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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..75be79b --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #54630 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/54630) diff --git a/old/54630-0.txt b/old/54630-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index ac31c28..0000000 --- a/old/54630-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5395 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Camp Lenape on the Long Trail, by -Carl Saxon and Arthur Grove Day - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Camp Lenape on the Long Trail - -Author: Carl Saxon - Arthur Grove Day - -Release Date: April 29, 2017 [EBook #54630] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAMP LENAPE ON THE LONG TRAIL *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - CAMP LENAPE ON THE LONG TRAIL - - - CARL SAXON - _Author of “Blackie Thorne at Camp Lenape” and “The Mystery at Camp - Lenape”_ - - [Illustration: Decoration] - - BOOKS, INC. - NEW YORK BOSTON - - COPYRIGHT 1940, 1935 BY BOOKS, INC. - MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - - - - - CONTENTS - - - I. A Feud Begins 7 - II. “Brick Ryan’s Not for Sale!” 17 - III. “Help!” 29 - IV. Dirk Jumps 40 - V. The Sinking of the _Sachem_ 54 - VI. Fight! Fight! 66 - VII. The Red Hand Revengers 78 - VIII. Shenanigans for Brick 91 - IX. Dirk Hears of the Long Trail 103 - X. Off for Camp Shawnee 116 - XI. The Captain 127 - XII. The Mysterious Watcher 138 - XIII. On the March 151 - XIV. The Watcher Again 164 - XV. The Trap on Flint Island 175 - XVI. Fire in the Forest 187 - XVII. The Flight into the Hills 200 - XVIII. The End of the Trail 212 - - - - - CAMP LENAPE ON THE LONG TRAIL - - - - - CHAPTER I - A FEUD BEGINS - - -Brick Ryan was bending over a washtub out behind the Lenape lodge when -the big, shiny automobile roared up the road into camp. - -Brick paused in the act of wringing out his best and only flannel shirt, -straightened, took one look at the glittering limousine, and whistled. - -“Whew! Will you look at the golden chariot!” he exclaimed to himself. -“Brick, my boy, can it be that a young millionaire is comin’ to Camp -Lenape?” - -He bent his flaming mop of copper-colored hair over the tub once more, -but kept a watchful blue eye on the big car, which had now drawn up -beside the kitchen wood-pile. - -From the wheel of the limousine stepped down a man smartly garbed in the -uniform of a chauffeur. He swiftly threw open the silver-trimmed rear -door, saluted, and offered his arm as the first of the occupants of the -car descended. This person was a lady, somewhat stout, with a worried -look on her face. Brick saw the flash of many diamonds glitter on her -hands as she turned and spoke to those still remaining within the -shadowy interior. - -“Dirk, dearest, here we are! Gracious, what a rough and dusty road it -has been! This camp must be in a perfect wilderness! John, you must come -with me right away to see the camp director. I simply must explain to -him about Dirk’s diet, and I do hope he will see to it that Dirk wears -his rubbers and heavy underwear when it rains!” - -Her husband, an older man with hair gray about the temples, nodded -reassuringly as he joined her. “There, there,” he said soothingly, “it -will be all right, I’m sure. The director knows his job; he’s quite -accustomed to looking after all the boys.” - -“But you know Dirk has always been so delicate! I declare, I wish we had -sent him to Wild Rose Camp again this year—the nurse there was so -sympathetic. But you would insist that he be brought to this outlandish -place, even when you knew that none of the boys of our social set would -think of coming to such an ordinary sort of camp!” - -“I know, Marcia,” the man replied. “But Dirk is growing up now. I want -him to mix with a regular gang of fellows his own age, and do all the -things they do. Maybe at first it will seem a bit like roughing it, but -he’ll soon get used to it and be into everything with the best of them. -Isn’t that right, old man?” - -“Yes, Papa,” a bored young voice answered from the depths of the back -seat. - -“That’s splendid, dear,” the mother said. “I know you will be a brave -lad. Now, your father and I are going to speak to the director about -your diet. Benson will help you with your luggage, and you can find out -which house you are going to sleep in.” - -“They sleep in tents here, Mama.” - -“Tents! You see, John, what sort of place you have chosen! And you know -how easily Dirk catches cold! The idea of having the boys sleep in -drafty tents! I really must speak to the director at once!” She picked -her way delicately down the hill toward the front of the lodge, followed -by her apologetic husband. - -“Gollies!” Brick Ryan muttered to himself, and watched for further -developments. - -They were not long in coming. The chauffeur went around to the heaped -luggage-rack of the car, and began unloading its bulky contents. Several -shiny suitcases landed on the ground, followed by a leather hat-box, a -bag of golf-clubs, two tennis racquets, a gun-case, fishing rods, and -finally a large wardrobe trunk, which the man handled with difficulty. -Shouldering the latter, the man also disappeared down the hill. Brick -scratched his head, stared at the pile of baggage that still remained, -and hung a patched pair of khaki pants on the line to dry in the fresh -morning air. - -He wheeled about as the same drawling voice he had heard from within the -car came to his ears. - -“I say, would you mind lending a hand with this luggage?” - -Brick looked at the speaker with open mouth. He saw a tall, -pleasant-looking boy of about his own age, with brown eyes and yellow -hair, spick and span in white flannels and straw hat. Brick was so -startled by the fact that the stranger wore a stiff white collar and -necktie that at first he did not comprehend what the boy had said. - -“Huh?” - -“I said,” the newcomer repeated carefully, “that I would like you to -help me with all this luggage of mine. That is, if it won’t interfere -with your laundering work.” - -Brick slowly drained the soapy water from the tub, and considered this -request. Then he took a second look at the strange lad. - -“You’re not a cripple, are you?” he asked solicitously. - -“I beg your pardon?” - -“What’s the matter with you grabbin’ some of those bags and hikin’ down -with ’em yourself?” - -“You don’t understand,” the other said patiently. “Of course I shall -carry my rod and racquets, but I don’t care to lug these heavy bags -about myself. Just take them down to my tent like a good chap. I’ll pay -you, naturally.” - -Brick’s Irish temper, never far from the surface, blew up. - -“Say, Mr. Dirk Astorbilt, or whatever your name is, you’ve got me all -wrong! Where did you get the idea that Camp Lenape fellows were a bunch -of Pullman porters, standin’ around waitin’ to carry bags for a ten-cent -tip? Just because I happen to be washin’ out my duds so I wouldn’t look -like a hobo, you must think I’m a bellhop or somethin’. Well, up here, -mister, every man totes his own pack, see?” - -“But—— Do you really mean that you are a fellow-camper, like myself?” -the blond boy asked awkwardly. - -Brick snorted, stuck his hands in his pocket, and stared pugnaciously at -the other. - -“Go climb a tent-rope!” he exclaimed rudely, and swaggered off down the -hill toward the grove of pine trees that shadowed the white canvas -dwellings of the Lenape campers. - -In the shade beside the flagpole, he sat down on a log to cool off. With -a blue bandana handkerchief he mopped his freckled brow and snub nose. A -pine-scented breeze fluttered down the mountainside at his back and -ruffled his unruly red hair. Perhaps he had been a little too hasty in -taking affront at the new boy’s request. He sniffed the air, and its -fragrance soon made him forget the unpleasant encounter with the strange -boy in white flannels. For the thousandth time, he gazed over the -spreading campus of Lenape, and peace descended on his