The Banner Boy Scouts in the Air

The spectators in the stands sat hushed, waiting and watching. His team-mates hoped for the best, but they, too, remained silent. The pitcher hurled the ball. Nuthin’ watched it coming and thought it would be too wide; the next instant he realized his mistake; the ball curved and cut the edge of the plate. “Strike three and out!” called the umpire.

The score was 3-1, in favor of the Slavin team. And so it remained for awhile. The game now became quieter and more steady; no dramatics. Ted returned to the box and resumed his old form; he didn’t give out a single hit. Similarly with Ken who was the sort of person who, the more he was pushed to the wall and the greater the odds against him, the surer he was of himself. He held his opponents down to two bits and both men died on base.

The beginning of the seventh inning revealed that both teams still had plenty of fight in them and were out to make this a most exciting and dramatic game. The first batter of the Slavin team poised at the plate, swung at the first ball that came along and hit a fast, low-flying ball that shot past like a bullet about three feet above Ken’s head. William, at second, lifted himself off the ground and pulled the ball out of the air. It all happened so quickly and suddenly that the spectators were left with their mouths open, so bewildered were they. They revived soon enough, however, to cheer William for his perfect, most beautiful catch.

Ken struck out the second batter in short order but the next man sent the ball whistling across the ground toward third, base. Bobolink scooped it off the ground and hurled it across the diamond to Bluff. The latter, however, had to step back a couple of feet to catch the ball and the runner safely crossed first base.

With a man on base, the Slavin team thought they had Ken where they wanted him. Although his team had a safe lead of two points, Ted wanted to increase his score still more. The next man at bat succeeded in getting hit by the ball and the umpire sent him to first, thus pushing the other man over to second. Paul signalled his friend to forget the men on base and to pitch ball. Ken nodded. He sent over a fast one that burned the plate in half. The umpire called, “Strike one!” And his team-mates cheered him. The next one was a ball, followed by a slow one which the batter lifted far out into right field. The spectators were lifted out of their seats, their eyes glued to the ball. The fielder ran back a few yards and dug his shoes into the ground directly under the ball which flopped right into his glove. A shout went up from the stands and his team-mates threw their gloves into the air as they ran off the field.

Bluff was at bat. He was anxious to hit and he waited for his favorite ball—one that was low and cut the edge of the plate. But Ted knew his weakness and Bluff waited in vain; he was struck out. William, raging mad, came up to the plate. He vowed to hit a homer or die in the attempt. His mates cheered him and several voices in the stands urged him on. Ted put all he had into the ball and sent it whistling through the air; William set himself as though he were going to take, then shook his head sadly and let the ball cut the plate. Ted imagined he had the batter fooled and he again sent a fast one over. But it was just what William wanted and he smashed a swift grounder between the pitcher and the shortstop. Ted saw it was useless for him to go for it, so he watched the shortstop lunge for it, but in vain. The ball skimmed past several inches beyond his fingers. The man at second ran out to stop the ball, picked it off the ground and poised to throw it but no one covered second. He ran for the plate. William dived and grasped the base with his fingers. The umpire called loud and clear, “Safe!”

Bobolink was the next man up. Paul patted him on the back and said, “It’s up to you now, fellow. Don’t disappoint the crowd.”

Bobolink gritted his teeth and said nothing. Some spectators screamed madly, “Come on, Bob, kill it, sock it.”

Ted looked around and waited until all his men were in position. Ready to pitch, he seemed unconcerned with the man on second. He shot over a fast one, the catcher grabbed it and got into position to throw; he hesitated, waiting for William to make a move for third base; but he was disappointed and reluctantly returned the ball to Ted. Again the pitcher made a mistake, throwing a ball he thought the batter would let pass. Bobolink, however, gripped his bat and hit far out into left field. William had his foot on the bag and waited. The fielder ran in for the ball; confident that the catch was his, he waited for the fly to drop into his glove. It did. Suddenly a deep, cry went up from the stands. The man had muffed and the ball fell to the ground. He lunged for it and threw it to second. William was already on his way to try home plate. The man at second wheeled swiftly around and shot the ball home. William measured his size on the ground; he touched the base a fraction of a second before the catcher tagged him. And Bobolink was safe on second.

