Afloat

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The more they pushed on into what seemed the interminable recesses that
surrounded them the greater became their wonder as to how they were to
find those they sought. The chances seemed very much against them; but
then they had an abounding faith in Elmer's sagacity; and he seemed to
be determined on persevering. Doubtless, too, the others reasoned to
themselves, Elmer had some clever plan laid out which would be sprung
when the proper time arrived; and this confidence did much to relieve
their minds as they pressed steadily on.

Lil Artha was apparently bent on making Landy pay for his previous easy
time; he kept the other at work, though frequently the fat scout had to
hold his push-pole under his arm while he mopped his reeking brow.
Perhaps Landy panted very loud on purpose, with the object of causing
his obdurate boss to relent, and give him a chance to "spell" with Mark.

Heedless of sighs and half-heard groans alike, Lil Artha just sat there
and took his ease, while the slave worked and worked as though he were
chained to the galley's oar.

No one ever knew whether it were actually an accident or a deep-laid
scheme on the part of the weary Landy to end this period of torture.
There may be some things even worse than a mere ducking--at least a
stout boy like Landy Smith might think so.

At any rate, none of the scouts happened to be looking very closely at
the time, and consequently they could not say one way or the other.
All they knew was that without any warning Landy was seen to be dragged
out of the stern of the skiff, struggle to clasp his writhing legs
about the pushpole that stood at an oblique angle, caught firmly in the
tenacious mud, and then releasing his hold, flop with a great splash
into the dark-colored water of Sassafras Swamp!

CHAPTER X

THE SUSPICIOUS ACTIONS OF LANDY

To this very day, it has never been positively known among the scouts
of the Wolf Patrol whether Landy met with an unexpected accident, or
allowed himself to be deliberately dragged out of the boat, seized with
a sudden overwhelming desire to end his spell of drudgery.

The splash was simply terrific, and Landy vanished completely beneath
the surface of the swamp water, which chanced to be fairly deep at that
place, as of necessity Landy himself must have known.

"Oh! he's overboard!" exclaimed Toby, in the other boat, perhaps louder
than his orders from the scout master permitted.

"What a nuisance!" grunted Lil Artha, trying to appear unconcerned,
though it might have been noticed that he tried the best he could to
stop the movement of the skiff by thrusting both hands in the water,
and paddling.

Mark did better than that, for he snatched up a thwart that he knew was
loose, and started to use it vigorously so as to check the progress of
the floating boat.

Meanwhile, of course, Landy came to the surface like a bobbing cork
that had been pulled down by the bite of a fish. He was floundering
around like a whale, spouting volumes of water that he must have
swallowed in his dive, and apparently doing his level best to stay on
top.

"Hey! ain't you goin' to help a feller?" they managed to make out from
his almost incoherent splutter.

The other boat had by now pushed up close alongside, and Elmer, leaning
over the side, seized the swimmer by the coat collar. Landy at once
allowed himself to apparently collapse. He was content to have someone
support him; but some of his chums imagined there was a suspicious
_manufactured_ look in the expression of terror that had fixed itself
on his face.

With plenty to lend a helping hand the fat scout was soon pushed and
hauled on board the skiff from which he had fallen. The treacherous
pole was also recovered and given in charge of Lil Artha, for, of
course, it could not be expected that a fellow who had just been
rescued from a watery grave would be able to continue that arduous task
of pushing.

Lil Artha frequently looked queerly at the dripping Landy as he used
the pole. Sometimes he would chuckle softly to himself, and a swift
grin flash athwart his lean countenance as though a humorous thought
had struck him; after which the tall scout might be observed to shake
his head as if bothered.

Landy settled down to taking things easy. He wanted them all to know
that he had had a remarkably close call, and every little while he
would heave a great sigh, to follow it with such words as:

"I'm terrible glad you boys were on deck to save me. My clothes seemed
as heavy as lead, and I sure think I'd have gone down three times if
you hadn't chucked me aboard here. That was a narrow squeak for me. I
guess I went and got too confident, and it made me careless. But holy
smoke! how that mud can grip! I just couldn't get the old pole out
nohow, and that's a fact. I won't forget what you did for me, fellers,
sure I won't. I hope to be able to do the same for every lasting one
of you some day."

"You're too kind, Landy," laughed Toby; "none of us are hankering after
an experience like that. I'll never forget what you looked like,
dangling there on that push-pole, and trying to squirm your legs around
it so as to climb up. Want to know what you made me think of, Landy?"