fiery soul. - -Before his eyes, under the limpid blue sky of August, between the -mountains and the little lake, lay Camp Lenape, summer home of a hundred -lively boys and the dozen councilors who guided their many outdoor -activities. Over his head, on the long porch of the lodge, he could hear -the uplifted voices of Jake and Jerry Utway; the twins were skylarking -about, followed by the laughter of “Happy Face” Frayne, the genial -assistant director. Beyond, from the kitchen, came a clatter of pans and -a snatch of song as Ellick, the chef, and his dusky minions prepared -lunch. Brick looked down the steep hill to the boat dock, where a -rowboat full of boys with fish-poles was just coming in from a trip to -the south end of Lake Lenape. He yawned sleepily, and stretched. From -the rows of tents to his left someone shouted his name. - -A group of campers trailed through the bushes in the wake of Mr. -Carrigan, the camp naturalist. Among the boys who were thus returning -from a nature-study hike were Blackie Thorne, Soapy Mullins, and Lefty -Reardon, the latter of whom had called out. - -“Hi, Ryan!” Lefty repeated. “Come on down to the tent, you loafer, and -clean up for inspection!” - -“Right away!” Brick answered lazily, but did not stir. He hated to break -the spell of contentment that lay over him. - -Brick Ryan loved Camp Lenape. It meant everything to him, the camp life, -and for three summers now he had whooped with delight when the time came -to leave the hot city streets behind and make for the Lenape hills for -two months of busy, carefree sport in the green out-of-doors. Here, -among his camper friends and the wise leaders like the Chief and Happy -Face and Lieutenant Eames and Mr. Carrigan, he could do to his heart’s -content the things he loved—swim and fish and get up shows and take long -hikes through the mountains—— And this year, for the first time, he -would be allowed to go on the Long Trail—— - -The blare of Ted Fellowes’ bugle, sounding Recall, broke forth over his -head. He rose, stretched, and sauntered down to Tent One, his new -quarters for the next two-week period. Every fortnight during the season -was moving day for Lenape; then some of the boys who could not stay the -entire summer would leave, and other boys would come up from the city to -take their places. At this time, too, the tent assignments were shifted -about so that each camper could get to know, and live as tent-mates -with, a wide variety of other boys. Brick, who had that morning been -given a bunk in the tent nearest the lodge, presided over by “Sax” -McNulty, the comical leader who directed camp dramatics, wondered idly -what sort of gang his new tent-mates would turn out to be. - -As he entered the tent, Lefty Reardon looked up as he was spreading his -blankets neatly over his canvas bunk. - -“Well, it’s about time you were on the job,” he grinned. “What you been -doing, Brick? Picking daisies? How about doing a little fancy work with -a broom?” - -“All right, Mr. Tent Aide,” Brick answered good-humoredly, and set about -making his own bed. “What have you guys been doin’ all mornin’—lookin’ -for filly-loo birds up in the tall timber?” - -“Mr. Carrigan showed us some partridge. That’s better than loafin’ in -the sun. Say, have any of the pups hit camp yet?” - -This was Lefty’s belittling way of referring to new boys, tenderfeet who -were that day coming to camp for the first time. Brick groaned. - -“Don’t remind me—I’d almost forgot about it! Gollies, I was just -exchangin’ sweet words with one of the juiciest specimens that you’ve -ever seen! Mr. Chauncy Montmorency, the Dude from Swellville! Such a -pretty boy, too!” - -Lefty grunted. “What’s he like?” - -“You’d have to see it to believe it. Mama and Papa and the shover all -come along in the family limmyzine to see that little Algy gets here -without getting his tootsies wet! ‘And I sye, me good feller,’” he -mimicked, “‘would you be kind enough to carry me bags down to the -_ho_-tel?’” - -Lefty’s jaw gaped. “Gee, he sure must be a green one!” - -“Wait till you see him! He’s the Millionaire Baby, and no mistake! I -pity the poor guys that get in his tent——” Brick Ryan broke off suddenly -as a shadow fell over his shoulder. He looked up, and gasped. - -At the door of the tent stood a blond young fellow in white flannels. A -few paces away a chauffeur in uniform stood respectfully, laden with -shiny suitcases and sporting goods. - -“Oh, there you are again,” the lad said breezily. “Sorry to trouble you, -but is this Tent One? If it is, I believe I shall have the pleasure of -sharing it with you chaps. My name is Dirk Van Horn, and the camp -director has assigned me to stay here. I hope that we shall all be very -happy and friendly tent-mates!” - - - - - CHAPTER II - “BRICK RYAN’S NOT FOR SALE!” - - -Brick was too aghast to think of anything to say. He scowled, threw up -his hands helplessly, and deliberately turned his back on the smiling -Van Horn. - -But Lefty, whatever he might think about “pups” in private, had been -appointed councilor’s aide for Tent One, and as such was camper-leader -in charge when Sax McNulty was not in sight. He rose and extended a hand -to the newcomer. - -“Glad to meet you, Van. My name’s Reardon. I see you’ve got a baseball -glove there among your things. We need good fielders on the camp -team—some stiff games are coming up. We’ll talk about it later. Yes, -this is Tent One. I hear you’ve met Brick Ryan, over here,” he said -easily. “The rest of the bunch will be along pretty quick, except for -some of the new boys that are hitting camp today.” - -“Thanks. We passed a hay-wagon full of young chaps down the road a few -miles,” answered Van Horn. “They seemed to be having lunch.” - -“They’ll be along later, I guess. Hope we get some good ones for Tent -One. Sax McNulty went down to show them the way. He’s our leader—you -ought to hear him shake out a tune from that saxophone of his! Then, -outside of you and Brick and myself, we’ve got little Joey Fellowes and -Slim Yerkes—— But dump your stuff down here on the floor, and after -lunch I’ll show you where to stow things.” - -Benson, the chauffeur, gladly stacked his load of baggage inside the -tent, and returned for the remainder. His young master spread his legs -apart and looked over the tent with a patronizing air. - -“Nice little place you’ve got here, but it could be fixed up better. -I’ve got some pennants and a few pictures in my trunk that we can stick -around to make it look quite homelike, I fancy.” - -Lefty smiled grimly. “We mostly do our decorating up at the lodge, where -there’s plenty of room. With seven fellows and a leader in a tent this -size, we have to save space for the things we use every day. You seem to -have a lot of junk there—enough to take up a whole tent yourself. After -lunch we’ll weed out what you need and the rest can be stored under the -lodge.” - -“I don’t know about that. A chap wants to be comfortable, doesn’t he? -Oh, I guess there are my folks coming to say good-bye! Hello, Mama!” - -Brick scornfully watched the approach of the fond parents. The lady, -after embracing her boy, looked disdainfully about the tent and its -simple furnishings. She did not sniff, but she looked as if she might at -any moment. - -“Gracious, John, do you really think we should leave Dirk here? I’m glad -we thought to bring up his spring cot and mattress—the idea of having a -growing boy sleep on plain canvas stretchers like these!” - -“The other boys don’t seem to have suffered,” Mr. Van Horn smiled -feebly. - -“This is Reardon, Papa,” his son said. “Plays baseball, you know.” - -“Fine! Fine! Well, young men, Benson is bringing down a big watermelon -for Dirk’s tent-mates. Guess you won’t mind a cool slice later on? Now, -Dirk, your mother and I are going. We’ll have lunch in Elmville. If you -want anything, write or wire me and we’ll see what the old man can do. -That canoe ought to be along in the morning.” - -“Thank you, Papa.” Dirk turned to Lefty. “Back in a minute, old chap.” -He waved a