The Boy Scouts at the Canadian Border

The eyes of the boys had become so used to the semi-darkness that they were able to fairly make out the window, once the shutter had been drawn back. They could also see some sort of movement there. Having given the swinging sash a push that sent it inward, the man was now thrusting his head and shoulders through the small opening.

Rob knew the difficulties attending such an awkward entrance. He felt almost certain that the party, even if not clumsy in his movements, would likely tumble to the puncheon floor when he finally gave the last push. That was the very moment Rob figured on springing his surprise. The man would be caught unawares, and least able to defend himself or spring at them.

When he heard a scuffling sound, and saw the window no longer obstructed by a dark form, Rob knew the crisis was upon them.

CHAPTER X

NEATLY DONE

As the scout master suddenly pressed the button of his little hand torch and threw the expanding ray of light straight ahead, he called out in a loud voice:

“Go to it, Tubby, Andy!”

There was a loud crash. Tubby had obediently thrown the wooden fire screen over to the floor, and was trying to snatch up some of the fine tinder that would burst into a brilliant flame almost as soon as it reached the still hot embers on the hearth.

Andy, too, was equal to the emergency, and had his gun leveled directly at the figure of the sprawling man. There was a grim suggestiveness about the way in which all these things worked that must have staggered any one thus taken completely by surprise.

“Lie just where you are, unless you want to get hurt!” cried Rob, in an authoritative voice. “If you make any attempt to get up, or show fight, you’ll have to take the consequences, and they’ll not be pleasant, either. Understand that, Zeb Crooks?”

“Oh, that’s who it is, eh?” burst from Andy. Tubby too must have seen a sudden light, though he was really a busy boy and did not bother to express his astonishment; for no sooner had he seen those fine bits of dry resinous wood begin to flash up than, remembering his instructions, he waddled across the floor, much after the fashion of a fat duck, and, securing Rob’s gun, hastened to join the group near by.

Already the resuscitated fire had begun to illuminate the interior of the bunk-house. The glow disclosed a most singular scene, and one the boys would often remember with a smile.

The big man on the floor was staring at the trio of lads with a strange mixture of emotions depicted on his swarthy and bearded face. Evidently he was sorely puzzled to account for their presence there, when he had firmly believed the building to be wholly without occupants. He may have struck a match and read the “Notice” which the boys had not removed from the outside of the door.

“Who might the lot of you be?” he asked, still squatted there as he had fallen after forcing his entrance, with his rifle alongside, though he dared make no move toward regaining possession of the weapon with those two guns wavering back and forth so close to his face.

Rob bent over and quietly secured possession of the repeating rifle. The action showed him to be a diplomat of the first water, for in so doing he cut the claws of the wild beast they had trapped.

“We’ll talk with you after we’ve made sure you’re not going to give us any trouble, Zeb. Tubby, step over and fetch the piece of rope that’s hanging from the peg yonder.”

Tubby obeyed with alacrity – for him. Rob, taking the gun from his hands, gave another order.

“My friend, please accommodate us by rolling over on your face, and holding both your hands behind you. We mean to tie them there, wrist to wrist. It’ll do no good for you to grumble, because it’s just got to be done.”

The intruder was a strong and bronzed fellow, who might easily have held two of the scouts out from him could he have gotten his hands on them; but then a boy in possession of a gun is as much to be respected as though he measured up to the full stature of manhood, and evidently the fellow appreciated this fact.

Still he did look disgusted as he proceeded with rather ill grace to do as Rob had ordered. It was almost comical to see his huge figure sprawled out there on the floor, with fat Tubby seated on his legs, and endeavoring to do a neat job with the rope-end. Rob was watching to make sure that there was no bungling; he did not believe in poor workmanship.

“Cross his hands so, Tubby, with the wrists together,” he directed. “Now begin to wrap the rope around – draw it fairly tight. We don’t want him getting loose on us, you understand. When Uncle George comes back from the Tucker Pond he’ll know what he wants to do with a thief!”

There was a loud growl from the man whose face rested sideways against the floor.

“Hold on, thar, kid,” he said savagely, “you don’t want to be so free applying such langwidge as that, ’ca’se it cuts to the bone. I may have been a fool to turn on Mr. Hopkins, and act stubborn-like, but I’m no thief! Mebbe onct in a while in times gone by I’ve shot deer out o’ season, and busted the game laws, but I never in my life did take anything as belonged to anybody else, never, so help me.”