The score now stood 3-2, in favor of the Slavin team. Paul shouted joyfully, “Now is our chance; we’ll even the score yet.”

His enthusiasm, however, got the better of him, for his prophecy did not come true. Ted made short work of the next batter and the seventh inning was ended with the score still in favor of the Slavin team.

Nothing happened during the eighth inning. Beginning the ninth, Ted and his players determined to widen the margin. But all their efforts were futile because Ken held them to one hit, a single, and the man went no further than second. Their last chance to even the score or win the game, the young aviators were cheered and encouraged by many spectators. Ted and his players were dead set against a single run. The game was theirs, they felt, and they wouldn’t let it slip away from them.

The first batter up struck at the ball twice and fouled both times. Ted pitched again and the batter was struck out. Jack was up next and he hit a beautiful grounder to the shortstop. The umpire declared him out. Two out. The game now depended on the last man at bat. Some people in the stands rose and left. Paul stepped up to the plate. Ted poised, then sent the ball whistling through the air. Paul let it pass and the umpire called out, “Strike one!” Again Ted sent a scorching one across the plate and again the umpire called it a strike. Hit or miss, Paul had to do something. He held the bat lightly but gripped it as the ball came sailing through the air. He struck at it—and missed. The game was over. The score was 3-2 in favor of the Slavin team.

The losers gathered in a circle and cheered the victors. The winning team gathered around Ted and cheered the losers. The spectators cheered both teams. It was a dramatic and exciting game, well worth winning—and losing.

CHAPTER XII

What Happened to Wallace

Ted Slavin came over and shook hands with Paul. Smiling, he said, “Too bad we had to beat you, but someone had to win, Paul.”

“You deserve it; you played a fine game.”

“I can say the same for you. Ken pitched a marvelously good game. But what puzzles me is what happened to Wallace?”

Paul cast his eyes down. “That’s something that is puzzling us too, Ted.”

“What do you mean?” Ted looked concerned. “Did anything happen to him?”

“I hope not but we don’t know.”

“Gee, that’s too bad. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Paul shook his head. “I don’t think so. But if there is, I’ll call on you.”

“Be sure you do. If there is anything the boys and I can do, Paul, and you don’t let us know, I’ll be terribly angry.”

“Thanks. It’s mighty nice of you.”

“That’s perfectly okey. And don’t forget we have a swimming match scheduled for a week from today.”

“Sure, I know.”

The boys shook hands and parted. Paul walked over to the bench where his team-mates were. The boys surrounded him, looking for guidance. William posed the question that bothered them all. “What are we going to do about Wallace, Paul?”

“I really don’t know. There’s nothing we can do right now, I guess.”

Jack spoke up. “I suggest that we all go home, wash up and have supper. In the meanwhile we’ll relax and be able to think clearly. Let’s all try and imagine what may have happened to him. At seven o’clock we’ll all meet again and try to formulate some plan of action.”

“Yes, but what am I going to tell my mother if she asks me about Wallace?”

Everyone was silent, not knowing what to say. They were all pretty well downcast. Jack again spoke up, saying, “Tell her he’s staying for supper at my home.” A pause. Silence. Every mind with the same thought. He added. “It’s not the truth but you’re justified. I’m sure he’ll turn up very soon.”

The boys stirred in their tracks. There was nothing more to say and they all walked off the field.

But what had happened to Wallace? Let us go over the day’s events and find out.

Wallace completed his flying lesson at about nine-thirty. He mounted his bicycle and quickly left the airport, eager to return to town to be with the boys who depended upon him to pitch in the game. He peddled along steadily. Just as he was about to enter the outskirts of the town, he heard a hissing sound. Jumping off his wheel, he discovered that his rear tire was fast going flat. There was nothing to do but walk and push his bike along. Less than a quarter of a mile further on, he came to Jim’s filling station and he decided that he might as well patch his tire right then and there. He found Jim busy greasing a car. “Hello, there,” he called out, “how’re the young aviators getting along?”

“Fine, Jim. Do you mind if I use your shop to patch a hole in my tire?”

“Not at all. Help yourself.”