hand and accompanied his parents up the hill toward the -waiting automobile, where no doubt a fond farewell was to take place. - -As soon as they were out of sight, Brick faced his friend. - -“What a fine sister we drew!” he exclaimed. “Well, what do you think of -the Millionaire Baby now?” - -Lefty returned to his task of tidying up the tent beside his bunk. “Aw, -lay off, Brick. It isn’t his fault he’s a poor little rich boy. He seems -to me like a pretty decent sort, and that watermelon will come in mighty -handy, too. Just because he took you for a kitchen mechanic, you’ve got -it in for him. Snap out of it! There goes First Call, and here’s the -tent still in a gosh-awful mess. Stir yourself!” - -Brick Ryan bent moodily to the work. After a moment, he snorted as his -eye fell once more on the shiny heap of luggage and sport outfits, and -his scorn broke forth anew. - -“Just the same, Lefty my son, Little Lord Fauntleroy will need a bit of -polishin’ before he’s a true-blue Lenape man, and F. X. A. Ryan is the -lad to give it to him,” he muttered darkly. “Mark my words, young -Chauncy is in for a lot of fine adventures he never dreamed of back in -dear old Swellville!” - -During lunch, Brick listened with ill-concealed disgust while young Van -Horn chatted with Lefty about baseball and prep school and asked the -usual list of silly questions that a new camper always puts. When the -meal was over, Brick and silent Slim Yerkes washed the dishes in short -order, and then retired to the tent for quiet hour. Slim soon left to -visit a friend in a neighboring tent, and Brick stretched out on his -bunk with a copy of the life-saving manual, to study up for the various -tests that were a part of the badge requirements. But no sooner had he -settled himself than Dirk Van Horn, followed by the admiring little Joey -Fellowes, came down from the camp store. - -“What a silly rule they have here, that a fellow can’t spend more than -fifteen cents a day at the store!” Dirk was complaining, munching a -chocolate bar. “Up at Wild Rose Camp last year we could spend as much as -we wanted, and they had everything—ice-cream cones every day. Why, I -could buy out this little store if I wanted to! Here, youngster, have a -bag of almonds.” - -“Thanks,” said Joey admiringly. “Say, what kind of a place was that Wild -Rose Camp?” - -“Very select. I believe it cost me five hundred dollars a season, not -counting extras, such as piano lessons, archery, and so on.” - -Brick Ryan said “Humph!” in a loud tone, but Joey was visibly impressed. - -“Well, youngster,” Dirk went on, “shall we get busy unloading all these -traps of mine?” - -“Sure. Say, if you could go to such a swell place as that, how come -you’re here at Lenape?” - -“Oh, just a notion of Papa’s. You see, he used to go to college with the -camp director here. I made Papa buy me a canoe all my own if I promised -to come here, but I tell you, if I don’t like this place, I shan’t stay -very long.” Dirk turned airily and stooped to open the large wardrobe -trunk that stood amidst his heap of luggage. “Shall we get to work?” - -Brick Ryan, whose sole possessions had come to Lenape with him in a -canvas dunnage-bag, pretended to read, but he kept one eye on the -proceedings. Languidly Dirk, aided by the awed Joey, began to unpack his -multitude of belongings. First he unrolled a thick mattress—the only -mattress in camp aside from those in the hospital tent—and spread it on -the lower bunk nearest the lodge. Brick felt called upon to interfere. - -“Say,” he began, “that bunk belongs to Sax McNulty, our leader. All the -other lower bunks are already taken. You’ll have to take one of the -uppers.” - -“I beg your pardon?” - -Joey broke in hastily. “Say, Van, I got a lower, but I don’t mind -sleeping up in Heaven—I’m used to it. You can have mine, over here, and -I’ll take the upper.” - -Dirk nodded. “Thanks. Very sporting of you, youngster.” He spread the -mattress on the bunk that Joey had relinquished, and with an -inexperienced hand spread sheets and fine woolen blankets in the -semblance of a bed. - -Next he began unpacking the trunk and suitcases, and Brick Ryan’s snorts -grew louder and louder as the stack of the newcomer’s possessions grew -higher. In a short time the tent was strewn with clothing and objects of -all sorts. The leader’s empty bunk was piled high with suits of every -kind and shade, among them a trim blue yachting outfit with white cap, -and a khaki uniform with Sam Browne belt and white helmet such as -African explorers wear. One suitcase was almost completely taken up with -books and a portable typewriter. Between reading the books and dressing -up in the dozen different suits, Brick reflected, the new boy would have -very little time to do any camping. - -But this was not all. It seemed as if Dirk must have gone into a big -sporting-goods store and ordered at least one of everything in stock. He -had complete outfits for baseball, basketball, and track. Joey was set -to work stringing up an aerial for a portable radio receiving set that -was carefully packed in a leather case. The interior of the tent was -submerged beneath such objects as a big electric lantern, a fisherman’s -creel, two swimming suits, a sketching outfit, golf clubs, hats and -shoes of all sorts, and a black bag such as is carried by doctors on -their rounds. Dirk opened the latter, and took from its well-filled -interior a bottle of pills. - -“That reminds me!” he said. “Forgot to take my prescription.” He -swallowed two pills, made a face, and picking up an armload of shoes and -a banjo case, approached Brick. - -“Excuse me, old fellow,” he said agreeably, “but would you mind awfully -if I parked these things under your bed? These tents don’t seem to have -any closets in them, and that clothes-line from the tent-poles doesn’t -look very strong.” - -“Can’t do it,” Brick answered shortly. - -“Why not? You don’t seem to have a great deal of junk yourself.” - -Brick groaned. “Listen!” he said with some heat. “Lefty Reardon told you -he’d show you where to put your stuff. He’s up at aide’s meeting now, -and since Sax is still away, I don’t mind tellin’ you what the rules -are. We got eight people in this tent. Suppose every single one of them -had as much stuff as you’ve got?” - -“But I can see they haven’t, so——” - -“Wait! We have inspection here every day, to see which tent wins the -pennant. Everything has got to be in its place, and there’s a place for -everything. Beds made in a certain way, clothes folded in a certain way, -shoes in a line under the bunk, everything polished up and swept out. Do -you figure on cleanin’ up all that stuff every day, or are you goin’ to -hire Joey as a valet?” - -“My dear chap, I merely——” - -“My advice to you,” Brick went on, “is to pick out from that mess just -what you need every day, and store the rest in the lodge. Then we might -have some room to move around. Do you get that?” - -A crimson flush mounted from beneath Dirk’s immaculate white collar and -spread over his pale features, but he said nothing. He dropped the -things on the floor in a heap, and sat down on a locker-box, watching -Joey sort out a collection of stockings and handkerchiefs. Brick -pointedly returned to his life-saving manual. - -For the first time since he had arrived at Lenape a few hours before, -Dirk Van Horn paused to think. He could not see that he had done -anything to merit such a harsh tone as that used by the red-headed Irish -boy. Of course there was that awkward mistake when Ryan had been washing -his things back of the kitchen; but that might have happened to anyone. -Dirk had never before met a boy of the independent stripe of Brick Ryan. -There had been no boys like him at “select” Wild Rose Camp, nor in what -his mother called their “social set” back in the city. But Dirk wanted -everybody to like him. He wanted Brick to like him and admire him. He -went about it in the only way he knew—but it was the wrong way. - -Brick was aware of a tap on his shoulder. He turned; before him stood -the