Rob did not say anything until Tubby had finally completed his job, puffing over it as though the effort required every atom of breath he could command.

“Now, Tubby, help me get him over here, where he can rest against the wall,” Rob said. “I know it’s going to be mighty uncomfortable for him, fastened up this way, but nobody’s to blame but himself.”

“Huh, guess that’s correct, younker!” grunted the man. “I sartin sure did make a fool o’ myself, and I oughtn’t to grumble if I have to pay up for it. But I’m plumb up against it now, seems like.”

“Then you are Zeb Crooks?” asked Rob.

“Yep, that’s who I am,” came the unhesitating reply.

“Mr. Hopkins, who is the uncle of this boy here, discharged you only a day or two ago, didn’t he?” continued the scout master, watching the play of emotions on the swarthy face of the Maine guide and trying to read what lay back of them.

“Waal, we had a little misunderstanding, you might say, and I was sorter set in my way. Mr. Hopkins, he seen there wouldn’t be no sense o’ us tryin’ to pull together, so he up and paid me a hull month’s wages and told me my room was a heap sight more agreeable to him than my company. I was that mad I jest up and cleared out o’ the camp, and started across kentry toward my home, which is away back nigh Moosehead Lake.”

“But it seems you changed your mind some, and turned back,” remarked Rob drily.

“Jest what I did, younker,” admitted Zeb contritely.

“You had a reason in doing that, of course?” continued the boy.

“Well, I guess so!” chuckled Andy scornfully, as though he considered that a superfluous question when they had caught the discharged guide creeping into the bunk-house and evidently meaning to purloin the best of the stores left there by the hunting party.

“Keep still, Andy,” Rob hastily snapped, for he knew the other did not look as deeply into things as he ought, but often judged them in a superficial way.

Zeb glared at Andy as though he could give a pretty good guess what the other had in mind. The guide did not feel as kindly toward Rob’s thin companion as might be the case with regard to the scout leader himself.

“My reason was jest this,” he said firmly: “the more I got to thinkin’ about how good Mr. Hopkins had been to me and my fambly for the ten years he’s been hiring me as his head guide up here, an’ over in Canada, why, the more I felt ashamed o’ what I’d said an’ done. The stubborn feelin’ died away, an’ I was plumb sorry. I jest stopped short on the way to Wallace, an’ camped, so I could think it over some. An’ there I stayed two days, a-wrestlin’ with the nasty streak that had got aholt o’ me. Then I guess I come to my senses, for I made up my mind I’d tramp back here and eat humble pie. Once I’d got to that point, nothin’ couldn’t hold me in, an’ so I kim along. When I struck a match an’ read that ’ere notice on the door, I figgered that Mr. Hopkins ought to be back in a day or so, an’ that I made up my mind I’d wait here for him. Then I couldn’t understand why the door was fast, but I remembered thar was a loose shutter, an’ – well, I kim in.”

Rob wondered whether the guide were telling the truth. He more than half believed that it was a straight story, for the man looked penitent enough, and was surely humiliating himself to thus acknowledge his faults before boys who were strangers to him.

“Huh! Do you believe that yarn, Rob?” asked Andy, who it may as well be admitted was rather skeptical by nature, and apt to think the worst of any one whom he suspected not to be on the level.

“I don’t know what to think,” said Rob hastily. “It may be just as Zeb tells us, but he will admit himself that his actions looked mighty suspicious, and also agree that we are perfectly justified in keeping him tied up until Tubby’s uncle comes. Safety first is often a good motto for scouts to follow.”

“Oh, that’s all right, boys!” sang out the big guide, as cheerfully as a man who faced a long and tiresome period of captivity might be expected to appear. “’Course you couldn’t expect to take my simple word for it. None o’ you knows me. Mr. Hopkins, he’s slept alongside o’ me for ten years. I ain’t afraid o’ what he’ll say when he comes back from Tucker Pond. Do jest as you think best. I’m goin’ to take my medicine – and grin. I deserve the worst that could happen to me, arter treatin’ my best friend like I done.”

Rob liked the way in which he said this; it drew him closer to the man than anything else could have done. When any one has been foolish, and committed an indiscretion, repentance and frank admission of the wrong are after all the best signs of a return to reason.

