Boy Scouts of the Geological Survey Read online

  CHAPTER VII

  BOY SCOUT DETECTIVES

  On one of the fine courts back of the big summer hotel at Oakvale anexciting game of tennis was drawing to a close. The players weretwo patrol leaders of a troop of Boy Scouts who were awaiting thearrival of "Chief" Denmead, their Scout Master, before going overto Pioneer Lake for the opening of camp. Walter Osborne, of theHawk patrol, and Donald Miller, leader of the Foxes were veryevenly matched. The latter was conceded to play the steadiest,surest all-around game, though Walter frequently surpassed himin single shots or astonishing rallies.

  That the set had been a hotly contested one was shown by the scorein games being 9 to 8 in favor of Miller. If he could make the nextgame, the set would be his, and with it the championship of thetroop. He was counting on the fact that Walter was apt to go topieces at a critical moment; this helped to keep the playingfairly even.

  Perched on a barrel, overlooking the court, George Rawson, theAssistant Scout Master, was scoring; while several other scouts hadvarious points of vantage and were watching the game with eagerinterest.

  In the middle of a rally, Don hit the ball a low, smashing stroke,intending to place it in the far corner of the court. Instead, itgrazed the net and dropped dead on the serving line, beforeWalter could return it.

  "Vantage out!" called Rawson.

  Walter laughed a trifle "sore-ly" as he returned the balls for hisopponent's next serve. He hated to lose, but he was a lad whocould take defeat gracefully if he had to, and this last play onlyserved to put him on his mettle.

  Don's first ball was a cut, but Walter returned it easily, and anew rally commenced. The captain of the Foxes played a net game,trusting to his height and reach to stop every ball that came over,while Walter preferred to, stand well back on the court where hecould place them better.

  Back and forth flew the ball with such swiftness that Rawson had allhe could do to keep track of it. All at once, Walter lunged forwardto return a particularly difficult shot which Don had placed closeto the net. Biff! he just caught it and gave it a swift cut whichsent it whizzing past Don's extended racket to the base line, whereit raised a little spurt of dust.

  Amid a murmur of applause from the young spectators, Rawson decidedin an instant.

  "Out!" he called. "Game and set."

  Before the cheers had died away, Walter walked up to the net andshook hands with the victor.

  "If you play like that when you're rusty, as you said you were, Don,"he said pluckily, "I'd hate to be up against you when you're inpractice!"

  "Oh, no, you wouldn't, old scout!" was Don's hearty response. "Why,I remember times when you put it all over me! I'm afraid of thatfamous serve of yours still!"

  "Whoop-ee!" yelled Cooper Fennimore, a scout in Don's patrol,springing up and waving his cap around his head. "That's someplaying, I tell you! For a chap that hasn't had a racket in hispaw for three months, that's going some!"

  "Talk about speed!" put in another Fox. "Gee! I'm glad I wasn'tin Walter's place!"

  The boy to whom these remarks were addressed, Blake Merton, a Hawkand one of young Osborne's staunchest friends, flushed.

  "If you had been in Walter's place, you would have lasted about twominutes!" he retorted. His naturally quick temper---usually keptin control---often flared up and led him to say things which heafterward regretted.

  "Huh!" exclaimed the Fox, scornfully. "You seem to think WalterOsborne can win all the time! Don did start in rusty, but he soonwarmed up---just a little!"

  "Let's play a set, Coop, you and I," suggested Blake Merton, turninghis back upon Don's elated follower. "Do you feel like it?"

  "Sure thing, Blake! But I guess you won't have any trouble inputting me down and out."

  "Cut out the modesty!" laughed Blake. "It was all I could do tobeat you yesterday, and you know it."

  So another court was soon occupied, with Dick Bellamy scoring. Dickbelonged to the Otter patrol, and as Alec Sands, who formerlycaptained the Otters, was not going to be in camp that summer,Dick was Tom Sherwood's only rival for the leadership. Already theOtters had held informal discussions of Dick's and Tom'squalifications, but it was still uncertain which of the two wouldbe elected. Each was popular and had a good record in woodcraft,athletics, and scout games. Another question was: Who would be chosenfor leader of the Wolf patrol, in the absence of Hugh Hardin and hischum, Billy Worth, that summer?

  "Rough or smooth?" called Blake, tossing his racket in the air.

  "Rough," answered Cooper.

  "Smooth it is," the other declared, with a grin. "I'll take serve."

  Blake had a peculiar and difficult cut on which he prided himself inserving. It was seldom that anyone could touch it until after hehad played with Blake for some time, and Cooper was no exception tothe rule.

  "Fifteen love," announced Dick from the barrel.

  They crossed the court, and Blake tried the cut once more. Thistime Cooper was ready for it and sent it back with a swift underhanddrive, and a rally began right at the start. The game promised tobe a good one and it drew many interested watchers, though most ofthe boys had followed Rawson and the two patrol leaders over tothe hotel.