despised Van Horn in his citified garments. There was a smile on his -face. His right hand was outstretched frankly; his left hand held a -tennis racquet of the most expensive make. - -“Look here, Ryan, old chap,” Dirk began. “We have to live together. -Let’s be friends! What say? I know I was a chump a while ago, but I -apologize, and I hope we’ll get along splendidly. Now, just to show you -I think a lot of you, I hope you’ll accept this little present. It’s -just a trifle, and I have two of them—but perhaps it will prove how much -I want to be your friend.” - -Before the amazed Brick knew what was happening, the other had pressed -the handle of the racquet into his hand, and clapped him on the -shoulder. - -“That’s the spirit! Now we’re fast friends, you know!” - -Brick stared at the gift. Fashioned of finest wood and gut, it -represented at the least an amount that Brick would have had to work on -his paper-route, back in the city, for a month to earn. Unbelievingly he -looked from the gift to the giver. A sudden tide of red anger flooded -his freckled face to the roots of his red hair. He jumped up, flung off -the outstretched hand, and faced Van Horn. There was an ugly look on his -face, and ugly words rose to his Irish tongue. - -“Friends, is it!” he shouted. “Gollies, you and your little presents! -Pup, get this! You or the likes of you can’t buy Brick Ryan’s little -finger, and you can’t bribe him, either! You and all your pretty junk -may go over big with kids like Joey that don’t know any better, but -Brick Ryan’s not for sale!” - -Dirk’s mouth fell open, and he backed off hastily. “Why—Why, I’m sorry—I -didn’t think you’d take it that way! Of course, if you don’t care to -accept it——” - -“Yah!” cried the Irish boy. With sudden fury he flung the offending -tennis racquet in a wide curve. It fell out of sight into a clump of -bushes some yards away; and Brick Ryan, with clenched fists, turned on -his heel and stalked from the tent. - - - - - CHAPTER III - “HELP!” - - -Dirk Van Horn wondered if he were going to like Camp Lenape. There -seemed to be far too many uncomfortable rules that got in the way when a -fellow wanted to have some fun. Then, too, outside of little Joey -Fellowes, nobody had seemed duly impressed with his father’s wealth and -his luxurious camping outfit. It was clear that this was going to be -quite different from Wild Rose Camp, where everyone knew that he was J. -T. Van Horn’s only son, and where he and his tutor had shared a cosy -cottage with every convenience that money could buy. - -Dirk sighed; then turned suddenly as a new idea struck him. He’d show -these kids what a real sportsman could do! - -“Joey, old son,” he said, “would you mind clearing up the rest of this -stuff? I’m going to take a look around the woods and see what the -chances are for a bit of sport.” - -“What you going to do, Van?” - -“Oh, just a bit of gunning. That chap Reardon mentioned at lunch that he -had scared up some partridge on the mountain this morning. I thought I -might get a shot at a few.” - -Joey Fellowes stood aghast at such daring. “Whe—you mean, shoot them? -Say, nobody at Lenape ever does that! We just go out and watch birds and -animals and things, and try to study them and take pictures of them. -Nobody in camp is supposed to have a gun!” - -“Humph! What do they come up here in the woods for? Well, here’s one -person who isn’t going to overlook a chance if he happens to see one!” - -“But—but—— Why, Sax McNulty or any of the rest of the councilors would -sure bawl you out if they found you with a gun! It’s against the camp -rules!” - -“Bother the old rules! Good heavens, McNulty may change his mind pretty -quick if I present him with a nice bag of partridge ready for Tent One -to eat for supper.” With deliberate casualness, Dirk slung his gun-case -over his shoulder, unearthed from a suitcase a large box of chocolate -cake as provisions, and paused at the door of the tent. “Come along if -you like, Fellowes.” - -“No—no thanks,” blurted Joey. “You better report to the Chief before you -go.” - -“I won’t be long,” said Dirk carelessly. “Well, then, ta-ta! If you’ve -got most of my things stowed away by the time I come back, I’ll slip you -a dollar or two.” - -With these generous words, Dirk waved an easy farewell, and strode off -through the trees, taking care to make a wide circle about the lodge, -where some fussy councilor might see him and keep him from his purpose. -His plan was simple. He wanted to make Brick Ryan and the rest of the -campers realize what a fine fellow was now in their midst. If he could -casually stroll into the tent with a dozen partridge in one hand and his -shiny new rifle in the other, they would see at a glance that here was a -comrade to be reckoned with! He conjured up pleasant pictures of their -surprise and admiration, himself the center of the group. - -Still lost in these happy visions, he crossed a sunny meadow and picked -his way over the dusty, rutted country road that led to camp. Here he -plunged into thick woods, making straight up the mountainside. It was -cool in the leafy forest, and he would have been very well contented -save that a swarm of gnats hovered over his hatless head in a buzzing -cloud, following wherever he went. His coat was too warm, but he did not -want to carry it as his hands were already full, and he wished to be -free in case he located the desired covey of partridge. - -Ahead lay a flat, marshy stretch of ground, where clumps of grass and -rotting tree-limbs formed a half-submerged, muddy mass. There was no -path going around, and Dirk, balancing his burdens dangerously, jumped -from one solid-looking tuft to another. More than once he slipped on the -rotting stuff, and floundered ankle-deep in slimy water. Long before he -reached the other side, he regretted that he had not changed his city -flannels for togs more suited to mountain work. His low sport shoes were -caked with ooze and half full of water; his erstwhile spotless white -flannels were muddied, streaked with green scum, and a triangular tear -on one leg showed where he had come up against a sharp branch. - -Ruefully he sank to a seat on a decayed oak-trunk and unloosened his -wilted linen collar. He would have liked a drink, but he knew that the -stagnant pools at his feet were unhealthy, and he settled back, -inspected his glistening rifle to see that the magazine was full of .22 -caliber cartridges, and then slowly began munching the cake he had -brought with him. - -He had barely eaten half of it, however, when he leaped hastily from his -seat with a cry. One arm was afire, beneath the sleeve, with a thousand -prickling stings! A simmering stream of large black ants that infested -the rotting wood—no doubt attracted by the chance of refreshment in the -shape of sweet crumbs of cake—was flowing over his hand and arm, and -even beneath the collar of his shirt. In a painful frenzy he dropped the -cake and began brushing off the stinging insects, stripping off his coat -and shirt. It was several minutes before he could fight free of the -crawling horde, and then, grabbing his things, he rushed off up the -hillside away from the treacherous lower ground. Even then, he was -reminded now and again of his misadventure by a red-hot sting in some -part of his tender skin beneath his clothing. - -So far, his expedition had not been successful. He had not seen any sign -of a partridge or any other small game. Even had there been any of the -birds in that part of the mountain, his stumbling progress would -undoubtedly have given them warning long before he could train his rifle -on them. But he kept on up the slope, smashing his way through the thick -underbrush and trying not to turn his ankles on the rocky ground -underfoot. - -To his right he saw through the leaves a long scar of gray rock -outcropping on the hillside. This promised easier going than the tangled -underbrush. Besides, he thought, if he could get high enough, he might -be able to look around and see in just which direction lay