“Thanks, Jim.”

Wallace walked into the shop. He knew where to find the materials and tools he needed. Losing no time, he set himself to his job. It didn’t take him long. Then in about ten minutes, as he was coming out of the shop, he stopped dead in his tracks. He was just inside the doorway and he saw Jim gassing a Ford roadster. But it was the man at the wheel that caused him to freeze in his tracks. It was the stranger—the man who had tried to convince them to move camp up in the mountains. Wallace for the moment forgot all about the baseball game and thought only of how he could follow the man. He quickly stored the bicycle away in a corner where it wouldn’t be noticed, then he entered the office through the shop and emerged by the opposite door which placed him in a strategic position behind the wall. Wallace heard the grind of the gears as the driver started off. As the car passed him, he sprang forth and jumped onto the bumper in back of the car, holding tightly to the spare tire.

Wallace wondered where the driver was heading, when suddenly the car made a right turn and Wallace realized that this was the road to the mountain. For some seconds he was worried as well as mystified. If the driver was going up to the mountain, there was no telling when he would return and Wallace became afraid that he might miss the game. On the other hand, his curiosity was aroused, for he knew that the road ran for about five miles to the foot of the mountain and then it became a foot path. How then could he go all the way up in the car? The only alternative was to wait and see.

Wallace hung on for dear life. At approximately a quarter of a mile before the end of the road, there was a farm house. As far as he knew, no one lived there. Yet a driveway, which appeared to be in constant use, led off the road and was kept closed by a double-door gate. The car turned off the road into this driveway without stopping and the automobile pushed the doors apart. The doors of the gate were on swinging hinges, and swung back again into place as soon as the automobile passed. In the meanwhile the car proceeded to the back of the house. Wallace feared that he might be discovered, yet there was nothing he could think of doing, should he be noticed. To his relief, however, the car kept moving beyond the house, passed between two large elm trees and then came out on a one lane dirt road. Looking back, Wallace saw that the dirt road was entirely hidden by trees and could not be seen from the main road. He marveled at the deception and cleverness of the gang of arms smugglers—for by now he was convinced that they were arms smugglers—and wondered whether it was worth it for them to go such lengths of deception. But the fact that they did, showed that they must have considered it worth the trouble and expense.

In the meanwhile, the car rode along, the wheels sinking into holes and bouncing over rocks. More than one time Wallace was nearly thrown, but he managed to hold on. On either side of the dirt road were the woods. The road turned and twisted in many directions but always headed toward where he was sure the cave was situated. Judging by the speed and the time, the car had gone about ten miles beyond the main road. The driver stopped suddenly, leaving the car in the middle of the road. In the next instant the stranger was out of the car and at once entered the woods. His heart palpitating, Wallace hid behind the car and waited. He was anxious not to lose his man but he was still more anxious not to be caught. Who knows what they might do to him if they ever laid hands on him! Arms smugglers were obliged by necessity to be tough, hard men and would have no mercy on anyone who might give them away. Wallace shuddered as these thoughts flew through his mind. Yet he was undaunted and would not turn back.

When several minutes had elapsed, and he thought it was time, Wallace crept out from behind the car and darted into the woods, following the trail of the stranger. He had no difficulty following him. Several times he even caught a glimpse of the man’s form. Finally the trail led him to the edge of the woods—to the mysterious airport. Hesitating for several seconds and trying to think fast what to do next, he watched the man walk diagonally across the clearing, heading directly for the spot where he and Jack had overheard the stranger and the chief. Wallace decided that he had only one alternative: to make his way along the edge of the woods and get there in time enough not to lose his prey. Wallace sprinted, running lightly and noiselessly. At the same time he tried to keep the stranger in sight. It wasn’t easy because his vision was usually obstructed by the trees and low hanging branches. Also, he had to watch carefully where he was running. Suddenly the sound as of a pistol shot echoed through the stillness of the woods. Wallace dived and hid behind a clump of bushes. Finally he realized that it was only the sound of a twig which broke as he stepped on it.

