Phil Bradley's Mountain Boys Part 10

When Ethan called this out the paddler waved at them, and laughed.

"Wait till I push her nose up on that fine sandy beach, and I'll tell you all about it, boys," he answered.

Two minutes later and the prow of the birch bark canoe glided softly up on the sh.o.r.e. Laying his paddle down in the boat X-Ray proceeded to pa.s.s along toward the bow, so that he could step out without getting his feet wet. Meanwhile Lub was looking the canoe over, noting that it seemed to be in very good condition, and not at all weather worn, as though it had been lying in the bushes for several winters and summers.

"I ran across her," the finder started in to explain, "while I was pushing along through the scrub, meaning to get to a certain point. I'd picked up some hoppers and crickets, and wanted to give the trout a try, to see if they were hungry. Whoever owned the boat had hid her away; and not so long ago, either, for there was a wet streak on her keel that no rain had made. She was lying bottom-up, of course."

"Have you been fishing in the canoe all this time?" asked Phil, sniffing the air, and then stepping forward to look for himself; upon which X-Ray bent over and lifted out a string of a dozen pretty fair-sized trout.

"How's that for a starter, eh, Ethan?" he demanded joyously. "Think you can beat that for a beginning? Right back of that point there's the boss bay; and say, you couldn't drop in a stone without hitting a trout, they're that thick. I stuck right in the same place all along; no need to move around."

"You got a fine mess, though I believe I could eat that many myself,"

ventured Lub, eyeing the string hungrily.

"Oh! we can get all we want," he was told; "it's only a question of finding the bait. They're just asking to be taken on. It's. .h.i.t and come with them as soon as you drop your line in. The bait hardly sinks a foot before it's taken. I never saw anything like it in all my life. And fight, say, they bent my rod double lots of times. I lost more'n I saved."

"But about the canoe," Phil went on to say, "the chances are it must belong to whoever was in our cabin before we came."

"That stands to reason, seems to me," Ethan agreed.

"Well, he had the use of your shack, goodness knows how long, Phil,"

said Lub, with an imitation of his father's solemn manner when delivering an opinion from the bench; "and it's only fair you have the use of his boat. t.i.t for tat, you know. One balances the other. Besides, we are not supposed to know whose boat it is."

"There's something else I wanted to tell you about," remarked X-Ray.

He was thrusting a hand inside his coat as he spoke; and when it came out again the others saw that it held something like a buff colored envelope, torn open.

"Now, I found this same when I was nosing around," he explained. "It was caught tight away under this seat in the bow, and must have been blown there by the wind."

"Looks like one of those telegraph envelopes," remarked Lub.

"Which is exactly what it is," said X-Ray Tyson, as he offered the object in question to Phil. "There's an enclosure inside; read it, and see what you can make of the same. It got me balled up a whole lot, I'm telling you."

Phil quickly had the enclosure out. It was a printed form, and had a message written upon it.

"John Newton: Winchester, N. Y. (hold until called for).

"Stay where you are. Search grows warmer daily. Too bad for both you can't compromise.

"RUTGERS."

Phil read it all out slowly, and Lub listened very seriously.

"First," Phil went on to say, "the man's name, or the one he goes by right now, is John Newton. It may be a.s.sumed, and I 'reckon the chances are all that way. He seems to be in hiding, just as we thought. This is a friend who's warning him not to think of leaving his nest yet awhile.

The question is, what terrible thing has he done, and who's hunting for him?"

"If you asked me," ventured Lub, composedly, "I'd say it was all as plain as print. This man must be a counterfeit money-maker. The Secret Service people are looking for him everywhere, because, like as not he's big game. And you can see how this Rutgers, who is of course a chap of the same kind, is telling him how hot the hunt is getting to be."

"It does look a little that way," admitted Phil; "there's only one thing that bothers me."

"Go on and explain what you mean," urged Ethan.

"The last part of the message doesn't seem to go with that sort of an explanation," said Phil.

"As how? Read it again, and let us see, Phil," Lub requested.

"'Too bad for both you can't compromise.' Now, the Government never allows itself to enter into any bargain where a rascal can get off. He may turn State's evidence against his pals, and in that way get lighter punishment; but there can be no such a thing as compromising a felony against the United States Government!"

"Phil, you're right about that, and I know it!" declared Lub, ponderously.

"I'll keep this telegram, if you've no objection," Phil continued; "and try to hit on some other sort of explanation later on. If we only had the key, this mystery would all be simple enough, I'm thinking."

"Well, what matters most to us is that we've got the canoe, and can find lots of uses for the same while we're up here at Lake Surprise,"

commented X-Ray.

It was decided a little later on, after the trout had been prepared, that as the fish looked so inviting, they might as well start right in by having a feast at noon.

"Well, anyway, it'll get us fixed for better things later on," sighed Lub, as he contemplated the three that would fall to his portion, and noted how small a mess that was going to be.

However, he did prove that he knew how to cook them splendidly. When handed around they were well browned, and as sweet as could be. Every one complimented Lub on his feat, and begged him to keep up the good work, which he readily agreed to do, never once appearing to realize that he was proving an "easy mark."

During the meal he was joked more or less about not having made a start with his screen on top of the chimney, and this must have spurred him on to showing his chums that he had conceived a clever scheme looking to that end.

First of all he managed to roll several logs against the lower part of the cabin. These upon being lifted in a pile formed a means for climbing up on to the roof. Without some such a.s.sistance Lub would have had no end of trouble in getting started on his self chosen job.

The others paid little or no attention to what he was doing, since they had various plans for pa.s.sing the afternoon away. In fact, while Phil meant to take a wider detour of the neighborhood, to look for signs of game he could photograph, X-Ray had badgered Ethan into agreeing to accompany him out on the lake, to see which would catch the greater number of fish before evening came on.

They were now industriously searching for grubs, crickets, gra.s.shoppers, or even angle worms, so as to tempt the fat trout to take hold.

It was while this was going on that a m.u.f.fled cry came to their ears.

"Listen! wasn't that some one calling for help?" demanded Ethan, scrambling to his feet, with a can that had held Boston baked beans in his hand, into which he had been introducing crickets, and such things, it having only small holes punched in its sides, besides the larger one which he kept stopped with a handful of gra.s.s.

"There it goes again," said X-Ray, turning all around, as though so bewildered that he could not place the direction from which the call came.

"Look at Phil, will you, how he's putting for the cabin!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Ethan.

"Do you think it can be a bear, or a panther, or anything like that; and is he meaning to shut himself in?" asked the other, his voice showing signs of trembling in spite of his well known bravery.

"Shucks! no, don't you see he's aiming to reach the back of the cabin, where Lub's heaped up that stuff? He's meaning to climb on the roof! It must be Lub's fallen part-way down the old chimney, and stuck there.

Hurry and let's get along to help pull him out!"

With that they started on a mad run. As the shack was close at hand they managed to arrive at almost the same time Phil clambered on the roof.

For such nimble fellows the task of mounting to the roof was not a difficult one. When they reached there they found that Phil was leaning over, and seemed to be giving directions.

"Is it Lub; and has he fallen down inside?" asked X-Ray, quickly, hardly knowing whether to burst out into a laugh, or look sorrowful.

"Yes, and it happens that he's stuck there in such a way he can't go down any further, and isn't able to climb up. You hold on to me, both of you, while I lean in and see if I can get hold of his hands."