the camp. His -flight from the marsh had twisted him around somehow, and a glance at -the sky gave him the feeling that the sun was not where it should -rightly be at this time in the afternoon. He altered his course and -began scaling the sloping, moss-encrusted rocks. - -Before he was half-way up the rocks, he began to wish he had not chosen -such a steep and rough road. His shoes and trousers were in pitiful -shape. Still he scrambled upward in the hot sunshine, dripping -perspiration, ascending on hands and knees and trailing his rifle after -him. He was glad to see that the rocks ended a few feet above his head -in an overhanging bank of earth and matted shrubs. Over the top! He -charged the little cliff, seized with his free hand the roots of a -sapling oak that grew on the edge, and tried to haul himself up. His -first heave loosened the soil; he could feel his hold slipping. He cast -a fearful eye backwards; if he fell on those sharp rocks——! - -A shower of dirt, twigs, and small pebbles rattled down upon his head; -with a rending noise, the roots he was gripping parted. Clawing the air -helplessly, Dirk fell backwards, and slid painfully a few feet down the -smooth rocks. His rifle flew from his hand, described a short circle in -the air, and landed with a bruising crash upon his outstretched right -leg. - -Dirk cried out, and rubbed his shin. The sharp blow brought tears of -pain into his eyes, and he gritted his teeth. He realized now that it -had been a foolish thing to trust his weight to such a sketchy -hand-hold. Well, he had suffered for his error! - -He clutched the rifle, whose wooden stock was badly scarred by the fall, -and began crawling across the rocks to the shelter of the brush. Every -movement heightened the ache in his leg, which was now throbbing -brutally. When he gained the wooded hillside, he rose and tried to walk; -but after a few steps he gave up, sat down, and began rubbing his -shinbone once more. - -Dirk was not used to giving up an idea easily, and he hated to think of -limping back to camp with torn clothes, and lacking the game he had set -out so proudly to get. Here would be a very different return from that -he had visualized! But now he began looking about him and puzzling just -in which direction lay Camp Lenape. - -The sound of a bugle call floating up from the lake came to his ears, -and faintly he could hear shouting, off to his right, where the woods -were thickest. He could not be exactly sure where it came from, but -evidently camp was not far away. Of course, he could back-track on his -own trail, but that would mean going through the marsh again. There must -be a short cut that he could take. He rose and began hobbling through -the trees, hoping to find a stream where he could quench his hot thirst. -As he went he thought of his mother and father, by this time far on the -way back to the city. Dirk Van Horn was just a little homesick. - -Again came the bugle-call. But this time it sounded from behind him! He -wheeled about, listening. Where was camp? He could see nothing through -the trees. Perhaps if he could climb high enough, he might catch a -glimpse of the flagpole or the tents; but his leg was now swollen and -stiff, and useless for climbing. Where was he, anyway? Could it be that -he was lost among the mountains? Lost! Dirk began to run unsteadily -through the thick brush. His eyes were wild, and the little hammers of -panic were beating in his brain. - - -Brick Ryan was slipping into his swimming suit in Tent One when Sax -McNulty, followed by a racing pack of boys, appeared at the lower end of -the campus. The new recruits had hit camp just in time for afternoon -swim period. - -“Hi, Sax!” the red-headed boy greeted his leader. “You look hot. Just in -time for a dip.” - -The long-faced young man gave him a mournful look. Sax always looked -gloomy, even when he was saying his funniest things. - -“I’m a little sunbeam,” he announced. “I can keep smiling even after -piloting twenty little greenhorns up from Elmville. Dusty but smiling. -Say, who made my bed so nicely?” - -“Me and Lefty.” - -“Good lads.” Sax sank on his bunk and began stripping off his dust-laden -garments. “I met two of the new fellows who’ll be with us this section. -Nig Jackson was one—you remember him from last year. Another is a new -kid, Eddie Scolter, who claims he can play a clarinet. But one fellow -didn’t come after all, I guess. The Chief said his name was Van Horn.” - -“Oh!” grinned Brick, “you mean the Millionaire Baby! Well, don’t worry -about him. He got here this mornin’, and has been around all day, big as -life and twice as natural.” - -“Millionaire Baby?” - -Brick pointed to the scattered array of suitcases, clothes, and other -possessions that Joey Fellowes had given up trying to sort out and -arrange. Sax McNulty whistled as he looked at Dirk’s heaped outfit. - -“This all belong to Van Horn?” - -“Junk enough for ten guys. Wait till you get a look at him.” - -Sax shook his head. “Can’t have that. Where is he, anyway? He’ll have to -stow that stuff before Nig and Eddie and the rest get here.” - -“Search me,” Brick shrugged. “Haven’t seen him since siesta. He’s -probably off tellin’ the little kids what a rich guy his dad is, and how -Wild Rose Camp is much sweller than this joint.” - -The leader pulled on his swimming suit, and looked up thoughtfully. -“Don’t tell me he’s the son of Van Horn, the bank president! Don’t tell -me that!” - -“I’m afraid so.” - -“And he’s going to be here in Tent One this section. Well, well, and a -couple more wells! You don’t seem to have taken to him very kindly, -Brick.” - -“He just sort of riled me from the start, I guess.” - -“Well, he’ll be all right after a couple days here. No quarreling, now! -We must all be like little birdies in the nest, Brick—— Hark!” - -Brick Ryan had heard it too. From the mountainside had come a despairing -cry. - -“Help!” - -He jumped to his feet, and the two, leader and boy, stared solemnly into -each other’s faces. Then McNulty grabbed for a pair of rubber-soled -tennis shoes, and began furiously lacing them on his bare feet. - -“Come along, Brick!” He dived for the door of the tent and up the wooded -hillside, his red-headed follower close on his heels. “Somebody in -trouble on the mountain! We’ve got to run, old boy—and I mean run!” - - - - - CHAPTER IV - DIRK JUMPS - - -In the wake of his racing leader, Brick Ryan dashed through the thickets -behind the tent, and crossed the road. Here Sax paused and shouted -toward the mountainside. - -“Hello! What’s the matter?” - -Ahead came a faint cry in answer, and a spitting crack. Something buzzed -through the leaves of a maple overhead, and a detached twig drifted -down. - -“That was a gun!” said Brick in amazement. “Somebody shootin’ through -the trees.” - -Sax was angry. “The fool!” he cried. “Is he trying to pick us off?” He -raised his voice and shouted again to the unknown. “Cut out that -shooting! We’re coming right along!” - -Again he plunged into the woods. Brick, who had been rubbing his -uncovered arms and legs where his swimming suit had not protected him -from scratches and whipping branches, panted at his side. “Over this way -it came from, Sax,” he said. “Not very far off, either.” - -McNulty saved his wind for running, and his long legs bounded out of -sight. In short order, Brick heard the man’s voice upraised in stinging -rebuke. - -“Put that gun down! Here, give it to me, before you kill a few of us! -Now, What do you mean by this——” - -Brick came to the edge of a little glade, and saw the leader standing -threateningly above a youth who crouched on the sward, guiltily handing -over his weapon. His body was covered with a stained blue coat and the -wreckage of a pair of white flannel trousers; his yellow hair was -rumpled; and on his pale face there was a look of mingled relief and -dismay. - -“Begolly,” said Brick to himself, “it’s the Baby!” - -Sax McNulty seized the rifle and poured out the contents of the magazine -into his hand. “What are you trying to do?” he