  Cooper won the first game, and the second was in progress, when theattention of some of their companions was drawn to a horse andbuggy driven by two boys, appearing on the brow of the hill andcoming along the road which skirted the tennis courts. The occupantsof the buggy were Tom Sherwood and Art Cameron, and as they drewnear they were hailed with shouts of delight.

  "Oh, you farmer!"

  "Hayseed, where've you been planted?"

  "Welcome to our city!"

  "Come over here and get next to this game."

  They did so, after tying Keno to a post and giving him his noondayrations which they had brought with them from the farm. The storyof the championship match that had just been played was related tothem in full detail; they in turn stated the errand on which theyhad come.

  "You know we've been staying at Ralph Kenyon's farm, having agreat time," Tom, explained. "Well, last night, after Art andI had gone to bed, some mean cuss, a thief, got into the house,attacked Ralph---who's one of the best fellows on earth, boys---andstole some money Ralph had been saving. In the tussle we managedto grab a piece of his coat and his tie, and we've come over toput them in the hands of the Oakvale constable, to see if he canidentify them."

  "Good for you, Tom! Tell us about the fight!"

  "Oh, it wasn't much of a fight," Tom evaded. "But first I wantto know how many of you fellows would like to make up some surveyingparties---four in each crew---and offer your services to the B.N.and C. Railroad to help survey Ralph's land. We can do it, youknow, as assistants to the railroad's regular surveyors, and perhapswe can show them that it would be better to buy part of Ralph'sproperty for their loop line than to buy any of his neighbor's, oldSilas Perkins. And, if we can do this, why, it'll be the greatestthing ever for Ralph, because he's a good sort, and he wants to goto college, and he'll-----"

  Tom paused for breath. Enthusiasm for his friend and interest inRalph's ambition to get an education had carried him beyond thelimit of his usual brief remarks. Such a long speech was a surpriseto himself as well as to his auditors. They listened attentively,and not a few among them caught the spirit of the plan.

  "D'you think the Chief'll let us do it?" asked one. "You know,we're due in camp by the first of next week."

  "Oh, I think he will. You know he has already promised to give usa course in geology this summer, and a lesson in surveying thissection. Then he's always willing to give us a chance to put whatwe've learned into practical use."

  "We'll ask him when he gets here at two o'clock."

  So the matter remained open; and Blake and Cooper, who had stoppedplaying, resumed their interrupted game. The others watched them,forgetting more serious affairs.---All but Tom, who felt restiveand impatient to enlist the services of the constable, and tocarry out his other idea. Glancing at his wat
ch, he saw that itwas after half-past one. In about half an hour the train wouldarrive, bringing the Chief and perhaps a few more scouts. Hedecided to stroll over to the station and meet them and submithis plan for Denmead's approval.

  With Tom Sherwood to think was to act. He left his friends at thehotel, and telling Rawson where he was going, set out in thedirection of the station. His way took him first along Main Streetand thence down one of the narrower side streets or lanes whichbranched off on each side.

  Oakvale was scarcely more than a large village, but it boastedmany shops, two drugstores, a public school, a post office, andfour saloons. As Tom passed one of these haunts he saw a groupof men standing on the corner. They were gathered around arough-looking specimen of humanity who stood with one leg thrownacross the top of a low hydrant haranguing his boon companions.

  "An' Perkins says ter me, 'Now, jist yeou hold yer hosses an' keepyer shirt on, Bill,' says he. 'We don't want no foolin' with thetkid.' Waal, I didn't like ther way he spoke, and so I got kind-erhuffy, and he says, 'Here! take yer pay, and git aout! Beat it!'And here I am!"

  "Fired again, eh, Bill?" said one of the loungers.

  There was a loud guffaw, and another man dealt Bill a resoundingslap on the back. Whereupon the sidewalk meeting adjourned. Asthey passed between the swinging doors of the saloon, Tom touchedthe last man on the arm.

  "Can you tell me where the constable's office is, sir?" he inquiredpolitely.

  "I'm Constable Thompson," replied the man, displaying his badge, forhe realized that a Boy Scout would require some proof of thestatement. "What d'you want, sonny?"

  Very briefly and to the point, Tom stated his case against theunknown thief who had broken into Ralph's farmhouse during theprevious night. Then he showed Thompson the clews. The constableexamined them carefully, and seemed to recognize them. While hewas doing so, the man called Bill appeared in the doorway andbeckoned for him to come inside.

  "Ain't you off'n the water wagon, Thomp?" he asked, with a repulsivechortle. "Come on! What's the mat------?" He broke off abruptlyas his eyes fell upon the torn remnants in the constable's hands."What---what you got there?" he mumbled, turning pale. "Got abargain in-----?"

  "No," replied Thompson curtly. "Straight goods, Bill Terrill. Andit won't be a bargain for---a burglar, unless I'm mistaken. So long!I've got to hustle or I may miss my guess and my man."

  So saying, he nodded to Tom to follow him and strode away, leavingBill Terrill on the threshold of discovery.