“We’ll make you as comfortable as we can for the night, Zeb,” he told the guide. “In the morning we’ll see what we can do about it.”

“Jest as you say, sir; I guess I kin stand it. So you youngsters are Boy Scouts, be you? I got a nephew down at Waterville as belongs to the organization. When I was thar I thought his troop a right smart bunch o’ kids. The stunts I showed ’em about things connected with the woods pleased the boys a heap. If I had a son, he’d have to jine the scouts, or I’d know the reason why, ’cause I believes in the things they stand for, every time, but my kids is all three gals.”

“Well, he knows how to soft-soap, all right,” muttered Andy, still suspicious.

Rob had a pretty firm conviction that Zeb Crooks belied his name, and that he was as straight as a die. Still, it would hardly do to be too hasty in freeing him; they had better wait until morning at least, when all of them had cooled down and the matter might be properly debated and settled, majority ruling as it generally did in such matters. Rob felt pretty certain that he would have the backing of gentle-hearted Tubby, in case he wished to remove Zeb’s bonds.

Rob said nothing further, though he undoubtedly did a heap of thinking. With the assistance of his comrades he managed to get Zeb into one of the lower bunks. The man said he was fairly comfortable, and would doubtless manage to get some sleep, though his position was awkward, and of course his hands would feel “dead” from lack of circulation.

“I sure hopes you’ll decide in the mornin’ to believe me, boys, and undo these here cords,” he remarked, with unction, as they turned to leave him.

“Perhaps we may; wait and see,” Rob told him.

Andy shook his head and looked unhappy. Plainly he could not get it off his mind that the guide was what his name signified; and even though he had served Uncle George for ten years, doubtless he had been deceiving the good man all the time, only he had not been found out until now. Andy meant to “keep one eye open” during the remainder of the night, as he privately informed Tubby, thereupon causing that worthy further uneasiness.

They had thought to throw more fuel on the fire before climbing back into their bunks, so that the room would be lighted more or less during the rest of the night. If Andy chose to remain on guard, he was welcome to do so for all the others cared.

Tubby himself could not immediately get to sleep, for a wonder. Truth to tell, he was busy trying to figure out whether Zeb Crooks was a clever rascal or a blunt, honest backwoods guide, whose main faults possibly might lie in the possession of an easily aroused temper and a stubborn will.

Once or twice Tubby lifted himself on one elbow and stared hard toward the bunk where they had stowed the prisoner. He wondered if Andy could know better than Rob, and whether the big rough man right then might be working his hands free. Suppose Zeb should get loose, would he be tempted to turn the tables on them? Tubby tried to imagine how it would feel to have his wrists triced up like the legs of a fowl bound for the market. He did not believe he would fancy the sensation over well; and perhaps he should feel grateful to Andy because that worthy had promised to keep watch.

Then Tubby leaned forward and listened more carefully. Some one was sleeping soundly, that was sure, and the heavy breathing certainly came from the next bunk, where that alert guardian of their safety, Andy, had taken up his lodging. Tubby gave a scornful snort.

“Huh, a nice sentry he’d make, if our lives depended on his keeping awake! Guess I might as well drop off myself. If Zeb gets free while we sleep, and skips out, why, it’s just as well.”

After that all was still in the bunk-house. Even the man whose hands were so painfully fastened together must have made the best of a bad bargain and managed to get a certain amount of sleep; from which fact it would appear that Zeb’s mind was perfectly at ease, now that he had decided to do the right thing.

The night passed away, and dawn came at length. It was about this time that all of them were awakened by certain noises without. At first they fancied that the hunting party must have returned and were beating at the door demanding admittance.

Then suddenly Tubby was observed “making a bee-line” for the door as fast as he could go. As Rob and Andy tumbled from their bunks they saw him fumbling with the bar, which he dropped before either of the others could call out. With that Tubby flung the door open, and in frisked an active object that seemed to want to fairly devour the stout chum. Tubby was crying:

“It’s Wolf come back to us again, don’t you see? Good boy, you didn’t mean to desert your new friends, did you? Hey! Keep down there, and don’t eat me alive, please.”