asked. “What do you mean -by shooting around Camp Lenape? Who are you, anyway?” - -Brick came up, and grinned at his councilor, indicating the prostrate -figure on the ground. “It’s the guy I was tellin’ you about, Sax,” he -sneered. “Young Moneybags. What else could you expect?” - -“My—my name is Van Horn,” the other boy stammered. “I’m a camper.” - -“A camper? You?” McNulty was scornful. “Well, you must be in the wrong -camp. At Lenape we don’t go around firing rifles all over the place.” - -Dirk Van Horn swallowed, and began clambering to his feet. “I—I got -lost,” he began. “I read somewhere that three shots was a signal for -help. They didn’t sound very loud, so I shouted, too. I imagined that -someone might hear me and direct me back to the camp ground. You see, -sir, I hurt my leg——” - -“Badly?” - -“No—I can walk on it now. But then I got a trifle frightened, I suppose, -and things got mixed up somehow.” - -Brick broke into a rasping laugh. “Lost, is it! He gets lost a few -hundred yards from camp, and yells for help! You got a job ahead of you, -Sax. He don’t need a councilor—it’s a nurse-maid he needs!” - -“That’s enough, Brick,” the man said shortly. “Now, Van Horn, if you can -walk all right, we’ll go back to the tent. I understand you’ve been -assigned to my outfit. Well, first off, if you’ve got any more guns, -they’re going to be locked up with this one. We can’t have bullets -flying about. Come along—I’ll show you where camp is. After swim, we’ll -see about clearing up that mess of stuff you left on the floor.” - -He led the way back toward the campus, bearing the forbidden weapon, -followed by the crestfallen Dirk. Brick Ryan began cautiously picking a -path through the underbrush—a swimming suit was not the best uniform for -mountain rescue-work. He chuckled. “Lost, he was! And Sax and I thought -we were goin’ to pull somebody out of trouble!” - -The bushes ahead crackled as somebody ran through, and Brick paused. The -face of his friend Kipper Dabney appeared from behind a tree. - -“What’s all the shootin’, Brick?” - -Brick answered the question with a laugh. “You may think you’ve seen -greenhorns at Lenape, Kipper,” he said, “but I want to tell you we’ve -got the juiciest tenderfoot in Tent One that you ever saw. He’s a lily, -he is! There he goes—Sax McNulty just grabbed his gun in time to keep -him from shootin’ us for a couple of moose.” - -Kipper was interested. “You sound as if you figured on doing something -about it.” - -“Maybe I will,” smiled Brick wickedly. “Out of the goodness of my heart, -I might show him a few handy tricks. He sure needs a workout!” He -lowered his voice. “About twelve o’clock tonight, eh? What about it, my -boy? Are you game?” - -“You mean—pass him the runaround?” the other asked doubtfully. “He looks -like a pretty husky fellow. He might go for us.” - -“Not a chance! But if you’re nervous, we’ll get Ugly Brown to come too. -This baby is easy. Is it a go? Swell! Now let’s get down to the -dock—that guy and his fool stunts have made me miss half my swim!” - - -Dirk Van Horn did not fall asleep until some while after taps had -sounded bedtime for the Lenape campers, and their big bonfire had died -down to embers. He had gone through one of the liveliest days he had -ever known, but although weary, he was too wakeful to join his -tent-mates in their slumbers. He lay stretched on his bunk, staring up -at the dim, quiet stars glowing above the sighing branches of the pines, -and recalling the events of the crowded day. - -Around him, snug in their blankets, slept his new tent-mates. It was a -strange feeling. Last night he had gone to bed in his familiar room back -home in the city, with his father and mother close at hand. Tonight he -lay out under canvas, in the forest-clad Lenape hills, listening to the -unknown noises of the night and the deep breathing of his new-found -companions—Mr. McNulty, and Lefty, and Joey, and the other Tent Two boys -he had met at supper. On the line from the ridgepole hung his brand-new -camping togs, and the other things he needed were neatly stowed beneath -the bunk or in his wooden locker, as Lefty had shown him. Lefty had said -that some baseball games were coming—— - -Dirk sighed. Lefty must know all about his ignominious return from his -hunting trip that afternoon. If Lefty thought him a chump, perhaps he -wouldn’t put him on the camp team! He could see now that he had made a -fool of himself with his silly rifle, but how was he to know all the -camp rules? And that Brick Ryan chap had snickered at him! Why did Ryan -dislike him so? Thinking of Brick Ryan, the new camper drifted off into -slumber.... - -He opened his eyes. His cheek was tingling. Something had trailed across -his face in the dark! - -Through the trees he saw the yellow sickle of a new moon. He remembered -now. He was at Camp Lenape—— But whose was the voice close to his ear, -whispering cautious words? - -“Shh! Listen, Van Horn, are you awake?” - -He turned his head, and saw the outline of a strange face above him. A -boy whom he did not know had thus quietly aroused him in the dead of -night. - -“Put on your slippers and bathrobe and come on!” the voice urged. “Don’t -wake up anybody else. This is just for you.” - -“But what—what——” Dirk asked hoarsely. “I don’t believe I know you. What -do you want me for?” - -“Hurry up!” the strange boy urged. “It’s a party. We want you to be our -guest. Just a little fun after taps, old man. Quick, now!” - -Wonderingly, Dirk obeyed. He found his slippers and robe in the pale -light, while his guide waited motionless. Taking care not to make the -least noise to disturb the sleeping leader and the other boys of Tent -One, Dirk crept softly out into the thin moonlight. His guide took his -arm, and led the way down a path that skirted the upper row of tents, -and then wandered into the mysterious shadow of the forest. A hundred -yards beyond the farthest tent, the unknown boy stopped, and whispered -close to Dirk’s ear. - -“We’re giving a party for you, Van,” he explained. “Very select. Some of -the best blood in camp is waiting to greet you.” - -“Why—that’s very kind of them.” Dirk was flattered. “Where are we -going?” - -The other hesitated. “Well, you see, our meeting-place is supposed to be -kept a secret. Would you mind wearing this for a minute?” - -Before Dirk knew what his guide was about, he felt a large handkerchief -drop over his eyes. He muttered a protest, but already the blindfold was -knotted about his head, and even the dim glow of the night was shut from -his sight. - -“Just hang on to my arm,” said the stranger reassuringly. “We’re not far -off now. This way.” - -He gave Dirk a slight push ahead. Slowly, with arms outstretched, Dirk -felt his way forward along the rough path. He did not quite know what to -make of this midnight game of blind-man’s-buff; but he had no reason to -think that the other boy meant him harm. He remembered that at Wild Rose -Camp last summer, it was often the thing to have quiet little “spreads” -after bedtime, without the knowledge of the councilors. Seemingly, -Lenape also enjoyed this adventurous custom; and he took it as a tribute -to himself that he, a newcomer, should have been selected to be honored -on his first night on the campus. - -While he was pondering this he was stumbling ahead over the rough -ground, now and then tripping over a rock or tree-root and leaning -heavily on the arm of the boy at his side. Suddenly, that arm was -withdrawn; he felt a rude thrust into his back; he stepped forward to -catch himself, found his ankles snared in a rope that had been stretched -across his path. He tripped and crashed to the earth, throwing his arms -out with a grunt of pain. He had landed with a smashing thud into a -thicket of scratching branches. - -The shock of the impact had driven his breath out of him; he could not -cry out. He thrashed about upon the rocky ground, trying to tear the -blinding bandage from his eyes. But a sharp knee was now pressing into -the small of his back, and even as he