"Go on and tell me," said the other, with a tremble in his voice, for
he was by this time beginning to feel the effect of his immersion.

"Why, you remember how we used to go frog-hunting in a boat, with a
three-foot line at the end of a stout pole, and a small hook baited
with a piece of red flannel? Well, when we'd see a whopping big
greenback we'd dangle that red stuff close to his nose. It was funny
to see him squat down like a cat does on sighting a sparrow or a robin,
and then jump up to grab the flannel."

Toby paused to chuckle afresh, and the object of his attack urged him
to continue, although he evidently realized that he was about to be
held up to boyish ridicule.

"First, the frog thinks he wants that queer red bug the worst kind,"
Toby went on to say, "but as soon as he feels the hook he changes his
mind. Then he starts in to do the greatest acrobatic feats you ever
saw, twisting his hind legs up over his head like he wanted to turn a
somersault, or else climb up the line. Well, when I saw you dangling
on that push-pole, I thought of a fat, greenback frog."

"Huh! guess you'd a tried to climb, too, if you'd been in my place,"
grunted the stout scout, drawing his coat a little closer around him,
and shivering.

"No, I'd have stuck by the boat, Landy," said Toby, soberly.

Landy shot him a suspicious glance but did not make a reply. Perhaps
he may have been wondering whether any of his mates already suspected
that his recent narrow escape had not been such an accident as it
appeared.

Elmer now took a hand in the discussion.

"Here, let's make less noise, fellows," he remarked. "In the
excitement we've already broken our rule, and if there was anyone near
by they must have known all about us. And we're going ashore just
beyond there."

"So soon in the afternoon, Elmer; what's up?" demanded Chatz, who,
having rested since last using the pole, did not understand why they
should call it a day's work at not much after three o'clock.

"If you look at Landy, you'll understand why," continued the patrol
leader.

"Why, he is shivering, sure enough!" exclaimed Chatz; "what ails you,
suh? Are you feeling cold on such a warm day as this?"

"What, me cold!" stuttered Landy, trying to put on a brave face, though
his lips were turning blue and quivering; "of course I ain't. It must
be the excitement of the little scare has gripped me, that's all."

But wise Elmer knew very well he was assuming a degree of comfort which
he did not feel, and he could not stand for it.

"You've got to do one of two things, Landy,", he said, with authority,
"either take the push-pole again, and warm your blood up, or else go
ashore to dry your clothes. Otherwise, we'll have you getting a chill,
and then the fat will be in the fire as far as our hunt goes. Which
shall it be?"

"If it's all the same to you, Elmer, and you mean the whole kit to stop
off too, I say let's go ashore," hastily replied Landy.

"Head for that little cove, Lil Artha, and you too, Toby," said Elmer.

"I'd like to lend him something I've got in my pack," remarked Lil
Artha, apparently taking pity on the shivering one; "only you c'n see
with one eye it wouldn't come within a mile of meeting around his
waist."

"I've got a sweater he could put on while his clothes are drying,"
volunteered Toby Jones; "of course, it isn't his size by a jugfull, but
then you know sweaters stretch. Like as not it'll go around me twice
though, after Landy's worn the same. But he's our chum, and scouts
should always be ready to make sacrifices for each other."

"That's real good of you, Toby," mumbled Landy, strangely enough unable
to meet the honest gaze of the generous donor.

The landing was soon made, and when the dripping Landy got ashore the
first thing Elmer made him do was to jump around, and thresh his arms
back and forth. This, of course, was to induce a circulation of blood,
so as to resist the chill following his late immersion.

"Lil Artha, I leave it to you to make the fire," said the patrol
leader. "Use dry wood so there'll be little or no smoke; and build it
in that low spot over to the right. If we choose to keep it going
to-night, there's only a small chance that anyone will discover the
light in that dip."

Nothing pleased Lil Artha better than to make a camp fire. Besides the
genial glow, which he so dearly loved, being a fire worshipper by
nature, it doubtless meant that before a great while they would be
cooking supper; and as we happen to be aware such a task was never
onerous to the lanky scout, whose appetite seldom failed him.

There were others to help pick up the right kind of wood, for every
scout has to learn such things early in his career in woodcraft. Soon
a crackling little blaze sprang up, which, being carefully fed,
presently amounted to a considerable fire.

"Here you are, Landy," said Elmer, when he could feel the genial heat
at a distance of five feet away; "strip off, and hang your duds on
these sticks we've planted around the fire. They'll soon begin to
steam, and then dry out."