CHAPTER XI

ZEB MAKES GOOD

Since they had been aroused, and the dawn was at hand, there was no use of going back to their blankets again. So the boys finished their simple dressing, and washed up outside the door. Tubby declared the air was as cold as the Arctic regions and it must surely be some degrees below freezing, two assertions that hardly bore out each other.

Zeb Crooks was gotten out of his bunk. Rob had made up his mind to release the other. He now believed the story the repentant guide had so frankly told them, and thought it would be too humiliating for Zeb to be found tied up by a trio of boys, when his employer returned.

But Rob took his time about carrying this out, though he had already obtained the backing of Tubby in the scheme. While the latter was preparing breakfast, and Andy had stepped out, gun in hand, for a little walk around, in hopes of seeing something in the line of game on which he could prove his skill as a marksman, the scout leader walked over to where the big guide sat with his back against the wall.

“You still say, do you, Zeb,” he commenced, “that you meant to stay in the cabin here until Mr. Hopkins came back, and then ask him to overlook your foolishness?”

“I sartin did, youngster,” affirmed the other vehemently, and then adding, “Thar was times when I got plumb skeered, because I hated to think of meetin’ that look in my boss’s eyes. I even considered whether I had ought to stay and take his money agin, arter I’d been so mean. I tried to write a leetle note I was calculatin’ to leave here, in case my nerve give out and I slipped away agin.”

“A note do you say?” demanded Rob quickly. “Did you keep it, Zeb?”

“Shore I did, sir. It’s right here in my pocket, tho’ mebbe arter all I’d a-stayed the thing out, and then I needn’t use it. But I didn’t know, I wasn’t right sartin I could stand for it.”

Rob leaned over, and after fumbling around for a short time managed to find the well-thumbed paper. Evidently Zeb’s education lay mostly in an extensive knowledge of woodcraft and the habits of wild animals, for he could not have spent much time learning to spell, or in applying the ordinary rules of grammar. Rob might have smiled at the primitive product of the big guide’s untrained hand only for the fact that somehow his eyes were strangely blinded while he read.

“Mister hopkins, der sur, I ben the bigest fule livin’ i gess to ack like i done with the best frend i ever had, and sur i wanted to tell you this but i dident hay the nerve to stay. i em agoin hum an wen i look in the cleer eyes of my gal Ruth as was named after yur own ded wife i feel like kickin myself, but i shore do hope yo kin forgiv Zeb Crooks and mebbe next year hire me agin. I had my leson, sur, thats rite, an never agin siz i. An i hopes yo git that big bull moose this time thats awl.

Zeb Crooks.”

Rob folded that soiled sheet of paper, torn from a memorandum book. He meant to keep it, and on the sly show it to Mr. Hopkins, who could appreciate the manly nature that had thus conquered in the battle with an evil spirit. Andy would not appreciate such a message, for he must suspect that it was only intended to blind the eyes of a trusting person and conceal the man’s real intentions. Yes, Tubby might see it, some time or other. Rob intended to keep it always.

“Well, Zeb,” he went on to say cheerfully, to hide the emotion he felt, “we’ve concluded to set you free. You can stay around until they get back from the Tucker Pond, when there’ll be a chance to fix matters up with Mr. Hopkins.”

“I’m shore plumb pleased to hear that, younker,” declared the guide, grinning. “It ain’t none too pleasant to be tied up, and some humiliatin’, seein’ as how you are only boys. The sorest thing o’ all would have been to let him see me this way.”

“That’s going to be all right, Zeb,” said Rob, much impressed with the justice of this remark. “I’ll see to it that none of us tell him we made you a prisoner. We believe what you’ve been telling us. In fact, I thought you were straight from the beginning, but that note clinched it for me.”

He soon had the rope unfastened. Tubby, looking over from the fire, nodded his head in appreciation. Andy, coming in shortly afterward, failed to make any disagreeable remark, from which it might be judged that he had begun to think better of his former opinion with regard to Zeb’s honesty.

The guide acted as though nothing out of the way had happened. He assisted Tubby in getting breakfast, just as he was in the habit of doing for his employer. Indeed, Zeb seemed to improve upon acquaintance, and Rob felt certain he had not made a mistake in tempering justice with mercy.