struggled, someone unseen lashed -his hands together with a skillful handcuff knot. - -“Take it easy, Baby!” urged a mocking voice above him, and the knee dug -deeper into his aching back. “How do you like our little party?” - -He knew this voice! Brick Ryan! - -He thrashed about, striving to regain his feet; but the torturing knee -pinned him fast. - -“Don’t get worked up,” his tormenter advised. “We just want you to do a -few little tricks for us. Lift him up, Kipper!” - -Dirk was jerked roughly to his feet, pinioned on both sides by strong -arms. Behind him rose again the jeering voice of Ryan. - -“Now, don’t go wild and hurt yourself. If you’re a nice baby, and do -what we tell you, maybe we’ll let you off easy—maybe!” - -Dirk choked, and found his voice. “You are a coward, Ryan! A coward and -a bully!” - -“Shut up!” came the savage answer. “Do you want to wake up the whole -camp?” A sharp point of metal prodded the flesh of Dirk’s leg. “Feel -that? Any more hot air and you’ll get a touch of this! Now, march!” - -Biting his lip to keep back the cry that rose to his tongue, Dirk Van -Horn was dragged through the woods. His blindfold was still knotted -tightly over his eyes, and he was helpless in the hands of his captors. -Soon, he could tell by the’ feel of smooth earth under the thin soles of -his slippers that they had come to some sort of clearing. Here his -torturers—he judged that there were three of them—halted. Again Ryan -spoke. - -“Now, you’ve got so much sportin’ goods with you, we thought you must be -a swell athlete. We want to see what you can do on the high jump and the -dash and the obstacle race. That right, boys?” - -“I won’t do it,” said Dirk stubbornly. “Let me out of this, Ryan. If the -camp director knew you were hazing me——” - -“Shut up! Now, the first event will be the runnin’ high jump. When I say -‘go!’ you take off and show us how to break a record! Don’t try to pull -off that blindfold, either, or you’ll get another jab with my knife. -Ready?” - -The restraining arms were drawn away, but Dirk stood motionless, -refusing to reply. Sightless, he knew that he could not run, or even -walk, more than a few steps before he would again be brought to the -ground with a crash. Where was he? Far from any help, any sympathetic -leader who could put a stop to the cruel hazing. Was Ryan determined to -push him, helpless, through the motions of a travesty of a track meet, -in disregard of bruises and broken bones? - -“Go!” rasped the voice. “Run! Run, or——” - -Dirk flinched as he felt the sharp knife-point pierce the skin of his -thigh. His terror was rising, but he did not cry out. - -A horrible moment of waiting; then Dirk heard his unseen tormenter laugh -wickedly to himself. - -“He won’t play with us, boys! Well, that’s his hard luck! Too bad! It’s -over the cliff for him!” - -“Over the cliff!” echoed the henchmen hollowly. “We gave him his chance. -Come on, you!” - -Again Dirk was dragged through the forest, more roughly than before. His -captors twisted about so that he had not the least idea in which -direction they were heading, but it seemed as if ages passed before they -halted at last. During the painful journey he had tried to make some -plan for escape; but it was of no use—there were three of them, holding -him closely; he could neither see them nor his surroundings, and his -hands were tightly bound. Was their threat merely a sham, or were they -really now nearing some steep, jagged wall of rock in the forest? - -“Don’t move!” warned Ryan suddenly. “We’re right on the edge of Indian -Cliff! Now, Baby, we’ll give you one more chance. Will you behave and do -your stuff in our moonlight track meet? Or do you want to end up a -hundred feet below, down on those big rocks, with a busted neck?” - -Dirk’s head was whirling. He tried to fight free, but the clutch of the -restraining arms tightened, and an ungentle hand made sure his blindfold -was still secure. He cautiously felt out with one slippered foot. A few -inches before him, the grassy earth ended in a crumbling edge. A tingle -of horror rose up the boy’s spine. - -“Indian Cliff,” Ryan’s voice assured him harshly. “That’s where they’ll -find you in the mornin’. Well, what about it? Yes or no?” - -“You don’t dare go through with it!” Dirk cried. “You’re trying to -frighten me! Well, I won’t be fooled! I don’t believe you!” - -“He don’t believe us!” jeered Brick. “We’ll have to show him. Get ready. -Let him go, my lads!” - -The two henchmen fell back. Dirk turned swiftly; but the point of the -knife caught him in the side, and he recoiled to the treacherous edge of -the embankment. - -“So long, Baby! One jump, and it’s all over with you! Well, will you -jump yourself, or will we have to heave you over?” Another prod of the -blade accented his words. - -Dirk swallowed heavily, and tears came into his shrouded eyes. “You’ll -be sorry for this, Ryan, you mucker!” he shouted. His teeth were -chattering, and a faint breeze fanned his brow where beads of cold sweat -stood out. “You’re a coward——” - -“That’s enough!” Ryan’s tone was ugly. “Do I have to prod you again, or -will you jump?” - -Dirk took a deep gasp of air, and his muscles tensed. - -“I’ll jump,” he said, and leaped blindly forward. - - - - - CHAPTER V - THE SINKING OF THE _Sachem_ - - -He still lived! - -Dirk drew himself up on one elbow, choking. His mouth was filled with -powdery dust, and every bone ached. Frenziedly, he thrashed about, and -found he had shaken free of the rope that had bound his hands together. -He reached up and tore off his blindfold. - -In the light of the waning crescent moon, he looked up. A few inches -above his head lay the bank from which he had leaped into the unknown. -Standing there, doubled with silent laughter, were the three figures of -his torturers. Instead of jumping to death from a precipitous cliff, he -had plunged dramatically from a ledge barely a foot high! - -He knew where he was now. To his scattered senses came the knowledge -that he had landed sprawling in the dirt road that led to camp. The -tents could not be far away, although, blindfolded, he had thought that -Ryan and his gang had led him for miles through the woods. He scrambled -painfully to his feet and ran up the road. - -Behind him rose an alarmed, muffled shout from Brick Ryan. “Head him -off, Kipper! He’s goin’ back to camp! Get him, Ugly!” The shout only -made him run faster. Up the rutted road he sped, flying to -security—anywhere, away from the clutches of those who had so brutally -mistreated him. His pursuers scattered, seeking to head through the -woods and cut him off from the tent. Dirk lost a slipper, but did not -pause. If they got their hands on him again——! - -A shape darted out at him from behind a tree. He dodged, and raced -ahead, gasping for breath. Now he could see the gray sheets of canvas -that marked the tents close beside the dark silhouette of the lodge. -Behind him hammered the running feet of Brick Ryan. He was almost upon -him! - -Dirk stumbled into Tent One, and fell upon the bunk where Sax McNulty -slept the sleep of the weary councilor. - -“Save me! They’re after me!” - -The leader started up open-mouthed, blinking his eyes. “What—who——” he -mumbled. “Get off!” - -“Save me, sir! It’s Brick Ryan, and he made me jump over a cliff, and -they chased me—— Don’t let him get me again!” - -Others in the tent stirred. Slim Yerkes, in the bunk above the -councilor, sat up and silently looked at the sobbing figure beneath him. -Young Eddie Scolter woke and giggled uncomprehendingly at the scene. - -“Why, it’s Van Horn!” exclaimed McNulty. “Having a nightmare, old chap? -Wake up!” - -Brick Ryan had halted just outside the tent, and taking advantage of the -commotion, sought to gain his bunk unobserved. He had not intended that -his captive should escape him and return thus to the tent and arouse the -ire of the leader. He began shedding his garments quickly, hoping to be -found peacefully snoring when Sax should waken sufficiently to take -charge. But McNulty caught a glimpse