The Young Wireless Operator-As a Fire Patrol Part 25

He inquired about his fellows of the Wireless Patrol. Henry had nothing out of the ordinary to report. Then Charley asked Henry to get the forester at Oakdale on the telephone.

After a long wait, Charley's receiver began to buzz. "Henry has the forester on the telephone," Charley explained to the ranger. "What shall I tell him?"

"Nothing. I'll tell him about Bill Collins myself. Just say that everything is all right and ask him to get Katharine on the telephone."

Again there was a pause. "He's got her," said Charley.

"Please tell Katharine," said the ranger, "that it was necessary to stay in camp with you to-night. Ask how she and the little girl are."

While his friends sat in silence before the crackling fire, Charley took the message. "Katharine says that everything is all right and they are well. She thanks the fire patrols for taking care of her husband."

Charley said good-night and laid down his receivers. "Your wife is a pippin," he said with a smile as he turned toward the ranger. "I don't wonder you like her. Think of her thanking us for taking care of you. Why, we'd be scared to death if we were here alone, with that confounded hyena howling out there in the bushes. She must be a brave little woman. She didn't seem a bit worried because you hadn't come home."

"I guess she had an idea I wouldn't get back to-night," said the ranger.

"You know it's a pretty good hike for one day."

Charley knew well enough that Mr. Morton was trying to mislead him. He saw at once that the kind-hearted ranger had intended to spend the night in camp. But not knowing what to say, he turned in silence to the pup, which evidently smelled the wildcat, and tried to quiet him.

"You can be glad that you've got that dog," said the ranger. "I don't think that cat will come any closer, for it can smell the dog as well as the meat. Take care of him and make him useful. Now we'd better turn in, for we must pull foot early in the morning."

"Let's first see if our clay is baked," suggested Charley.

Charley scattered the embers and rolled the clay ball out of the ashes with a stick. It was baked as hard as a brick. The ranger folded up the newspaper which he had used as an outer wrapper for the meat, and picked up the ball with the paper. Lew held the candle lantern close while the ranger examined the clay. Slowly he turned the ball around, picking at it with his knife blade.

"Who made this ball?" he asked suddenly.

"I did," said Charley.

"Did Lew touch it at all?"

"I can't recall that he did."

"No; I never laid a finger on it," said Lew. "Charley rolled it and carried it here himself."

"Let me see your thumbs, Charley," said the ranger.

Charley, puzzled, held them up for inspection. The ranger examined them closely. "Now let me have that little microscope of yours," he continued.

Charley handed it to the ranger, who studied the clay ball intently through the gla.s.s, then as carefully looked at Charley's thumb. Then he chuckled. "We've taken another king in this little checker game," he said.

"Look at that."

While Mr. Morton held the lantern for them, the two boys studied the burned ball of clay. On it were a number of distinct thumb-prints, now turned into solid brick by the action of the fire. The boys looked at each other questioningly and then at Mr. Morton.

"It's a clever rogue who doesn't trip himself up somewhere," chuckled the ranger. "What happened is as clear as daylight. Collins and his companion found this clay while they were inspecting your camp. They must have suspected that it was fire-clay and that you had found a deposit of value.

They took some along to test, and rolled what was left into a ball again, thinking you would never notice the difference. But they forgot that clay would take finger-prints so readily, and they have left their calling cards behind them."

The ranger carefully wrapped the clay ball in his handkerchief, and then in a newspaper. "Let me have this," he said. "The police may have some duplicate prints somewhere. We don't know what Collins and his pal are up to, but we have something here that we may find very useful. It isn't every crook that is so considerate as to leave his thumb-prints behind him."

Chapter XVI

Good News For the Fire Patrol

As the ranger had foretold, the forest guards did indeed pull foot early in the morning. Black darkness still enfolded the camp when the ranger awoke his young companions. Fire was speedily kindled and breakfast gotten under way.

"Better eat your meat, boys," suggested the ranger. "Otherwise it will keep that cat hanging around here. We'll hardly dare to leave the pup behind again, and that beast might get in here and tear your tent to pieces. These cats play hob with things sometimes."

Lew decided that he would carry nothing back with him, as he contemplated visiting his chum at intervals.

"Just take your rifle," said the ranger to Charley. "You'll be all alone on your return trip and with two such animals as we've seen hereabout, it will be just as well to have it. If I were you, I believe I'd make a pretty close companion of it and always keep it within reach."