Elmer even took a hand himself, wringing each article cast off by the
bulky Landy before he hung it judiciously before the fire.

Fortunately, the fat scout had made out to carry an extra pair of socks
and a suit of clean underwear in his pack, and having donned these,
with the help of Toby's expansive sweater, he had to make out. There
was considerable fun poked at him as he squatted there by the fire
attending to his clothes, so as to make sure they did not get scorched
by the heat.

"There's one thing bad about this drying-out process, though," Lil
Artha was heard saying to Ted, who chanced to be near by; "and that's
the way clothes shrink after they've been wet."

"Which reminds me," Toby called out, "of that story about the fat
bachelor who had washed a suit of his new underwear himself, and hung
it on the clothes-line to dry; but the maid came along afterwards and
finding them ready to take in hung up a suit belonging to the kid,
about four years of age. When the stout bach stepped out to get his
suit and saw that baby outfit hanging in its place, he rubbed his eyes
and was heard to say to himself: 'Great Scott! and the clerk swore they
wouldn't shrink a bit!'"

"But I hope _my_ clothes won't shrivel up so I can't get in the same,"
Landy observed, anxiously. "A nice figure I'd cut going around day and
night like this. And let me tell you the skeeters would fairly eat me
alive. As it is, I'm cracking at them all the time right now."

Frequent examinations, however reassured him. His clothes were drying
nicely, and did not seem to be losing any of their former generous
proportions. So in time Landy might hope to be garbed in his proper
attire as became a scout, and not an Arab or a "side show freak," such
as Toby persisted in dubbing him.

Supper was later on taken in hand. There was no lack of recruits when
it came to doing the cooking; in fact, Elmer found that he had six
enthusiastic would-be _chefs_ to choose from, even Landy expressing a
willingness to serve, as he had to hover near the blaze more or less
anyway, and might as well be busy.

Afterwards the fire was allowed to go down, though Elmer did not feel
that it was positively necessary for them to let it die out entirely.
If it was bound to betray them doubtless the mischief had already been
done; and having to shoulder the blame, they might as well have the
game.

It was a great delight to them all to squat there around the fire and
talk in low tones. There were no boisterous language or actions
tolerated. Elmer gave them to understand that they were now out on
serious business, and all such conduct must be left to another time.

Still, they found plenty to talk about, most of it connected with the
strange happening at Hickory Ridge, in which their unfortunate comrade,
Hen Condit, bore such a prominent part.

"I wonder now," Toby was saying at one time, "whether the Chief of
Police got a clue like we did that'd fetch him up in this region of the
country with a posse, meaning to try to round up this escaped rascal?"

There was a variety of opinions concerning this point, some believing
one way and the rest having contrary views.

"It would be too bad, now," said Ted, "if they managed to haul both of
them up before we could get Hen in hand, and hear hith thory of what
happened."

"That's a fact," added Lil Artha. "We know the Chief, and that he'd
take Hen back to town just like he was a real criminal. No matter what
excuse the boy'd try to give, the Chief wouldn't listen, leaving all
that for the Justice of the Peace before whom he'd take his prisoners.
Boys, we've just got to find Hen first; that's all there is to it."

That seemed to be the consensus of opinion among them. By degrees they
had come to believe that Hen Condit must be under a spell, to have
acted as he did. Nothing else would explain the mystery, for Hen had
always been reckoned a mild, inoffensive sort of fellow, one of the
last boys in Hickory Ridge to do anything so terrible as commit a
robbery.

"That's just what it is!" declared Toby, as they again talked it all
over in hopes of getting a better conception of the truth, "the man
who's got Hen must be one of those terrible hypnotists you read about.
I saw one down in the city last summer at a show, and he made fellows
do the most ridiculous things anybody ever heard tell of."

"Such as what?" asked Lil Artha, looking as though he might be
skeptical.

"Why, one boy thought he was a goat, and ran all around on his hands
and feet, hunting for tin cans and old shoes to eat. Another believed
he was a dog baying at the full moon, and I nearly took a fit listening
to him whoop. Then there was a third fellow who believed he was made
of iron, so he stretched himself from one chair to another, and three
men stood right in his middle; and he didn't break, either. Say, it
was the greatest sight you ever saw."

"Fakes, all rank fakes!" snorted Lil Artha; "every one of those boys
was a confederate of the impostor. You notice they never come to small
places where everybody knows everybody else, but show in cities, where
a new audience comes each night. I'd like to see a circus like that,
just to laugh; but you couldn't get me to believe in hypnotism worth a
cent."