Breathless, Wallace waited for the echo to subside and for the stillness of the woods again. At last when he thought it was safe to creep out of his hiding, he crawled over to the edge of the clearing. He looked, but the stranger had already disappeared. Terribly disappointed, Wallace lay there watching, waiting. Finally he decided to approach the spot where the stranger had most likely entered the woods. Trying to move along noiselessly, Wallace came to the very spot where he and Jack had lain hiding. He found the rifle just where they dropped it. Moving on a little further, he came upon a footprint that pointed directly at a clump of foliage. He examined it very carefully. Putting his arm out, he tried to move a small bush but found that it was attached to what seemed a board. His heart beat wildly and he became numb with excitement. Looking further he found several boards attached together into a sort of door, to which were attached many pieces of foliage that entirely hid it. Moving his fingers to its very edge, he could tell that the door swung away from the entrance of the cave against which it rested. He felt like jumping into the air and screaming, “Eureka, I’ve found it!”

Controlling himself, he hastily moved away and picked a position about five feet away from the entrance of the cave. From where he lay on his stomach, hidden by a clump of bushes, he could see anyone who might enter or leave the cave; he could also overhear anything that might be said, even if the speakers conversed in whispers. Taking further stock of himself, he concluded that there was no way of his getting back to town in time for the game. He had a fifteen mile walk which would take him about five hours. Besides, since he was already here and had come upon the cave, he wanted to wait around a while to see what might happen. Surely the stranger was inside, as he most certainly did not make the trip for nothing. Something was bound to happen. Wallace therefore made himself as comfortable as he could and waited.

After what seemed to be hours of dead quiet, he suddenly became conscious of an airplane overhead. He dropped to the ground again and hid behind the bushes. Looking up, he saw a small monoplane circling overhead. Some moments later it glided to a landing at the mysterious airport. A man climbed out of the cockpit and walked across the clearing toward the cave. Wallace now turned to watch the entrance of the cave. As he looked the foliage swung back and revealed an entrance about four feet high and three feet wide. The stranger, bent over, emerged from the cave, waiting for the pilot to appear. Coming into view, the stranger greeted, “Hello, Chief!”

“Hello, Bud!” The other returned.

The pilot was the same “Chief” that Wallace and Jack had seen before. He made a motion to enter the cave but Bud stopped him, saying. “Let’s stay out here, Chief. It’s awful hot there.”

The chief nodded, “Okey,” he answered. “I ain’t gonna stay but a couple of minutes.” And they squatted at the entrance.

“What’s the dope?”

“Not much. Just wanted to tell you to clear everything out of here and lay low for a while.”

“What’s the matter? The law catching up with us?”

“Naw, they’ll never get us. It’s at the other end. They still didn’t dispose of the last shipment. So there ain’t nothing for us to do for a while.”

“Hm. Well, it’ll be like a vacation.”

“Yeah. Make the most of it.”

For a short while there was silence. Finally Bud asked, “When do you figure we’ll make another shipment?”

“In about ten days or two weeks.”

“Guess I’ll run over to the city for about a week and kill some time enjoying myself.”

“Suit yourself,” answered the chief languidly.

Wallace trembled with excitement. He could barely control himself. The chief rose and muttered, “Guess I’ll be going now.”

Bud also rose and said, “Guess I’ll go too.”

“Got everything cleaned out of there?”

“Clean as a whistle.”

“Okey.”

Bud pushed the door, with its attached foliage against the mouth of the cave and walked off. Wallace became frantic. He had to get to the car before he left or else he would have to walk. He had to run by way of the woods while Bud crossed the clearing. Just as soon as he thought it was safe, he sprinted away. He hoped that Bud would stop to talk with the chief for a while, which would give him the necessary time to make it. He ran swiftly and noiselessly because if he made any sound and was detected, it would be too bad. Wallace came upon the car just about half a minute before Bud. He hid behind the tree and hitched onto the car. They returned via the same route. Just as they hit the main road, Wallace jumped off. He figured it was much safer if he hiked the five miles into town.

CHAPTER XIII

The Cave

William, wearing a long face, hesitated as he mounted the steps to the porch of his home. A thousand questions filled his mind which he was afraid his mother might ask, and he searched for possible answers. Slumping into a chair, he tried to think how to meet any situation that might arise. At the same time he was worried about his brother and wondered what might have happened to him. He didn’t hear his mother come out on the porch. Her voice startled him as she asked, “What are you sitting out here for, William?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Just like that, mother. Resting up.”