When they left the camp, they were burdened only with Charley's rifle and food for the noon meal, which they stowed in their pockets. The instant there was light enough to guide their footsteps, the trio set forth.

For hours they trudged through the forest, for the most part in silence.

Although they traveled by a circuitous route, and with eyes and ears alert, they neither saw nor heard anything that pointed to the presence of other human beings in the forest. The ground bore no telltale footprints.

No incriminating marks were discernible on the trees. Smoke was nowhere visible. No firearm disturbed the silence of the wilderness. No birds flew upward with cries of alarm, save at their own approach. And the only voices that were audible were the voices of the brooks.

Under other circ.u.mstances Charley would have been supremely happy. The sun came up bright and clear. No veil of mist floated before the face of the sky. But woolly, white cloud banks sailed lazily aloft, intensifying by contrast the blue of the sky. A gentle wind blew fitfully. The earth steamed fragrantly, sending up an odor joyful to the nostrils. And the little brooks babbled wildly in their joy at the spring-time.

But Charley was not in a responsive mood. The thought of the man Collins and his evil-favored companion weighed upon him heavily. Nor was the knowledge that a wildcat was prowling about his camp rea.s.suring; though Charley was far from being afraid of the beast. And always the dread of fire was in the background of his consciousness. What troubled him more than anything else just now was the approaching loss of his chum. Could Charley have diagnosed correctly the feelings that oppressed him now, he would have known that it was the fear of loneliness more than any fear of Bill Collins or wildcats or forest fires, that made him sad. To read about Robinson Crusoe was all right, but to be Robinson Crusoe was quite a different matter--at least a Crusoe without a good man Friday. And Charley was too downcast at present to realize that the pup at his heels could be to him all that Friday was to his master, and perhaps more.

Again and again Charley turned over in his mind the problem of how he could get the battery he needed. More than ever he felt that he absolutely must have it. Such a battery would cost many, many dollars. To be sure, Charley's salary would soon bring him in enough money to pay for such a battery; but all of his income, or practically all of it, Charley knew, he must give to his father. How he should get around the difficulty, Charley could not see.

As they trudged on, he talked the matter over with Lew again. Lew seemed unduly light-hearted over the matter, and even smiled about it. Instead of sympathizing with his chum, he counseled him not to worry about it, as the way would likely open. That seemed so heartless that Charley was hurt. He thought that his chum, about to leave the forest himself, no longer was concerned. So he fell silent, and walked along in greater dejection than ever.

Long before the sun had touched the zenith, the three forest guards had reached the last ridge that lay between them and the highway.

"You've come far enough, Charley," said the ranger, "and perhaps it would have been better if you had stopped short of this. If anything should happen in that big timber, you are a long distance from it. There's a good spring part way up this ridge, and it's high enough so that we can get a good view. We'll stop there and eat our dinner. We can watch as we eat.

After you've had a good rest, you had better hike for camp. You're a good ten miles away from your tent."

They climbed to the spring, took each a good drink, and sat down to eat their food. The panorama that spread before them was wondrously beautiful, but Charley had no heart for scenery. He ate in silence, his eyes for the most part bent on the ground.

After the meal was finished, the three friends sat silent, looking out over the vast range of territory before them, each busy with his own thoughts. If one could have judged by the expressions on their faces, Lew was little short of jubilant. Again and again he smiled and looked meaningly at his chum. But Charley still sat with downcast eyes, heedless of his chum's glances. But why Lew smiled it would have been hard to guess. If he had any scheme in mind, he dropped no hint concerning it.

Finally the ranger rose. "We've got to shake a leg," he said. "And you had better start back to camp."

Charley got up mechanically. His face showed all too clearly what was in his heart. The ranger looked at him searchingly, and a kindly expression came into his eyes.

"Never mind, Charley," he said. "You won't be alone long. Lew, here, or some of your other friends will be slipping out to spend the week-end with you, and I shall see you regularly twice a week. It may be, in view of Bill Collins' visit, that Mr. Marlin will think I ought to come oftener."

"Have you learned your alphabet yet?" replied Charley, a sudden gleam of interest crossing his face. "Just as soon as you learn to use the wireless, we can talk at almost any time. I'm sure that one of the fellows will lend you his outfit."

"I'll make Mr. Morton an outfit myself," said Lew. "I'll make it exactly like yours. Then you two can talk without tuning."

"That will be bully," said Charley, beginning to brighten up. Then he turned to the ranger. "Did you learn your alphabet?" he repeated.