"Well, then," demanded Toby, "what do you think this man's got on Hen
that he's made him do whatever he wanted, tell us that, if you can?"

"I don't know," replied Lil Artha, promptly.

"See?" cried Toby, exultantly, "he backs down right away."

"There are a lot of things I don't know," added the tall scout; "but
it's my opinion that Hen's being held to that man through some kind of
fear. P'raps he's been made to believe he did something _terrible_,
and his only hope is to skip out before the police get him. But let's
wait till we find him, and then we'll know it all."

"A sensible conclusion," remarked Elmer, who had listened to all the
talk with considerable interest; "and as the hour is getting late
suppose we begin to settle how we're going to sleep through our first
night in Sassafras Swamp."

CHAPTER XI

A NIGHT ALARM

Up to then none of them had apparently bothered about figuring how they
would make themselves comfortable, so that Elmer's suggestion was like
a bomb thrown into the camp.

"I should think we had better get busy if we want to have a place to
sleep on," Landy exclaimed, for the hard ground did not appeal very
much to the fat scout, accustomed as he was to a feather bed at home.

"We have no blankets, remember," said Elmer, "and that is one reason
why I laid out to keep the fire burning in a small way through the
night."

"But luckily," added Mark, who apparently had been looking around more
or less since they came ashore, "there are plenty of spruce and hemlock
and fir trees close by. We can make our beds like hunters always used
to do, away back in Daniel Boone's time."

"Every fellow will have to shift for himself, then," said Elmer; "so
let's start in and lay a foundation for a soft and fragrant bed."

"Hay was good enough for me last night, suh!" declared the Southern
boy; "but I've got a hunch I can sleep just as sound on balsam."

"Hemlock for mine every time!" announced Lil Artha.

Then there was a bustling time as the entire seven scouts started to
break off small branches and twigs from the adjacent trees, laying them
in piles until it looked as though they had secured enough for their
purpose.

The beds were arranged in something like a circle around the fire, and
acting on the advice of Elmer, who had been on the cattle range and
knew what was right, each sleeper expected to keep his feet toward the
fire.

"Looks a heap like a big cart-wheel," observed Lil Artha.

"The fire is the hub, and each scout a spoke, that's right, suh," Chatz
agreed.

Landy acted as though he would never get enough of the fragrant browse.
Long after the others had stopped gathering it, he continued. When
they joked him about being greedy when there was no price to pay, he
had an answer ready.

"I'm a whole lot heavier than anybody else, don't you know?" he told
them. "And on that account I ought to have a higher pile under me.
Besides, I always did like to gather things in."

"We'll remember that, Landy," threatened Lil Artha, "the next time we
need a big supply of firewood. You've fixed it up good and tight, and
you'll find us the most obliging lot of scouts east of the Rockies."

After considerable fussing and joshing, they managed finally to get
"fixed." As none of them had slept too soundly on the preceding night,
owing to their strange environment, and the wild alarm that sounded
when Johnny's chicken-thief trap was sprung, the boys were both weary
and drowsy.

Elmer was really the last to drop off, and he smiled as he raised his
head to glance around at the stretched-out figures of his six chums.
Some were breathing pretty loud, but Elmer could forgive that, and so
he also gave himself up to indulging in refreshing slumber.

He was awakened by a horrible crash that made him instantly sit up.
Other figures were bobbing up all around the smouldering camp fire.
From the condition of this latter, Elmer knew that he must have been
asleep much more than an hour.

"What happened?" gasped Landy the first thing, for he was digging his
fat knuckles into his heavy eyes as though trying to rout the last atom
of drowsiness from them.

"It was me," replied Lil Artha, promptly; "I fired my gun!"

"What at?" demanded Elmer, thrilled in spite of himself.

"A creeping man!" came the astounding answer.

"Wow! what's all that, Lil Artha?" Toby exclaimed; "you must have been
dreaming, and did it in your sleep. It's a good thing none of us
happened to be in range of your old Marlin scatter-gun, that's all."

"Rats! I tell you I was wide awake, and sitting up when I fired,"
insisted the tall scout.

Of course, by this time all were on their feet, for the excitement had
gripped hold of them. Elmer realized that Lil Artha was speaking
earnestly, and showing no symptoms of having played a practical joke.

"Now tell us all about it, Lil Artha," he commanded.

