CHAPTER XII DICK DISAPPEARS

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The others bent forward curiously and gazed at the floor. There, laying in a little mess of debris, as though it had slipped from the pocket of some one who had been sitting at the table, was the knife with Dick’s name on it, that he had bought of the sidewalk merchant in Bangor!

“Isn’t that conclusive proof that it’s someone from the camp?” demanded Dick as he rescued the knife.

“It surely is, and they are up to no good. Why should anyone from the cutting have a place over here? It’s a signal for us to get out and get out quick. There’s one good thing, though, we can set the hermit to watching over here and leave ourselves free to go about other business. We’ll pace out the distances and draw a rough map and leave it in the tree postoffice so that the old fellow can come over here and keep watch,” said Garry.

Being careful to leave no traces of having been in the cabin, they hastened outside. They had hardly gone two feet, though, when Dick darted back. He rejoined his companions almost instantly, and answered their puzzled stare with this explanation:

“I’ve just sacrificed my good knife. The thought came to me that one of them, the man who found it, might have remembered dropping it there, and would at once know that someone had been in the cabin if it was missing.”

“Good headwork, Dick,” said Garry approvingly.

They took it on the run back to where their canoe was beached, and soon were on their way back across the lake.

“I wish that we had more time without fear of interruption,” said Garry, “for it is likely that the occupants of the cabin have a canoe hidden somewhere along the bank of the lake. Safest thing now, however, is to get back to the other side of the lake, where we have an excuse for being.”

“I am afraid that there will be little use in watching that cabin, however, for it is quite probable that Barrows will warn those who are living there that we are swimming and fishing around the lake, and advise them to seek a new hiding place,” observed Phil.

“That’s a fact,” answered Garry. “Still, there’s no harm in trying. It was only by extreme carefulness in watching for signs that we discovered that trail. It was probably the one that the men use to get water, and the cabin is well hidden. One would not stumble on it casually in a long time.”

It was sundown by this time, and they held a council to decide whether they would camp there for the night or go back to the lumber camp. They were all anxious to visit the big lake, however, and so it was decided to return.

“After the camp is quiet we can skip out and visit our other objective,” said Garry.

Taking their fish out of the water, where they had been placed to keep fresh, they trekked towards home. It was about dark when they reached the camp, and about the first person they met was Barrows. He was all curiosity to know how they had spent the day, and they returned equivocal answers, being careful to make no mention of the canoe which they had carefully hidden before starting away from the lake.

The manager admired the fish, and thanked the boys for offering them to provide breakfast on the coming day. Pleading their strenuous walk and day as an excuse, they retired early to the shack.

Here a campaign was speedily decided on. Dick was to go back to the office and chat for a few moments, while the others slipped out of camp. This would make it appear that they were in the neighborhood, and after a reasonable time, Dick could return and retire for the night.

Dick wandered back to the office to engage the manager in a talk about fishing and the possibility of a long hike to extend over a week or more, while Garry and Phil made for the lake.

The tote road that had been made to transport the sawed lumber ran for a short distance along the lakeside. Here there was a slightly wider place made so that the tractors that met each other could pass with ease. The ground was here covered with broken branches and debris of all sorts, well tramped into the ground. Garry flashed his lamp about and searched for signs of any sort, but seemed to find none. Then he went to the lake edge and peered about.

Some peculiar formation of rock made a sort of a ledge that stood about three feet above the water. This ledge interested Garry immensely, but he said nothing as he wanted more time to puzzle out the situation before coming to any definite conclusions. At the point where the tote road had been widened, there was a triple string of broad wheeled flat cars loaded with lumber.

“Now I wonder why these cars were left here,” asked Phil.

“That’s easy. The drivers knock off work at a regular hour, and when that time comes, if they have not gone very far on their trip, they simply come back to the camp and wait until morning. That is to prevent accidents which running in the dark might bring about,” said Garry.

“Hush, what’s that?” asked Phil. Both boys listened intently. Far off across the lake they heard a faint chugging noise. Sometimes it seemed to cease altogether, then as the breeze stirred they could hear it, getting fainter and fainter.

“Phil, I’ve discovered the secret of the stolen timber or I’m a Chinaman. That noise solves the whole proposition. That sound that we heard is the engine of a powerful motor boat. And Barrows insisted that there was no kind of water transportation on either lake. Now why should he lie about it unless he had some ulterior motive in covering up the presence of a boat? This is the answer or I’ll return from our mission and tell Dad I’m not bright enough to solve the mystery.”

“What have you doped out,” asked Phil, as Garry paused for a moment.