“Did you win the game?”

“No. No, mother, we lost.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She looked at him and saw how miserable he felt imagining that it was because of the lost game. She tried to cheer him up by saying, “Don’t feel so badly, son. It’s not so terrible to lose a game.”

“Yes, mother.”

“Where is Wallace?”

The question came suddenly and hit him like a bombshell. He expected it, yet he was caught off guard. Hesitating, trying to think of the exact words he was going to utter he finally said, “He went with Jack; said he’d stay there for supper.”

“Very well.” She smiled down at him. “You’d better go and wash up.”

He rose and entered the house. He took a shower and changed his clothes and fussed, trying very hard to delay his coming down to the dining room. When he heard his mother call him for the second time, he left his room and descended the stairs. Entering the dining room his eyes almost popped out of his head to see his twin brother and Jack at the table. His father noticed the look of consternation on his face and asked, “Anything wrong, son? You look pale.”

“No, Dad. I feel fine and dandy.” Trying to keep his voice level as possible, he asked, “I thought you were staying at Jack’s for supper?”

Wallace had a mouthful. “Changed our minds,” he mumbled.

William was overjoyed. Passing behind his brother’s chair, Wallace got poked in the head. It was a signal of affection rather than of anger. Sitting down at the table, William was all smiles and suddenly he remembered that he was terribly hungry.

When the boys met, Wallace was attacked with a million questions, but at first he wouldn’t answer a single one. When the time came, he told his story. A lot of discussion ensued. One thing was agreed upon by all, however. They had to go and investigate the cave while they had the chance. Tomorrow was Sunday. So they would leave in the afternoon, camp out for the night and return the following day. After deciding upon the plan, Nuthin’ raised another question. “Don’t you think it’s about time we informed the police or government agents?” he asked.

Paul answered quickly and precisely. “No. Absolutely no.”

“W-w-why not?” queried Bluff.

“For a thousand reasons,” replied Paul. “But one is sufficient. If we tell the police, they’ll most likely put some guards there and the secret will leak out, then that gang will get wise and beat it.”

That seemed to satisfy most of them but Nuthin’ was insistent. “But what can we do by ourselves?” he demanded.

“We’ll just have to wait and see.”

They met at the outskirts of the town, coming there in twos and threes; they didn’t want anyone to see them and ask them embarrassing questions. They carried with them only enough provisions to last them until the following day. Hiking briskly, with a minimum of rest stops, the group arrived at their destination at about five o’clock. Holding a conference, it was decided that only Wallace and Jack would enter the cave, while the other boys hid themselves at various distances, and kept a sharp lookout. Before the group parted, Paul warned the two, “Now don’t stay there too long. We’ll give you forty minutes. If you’re not out by then, we will come after you.”

The two nodded in agreement. Waiting for the others to take their places of hiding, they finally heard Paul’s whistle, the signal for them to proceed. Wallace and Jack crept forward. At the entrance, Wallace paused to point out to his friend the remarkable work of deception. Then, shaking with excitement, he pulled the door ajar and peeked in. It was dark inside and he saw nothing. Pulling the door a bit wider, the two boys crept in, and used their flashlights.

Paul and the other boys watched Jack and Wallace enter the cave and saw the door close behind them. Time dragged on their hands. They lay in hiding places and watched the sun move steadily in its westward course. In a couple of hours it would be dark and they had yet to set up camp. But the boys didn’t think of it. Their minds were in the cave and they wondered what Jack and Wallace were seeing and finding. Every minute seemed to them an age. They trembled with excitement. Paul saw William signal that he wanted to come over, which he did. “Wish they would come out all ready so we can go in and see what’s inside,” William whispered.

“Give them their allotted time,” Paul answered.

Side by side, they lay there and itched with impatience. Tired of watching the entrance to the cave, they let their eyes wander elsewhere. William took out his watch and counted off each minute. As the forty minutes were drawing to a close, they again glued their eyes to the entrance of the cave. William whispered, “They’re not out yet. You think they’re all right?”