"Why, it was about thisaway," said the other, obediently. "I happened
to wake up and felt a bit thirsty, so I sat up thinking I'd crawl over
to our big jug of fresh water and take a swig. But just as I sat up I
saw something moving over in the bushes about twenty-five feet away.
Yes, sir, and the fire picked up just then so I could make out what
looked mighty like a man peeking at me through the same bushes--fact
is, I _know_ that's what it was, and nothing else."

"Well, what did you do then?" asked the patrol leader.

"I always keep my faithful Marlin handy when I sleep out in the woods,
you remember, Elmer," continued the other, with a touch of boyish pride
in his voice; "so all I had to do was to grab up the gun and blaze away
as quick as I could throw the same to my shoulder."

Elmer caught his arm in a fast grip.

"Not aiming at a man in the bushes only twenty-five feet away, Lil
Artha--don't tell me you were silly enough to do that?" he asked,
somewhat hoarsely.

The tall scout chuckled, and Elmer's fears were instantly dissipated.

"I'm not a fool, Elmer," he said, loftily. "I aimed away up in the
air, and shot to scare not to hurt!"

"Good enough, Lil Artha," the scout master went on to say in a relieved
tone; "I couldn't believe you'd be so reckless. A charge of bird shot
at that distance goes like a bullet, because it hasn't a chance to
scatter."

It was apparently Toby's turn to appear skeptical now.

"Huh! I s'pose he lit out then like a streak, after you'd wasted a
good charge of shot in the air, and knocked leaves from the branches of
trees--is that what you want us to believe, Lil Artha?"

"Didn't you hear the row he made rushing away?" demanded the other,
severely; "but then all of you started talking at once, and I guess you
didn't take much notice."

"I heard some sort of noise off that way," asserted Elmer, pointing.

"Correct, Elmer, for that's where he was kneeling, right over there in
those thick bushes. You see I mightn't have noticed him at all only he
happened to move just when a little flame shot up along that piece of
partly burned wood."

"Oh! I admit that you may have seen _something_," persisted Toby; "but
the chances are ten to one it was a white-faced heifer that had hit on
our camp, and was looking to see who and what we were. We happen to
know there's a stock farm not a great ways off, and I reckon their cows
get into the swamp once in so often."

"Think you've laid it down pretty pat, don't you?" sneered Lil Artha;
"but I'm going to show you where you're away off your base. Guess I've
got eyes, and know a human from a white-faced heifer. Watch my smoke,
that's all."

With that the indignant scout handed his gun to Chatz, and stepping
over to the fire picked up the half-burned brand which he had mentioned
before. This Lil Artha whirled briskly around his head several times
until he had it crackling and taking fire afresh, so that it promised
to make a very fair torch, if used for only a brief time.

Elmer made no objections to the programme. Indeed, he was deeply
interested in the outcome, whatever it might prove to be.

After having made sure of sufficient light, Lil Artha boldly strode
directly toward the spot he had indicated as the scene of the
near-tragedy.

"Go slow, Lil Artha," warned cautious Landy; "he might be laying for
you there. Keep him covered, Chatz, with the gun, won't you?"

"Oh! give us a rest, Landy; didn't I tell you he hoofed it like fun
after that shot gave him a scare? Who's afraid?"

With that Lil Artha reached the bushes indicated, and the others were
close on his heels, every fellow eager to find out whether what he had
told them was in fact true, or if the apparition had only been a
figment of Lil Artha's imagination, the tail-end, as it were, of a
stirring dream.

Bending down, the long-legged scout began to scan the ground. His
discoveries started almost immediately, as his excited words announced:

"Here's where he pushed back the brush, as you c'n see for yourselves.
Yes, and there's aplenty of footprints besides. Looky where he knelt
down, because here's the mark of his knees as plain as anything. Now
what do you say, Toby Jones? Is the laugh on me, after all?"

Toby had to confess that it did not look that way.

"Oh! I'm ready to own up you did see a man snooping around our camp,
Lil Artha," he confessed, frankly; "and when you let fly with that load
he lit out like all possessed. Elmer, of course the chances are it was
_that man_, don't you think?"

"We know of no other in this region," said the patrol leader. "He must
have discovered our fire, and was creeping up when our vigilant comrade
saw him, meaning to steal part of our food supply. We happen to know
they're short of grub, and now that the country is being roused against
them this man is beginning to be more or less afraid to venture out of
the swamp to secure another lot of fowls, or anything else along the
eating line."

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