The Call of the Beaver Patrol Part 36

"That's a kid all right!" Will decided, watching the figure closely through a field gla.s.s. "And he's wearing a Boy Scout uniform, too!"

"I have an idea," George declared, with a sly wink at his chum, "that if we should ascend to the Mountains of the Moon and drop into a gorge a thousand feet deep, we'd find a Boy Scout in a khaki uniform at the bottom."

"I'm not kicking at the discovery of a Boy Scout," laughed Will. "The more Boy Scouts we come across in this desolate land the happier we shall be."

"I'm not kicking, either," replied George. "I was only commenting on the queer fact that we find Boy Scouts in every region we chance to visit."

"You'll find the little fellows scattered all over the world!" declared Will. "And they're always doing something wherever they are."

Will now handed the field gla.s.s to George and he, in turn, made a short study of the figure pa.s.sing back and forth between the two fires, piling wood now on one and now on another.

"It's dollars to doughnuts," Will observed, "that the boy by the fires came in with the one who lies in the cabin with a busted head."

"I've been considering that proposition," George said.

"Then, perhaps, we may be able to solve a portion of the mystery as soon as we get into conversation with the lad," Will continued.

"I wonder why he didn't come to the cabin during the night?" asked George. "He surely must have seen the lights shining from the windows."

Will turned and looked back over the route they had followed.

"We can't see the cabin from here," he said.

"That's a fact," George agreed, "and if the smoke hadn't been going up good and plenty we would never have seen that!"

The next moment the lad at the fires saw Will and George approaching and ran forward to meet them, uttering as he ran the sharp, quick bark of the fox. The boys responded with the challenge of the Beaver Patrol.

The lad met the two with anything but a serious or anxious expression on his face. He grasped them heartily by the hand and pointed toward the columns of smoke, still rising into the sky.

"No matter where you start a signal fire," he said with a smile, "you're sure to find some Boy Scout who will understand and answer."

"Even in Alaska!" George grinned. "A thousand miles from nowhere you can dig up a nest of Boy Scouts by sending up an Indian sign for help."

"Are you Will Smith?" the boy asked after a few more words of greeting had been exchanged. "If you are, I've come along way to find you!"

"Yes, I am Will Smith," the boy answered.

"How'd you guess it?" asked George. "Why didn't you ask me if I was the boss of the bunch? Don't I look dignified enough?"

"I have a description of Will Smith lying nicely tucked in at the back of my brain!" replied the boy. "Mr. Horton told me where I'd be apt to find him. It seems that I've found him all right, but in doing so, I've lost my chum! Haven't seen anything of a stray Boy Scout, have you?"

Will did not reply to the question immediately, yet he did not care to convey to the boy the news of what had occurred until after a clear understanding of the situation had been reached.

"What's your name?" asked George.

"Frank Disbrow, Fox Patrol, Chicago," was the reply.

"And your chum?" asked Will.

"Bert Calkins, Fox Patrol, Chicago."

"Do you mean to tell me that you have followed us boys from Chicago?"

asked George. "You've had a long chase if you have done so!"

"No," answered Frank, "we were very much surprised, one day, to receive a wireless telegram from my father, who is connected in various business operations with Lawyer Horton. The wireless stated that father had work for us to do in Alaska, and the result of it all was that we received a long message in code from Mr. Horton."

"In code?" asked Will, excitedly.

"Exactly! In code."

"In whose code?" asked Will.

"Father's," was the reply.

"I see," said Will. "And you, of course, understand your father's code?"

"Certainly!" was the answer.

"What did the message in code say?" asked George.

"It was addressed to Will Smith," was the answer, "and I, following instructions, did not translate it."

"The message to you simply requested the delivery of the code message?"

asked Will.

"Yes, that's all it told us to do."

"Do you know what the code message contained?" asked Will.

"I do not!" was the reply. "You see," the boy went on, "Bert Calkins and I were at Cordova on a vacation. If the wireless message had been two hours later it would have found us on the way to Cook Inlet."

"Just traveling about for the fun of the thing, eh?" asked George.

"That's the idea," replied Frank.

"Perhaps we'd better return to the cabin before we get the history of this boy's life," suggested George, with a grin. "I don't like the way these mosquitos howl about my ears. I'm afraid they'll devour the net and begin on me."

"The cabin?" repeated Frank. "Did you find the cabin?"

"Sure we did," answered George. "And we left the cabin for an hour or so last night, and when we came back we found a member of the Fox Patrol asleep on the floor."

"So that's where Bert went, is it?" asked Frank. "You see," the boy went on, "I got separated from Bert just this side of Katalla. He loitered behind to view the scenery, or something of that sort, and I came on ahead."

"And he never caught up with you?" asked George.

"He never did," was the reply, "although I saw him at different times during yesterday. I thought he headed off in this direction, and so came here. I've had rather a bad night looking for him."

"He had the code message addressed to Will?" asked George.