“Just this. I’ll bet you a dollar to a doughnut that the drivers that are in on this timber stealing business have it so arranged that there is always a load of cars waiting here overnight. That’s step number one. Now we have a rock formation here that makes a perfectly good wharf. Next you have noticed that all the chips and bits of broken branches strewn between the turnout here and that strip of rock. That’s just to hide the footprints that are made by the thieves. So far so good. How does this strike you? That motor boat that we heard is a big one, at least it had immense pulling strength. I know enough about engines to tell from the sound how good they are. That boat is probably used to draw a raft across the lake. Just after midnight, or some safe time during the dark hours, a raft can be backed against that natural wharf there, and in half an hour enough lumber can be carried from the flat cars to the raft to make it a profitable night’s work. Why, the whole thing is as plain as a pikestaff. Phil, we’ve got everything nearly dead to rights now!”

“What’s the next step then, old timer? Shall we hike out and write, or wire your father to come on so we can show him what’s going on?” questioned Phil.

“Not yet a bit, there’s still something else we must find out. Is this a part of the treachery to ruin Dad’s enterprise here, or is it a private bit of work on the part of Barrows?”

“How’s this for a guess? The people that are behind Barrows, meaning those that have bribed him to play false to the trust your father put in him, may have outlined this whole scheme, and offered to give Barrows as his pay what he can make off the stolen timber. At the rate that it has been disappearing, one-fifth and one-quarter at a time, as the report that Howells received would show, and at the price which lumber is bringing today, that would be pretty good pay for one summer. Chances are that the interests that are opposing Mr. Boone are paying all the expenses. Their only idea is to put him out of business for breaking up their combination and going into business on his own hook. If that’s the kind of men they are, I don’t blame your father for getting out of the combination.”

“I think you have the right idea, Phil. My, I wish we had our canoe over here. We could paddle across the lake and investigate the other side and see what is done with the timber once it is rafted over the water,” said Garry.

“No use in wishing. Best thing we can do is hike for home and turn in. Then tomorrow we can make arrangements to go on, say a three day hike. We can portage the canoe across country, and hide out along the bank until nightfall. The moon is in its last quarter now, and by night after tomorrow it will be dark. We can paddle out well into the lake and wait for what transpires. When we hear the raft and motor boat coming we can paddle far enough to be unobserved and then follow it by sound. The boat will probably travel without lights for two reasons. First, it is safe enough as there is probably no other craft on the lake, and secondly, they will not want to attract any undue attention. Then we can note the spot where the raft docks, and in the morning can follow it to whatever rail spur the stuff is taken. With what help Howells may be able to give us on the outside, we ought to have the thing pretty well in hand. What do you think of my suggestion?” asked Phil almost breathlessly, as he concluded.

“Phew, that’s the longest speech I ever heard you make, Phil, but you sure said something every minute. That’s what we’ll do. Now let’s get back.”

The whole occurrence had taken less than an hour and a half, and when they reached the camp they noted that a light was still burning in the manager’s office. On arriving at their shack they were somewhat surprised to find that Dick was not there.

“He’s doing a good job,” laughed Garry. “Either he is really interested in what Barrows has to say, or he is playing to give us time to do what we wanted to. Well, he can stay there all night if he wants to, I’m going to roll into my blanket and dream sweet dreams. Dick’s a night hawk anyway most of the time. Goodnight.” And Garry yawned and soon was fast asleep. Later development will show that it would have been wise on the part of the boys to look in on the manager at that time. Had they done so, their work would have been greatly simplified. However, they were not mind readers and so days of trouble were in store for them.

Morning came, and when Garry, always the first one to awake, tumbled out of bed, he cast one look at Dick’s bunk, and then rushing over to the other side of the shack, vigorously shook Phil.

“What’s the matter?” demanded Phil in a startled voice, sitting upright in his bunk. “Anything the trouble?”

“That’s what I cannot tell you right this minute, Phil, but Dick hasn’t been here all night!”

Phil leaped out of his bunk and looked at the spot where their companion usually slept. The blankets were still neatly in place, and it needed only a glance to see that no one had used it that night.

The boys hurried into their clothes and rushed to the office building where Barrows and the camp officers slept. No one was stirring, and Garry was about to pound on the door when he saw the cookee coming from the cookhouse with a pail in each hand for the morning cooking water.

Garry called to him and asked if he had seen Dick that morning.

“Naw,” was the grouchy answer. “Why should I have seen him? I don’t know anything about him.”

The sound of the voices awakened Barrows and he came and stuck his head out of the window.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Why, Dick hasn’t been around all night, and we were looking for him. Have you seen him since last night?” asked Garry.

“I haven’t seen him since the three of you went to your shack last night!”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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