They had a merry time of it at breakfast. The boys were light-hearted by nature, and Zeb seemed to be growing to like them very much. He asked many questions in connection with their past experiences. They had any quantity of incidents to relate, some of which caused the Maine guide to open his eyes wide; for the accounts Tubby and Rob gave of what wonderful things they had seen when with the fighting armies in Belgium and France were enough to thrill any one to the core.

Later on that morning Andy started forth again, bent on picking up some game. He was advised by Rob to be careful and not get lost, an injunction which he promised to heed.

Rob had been more or less anxious during the night. He could not get it out of his mind that the man who piloted that aeroplane had been spying out the land on the other side of the border for some dark purpose. Rob had half fancied he heard a distant heavy sound that might be caused by an explosion, though on second thought he decided that he was wrong.

Two nights had passed without anything of this sort happening. He wished Mr. Hopkins would get back to the camp so he could consult with so experienced a man as Tubby’s uncle must be, and decide what their duty should be.

Andy did not come back until after the others had started to eat lunch. When they saw the number of plump partridges he carried they congratulated him on his good luck. Rob had anticipated something of this sort, having heard a number of shots in rapid succession, so suspecting that the hunter had struck game.

“But, shucks!” Andy went on to say in a disgusted tone, “I’m almost ashamed to tell you how easy they came to me. Why, after I’d flushed the covey they went and alighted in a tree with wide-spreading branches. There half a dozen of the silly birds perched on a lower limb, and I picked off one as nice as you please. Still, to my surprise, the rest didn’t fly away, but just sat there, craning their necks to look down and see what their companion was doing all that kicking and fluttering on the ground for. Guess the gumps thought it was a new sort of partridge cake-walk. Anyway I nailed the second one, then a third and a fourth, and, why, would you believe me, I actually got the fifth when the last bird flew away. It was too easy a job; like taking candy from the baby. Don’t call me a hunter, I feel more like a butcher right now.”

“But, Andy, they’re nice and fat,” cooed Tubby, running his hand admiringly down the speckled breast of one bird. “I’m figuring on rigging up a dandy spit so we can cook it in front of the fire. I’ve tasted chickens cooked that way at a restaurant in the city, and my! but they were delicious.”

“They did use a spit ages and ages ago,” laughed Rob, “which goes to show that after all our forefathers knew a good thing or two that hasn’t been improved upon in all these centuries. Here’s hoping you have the best of luck, Tubby. If you need any help, call on me.”

Tubby did put in most of the afternoon on that job. Zeb took it upon himself to attend to the fowls, which he dressed most carefully. Tubby was more than glad that the little company had received an addition, for if there was one thing he disliked doing it was cleaning birds or fish.

Along in the late afternoon he had the right kind of a fire for his purpose. With all the birds fastened on his home-made spits, which could be revolved with a clock-like motion, Tubby set to work to prove himself a master chef. Indeed, as the work went on, and the revolving birds began to take on a brown hue the odors that permeated every part of the long bunk-house were enough to set any ordinary hungry boy half crazy. Andy was seen to hurriedly take his departure, after finding out from Tubby that supper would not be ready for at least half an hour; it looked as though he for one could not stand it to “be so near, and yet so far.”

When Tubby grew tired or overheated he would give the willing Zeb a chance to make himself “useful as well as ornamental,” as Tubby jokingly remarked. He and the big Maine guide were the best of friends. It looked as though Zeb would have a pretty good advocate with the uncle in case any were needed to straighten out his affairs with Mr. Hopkins.

Finally the summons was beaten on a skillet, always welcome to those who have been hanging around, and suffering cruel tortures because the minutes seem to drag with leaden feet. Every one pronounced Tubby’s enterprise a most wonderful success. Partridges may have tasted fine before, when cooked in one of those hunters’ earthen bake-ovens that resemble a fireless cooker so much; but in that case they would have simply been as though steamed, and lacked all that brown crispness.

Still no sign of the party from the Tucker Pond. They must surely come back by another day, Rob thought, with a feeling akin to uneasiness; for once more he dreaded what a night might bring forth, his thoughts being again carried across the line into the country whose sons were in the trenches over in Belgium and the North of France.

So Rob felt that his mind would be much relieved if only another day saw Mr. Hopkins, in order that he might shift the burden to older shoulders. Somehow it seemed to the anxious scout master as though some sort of responsibility had been placed upon them because they chanced to see that airman making his reconnoissance two days before.