of him just as he was pulling the -blankets over his head, and read the situation in an instant. - -“This some of your work, Brick?” he asked grimly. “There, there, calm -down, Van, old man—why, you’re shaking like a leaf! What happened?” - -“They hazed me!” Dirk gulped back the tears. “I’m sorry to make such a -fuss, but it hurt——” - -The councilor snapped on the flashlight he always kept under his pillow, -and examined the haggard boy at his side. “Anything serious the matter -with you? No bones broken, or anything like that?” - -“I—I don’t think so, sir. I’m ashamed to act this way,” Dirk stammered -bravely, “but you see, there were three of them, and they were pretty -rough——” - -“All right. Now, just get back to bed, and we’ll straighten things out -in the morning. We’ve already roused the whole tent, so don’t make any -more noise tonight.” McNulty climbed from his bunk, helped the shaking -boy to his own blankets, covered him gently, and looked about the tent -to assure himself that all was well. Then he crossed to where Brick Ryan -lay crouched, listening furtively. - -“You know what the Chief thinks about hazing, Brick,” he said sternly. -“You’ll start the day tomorrow with two hours on the wood-pile.” - -“All right, Sax,” the Irish boy answered sullenly. “But I didn’t know -the big baby was going to run and tattle! Why didn’t he take it like a -man?” - -“That’s enough! Now, everybody get to sleep again. We’ve had enough riot -for one night.” - -Dirk stretched out his aching body, and closed his eyes. Through the -dark drifted the vengeful tones of his enemy. - -“All right! But anyway, he’s a tattle-tale, and I’ll fix him for it—you -see if I don’t!” - -The morning period of camp duty found Brick Ryan on the wood-pile, -serving his time chopping sawn logs into stove lengths and vowing -vengeance upon the boy who had brought the punishment on him. He looked -darkly from time to time toward the rear door of the camp kitchen, where -the rest of the Tent One campers were helping to make the ice-cream for -the Sunday dinner. Among them lounged Dirk Van Horn, who now and then -lent a hand at the job of turning the heavy churn in the freezer, or -packed some more salted ice around the revolving container. Brick noted -that his foe was now dressed in garments more suited to a Lenape -camper—basketball shorts and a light, sleeveless shirt. If Van Horn -didn’t watch out, Brick mused, he would be laid up with a bad case of -sunburn, for his shoulders were pale and lacked the protective coat of -tan that marked the boys who had already spent a month in the mountain -sunshine. - -“Some people never learn,” Brick muttered, viciously splitting a stick -of smooth birchwood. “Runnin’ home to mama just because we was havin’ a -little fun with him, and squealin’ to Sax so he’d make me do wood-pile -duty! Well, all I can say is, my time will come yet!” - -He was interrupted by the noisy clatter of the motor of the camp flivver -which, driven by Mr. Lane, rattled down the road and drew up at the rear -of the lodge. In the back of the small truck, tightly lashed to prevent -jolting, was a long, curved object wrapped securely in burlap. As Brick -watched, Dirk Van Horn gave a shout and ran to the driver, who was just -descending. - -“That’s my canoe you have there, isn’t it, sir? Listen—doesn’t it say -it’s for Van Horn? That’s me!” - -“Yes, it’s for you, I guess,” answered Lane; “and the dickens of a time -I had bringing it over these roads up from Elmville. We’ve got plenty of -canoes here at camp—what any boy wants with one all to himself, I don’t -know.” - -Dirk was not listening. He ran to the group around the ice-cream -freezer, and summoned them excitedly. - -“Come on, you chaps! I made my father buy me a new canoe because I -promised to come to camp, and here it is! Help me unpack it, and then -we’ll try it out. It’s a beauty!” - -“Listen!” Lefty Reardon protested. “We’re on squad duty—we have to make -this ice-cream, and if we go away now, it won’t freeze——” - -His tent-mates paid no attention to his objection. Dirk darted into the -kitchen and returned with a long butcher-knife, with which he began -ripping the seams of the burlap that wrapped the canoe. In a few minutes -the casing was torn away, and the beautiful slim craft, painted a bright -crimson, lay on the ground with its paddles along its bottom. - -Dirk was jumping around excitedly, pointing out the features of the -superb workmanship that made the canoe a delight to the eye. “Look at -her lines, you fellows! See those soft seats. Those duck-boards on the -bottom are to keep your feet dry. I tell you, you have to pay plenty of -money for a boat like this! She’s a real Indian canoe, and I gave her a -real Indian name, too. See?” He pointed to the shapely bow, where in -golden letters was blazoned the name _Sachem_. “Now, who wants to help -me try her out?” - -“Yes, let’s try her out!” echoed Eddie Scolter. “Come on!” - -“Down to the lake!” shouted Dirk. “Here, Slim, grab hold of that end. -She’s light as a feather—we’ll have her in the water in no time!” - -Slim Yerkes obediently lifted one end; Eddie, Nig Jackson, and Joey -Fellowes seized the sides, and led by the excited Dirk, the group made -off down the path to the boat dock, bearing the gleaming canoe aloft, -leaving her burlap wrappings to clutter the ground. Lefty, wrestling -alone with the heavy churn of the ice-cream freezer, shouted a last -warning to them, but by this time his truant comrades were out of sight -down the hill, bent on taking part in the first launching of the lovely -little vessel. - -Brick gazed after them disdainfully, impressed in spite of himself. It -was a swell canoe, all right, and no boy could help being proud of it. -Think of hitting the Long Trail in a craft like that! But the fellows -had no right to leave their squad duty and run off to play with Van -Horn’s new toy—— - -An amazed shout rose from the back of the kitchen. Sax McNulty, who had -been working up in the ice-house, digging out large blocks of ice and -heaving them down to his young assistants, had finished and returned to -the scene to find that his squad, with the exception of the faithful -Lefty, had disappeared. - -“Hey, what’s happened? Where is everybody, Lefty? Have they walked out -on the job?” - -Lefty grunted, struggling with the freezer handle that grew stiffer at -each turn. “Yeah, Sax—I told ’em not to beat it, but Van Horn just got a -canoe, and they all took it down to the lake to christen it.” - -“They did, eh? Well, they’ll have to learn that they can’t run away like -this when their duty is still to be done. Here, let me take a turn at -that, Lefty. When you’re rested, you can chop some more ice. Huh! If you -hadn’t stuck to the job, the camp would be missing its dessert this -noon, all right!” - -The leader grappled with the freezer. Brick turned to his chopping once -more, and at the sound of his ax, McNulty looked over toward the -wood-pile and saw him. - -“Oh, Brick! I guess you’ve served your time. Do me a favor, will you?” - -“Sure, Sax. What do you want?” replied Brick, sinking the ax blade into -the chopping block. - -“Chase down to the lake and head off that bunch of runaways. Tell ’em to -come right back and finish what they started, before playing around with -canoes and things.” - -Brick needed no urging. He wanted to see what would happen at the lake -shore. By this time, the canoe was no doubt already in the water. He ran -off down the hillside in a bee-line for the dock. Behind the lower row -of tents he sped, across the stone wall, and cut across the edge of the -baseball field to the grove of trees that fringed the rocky lake shore. -Here he almost tumbled over the bent backs of Wally Rawn, director of -water sports and captain of the camp life-saving crew, and the seven -boys who made up his tent-group. Rawn had chosen as his squad duty the -task of repairing the steps that led down the steep bank to the dock; -and Brick had to circle around the busy group to gain the edge of the -lake where the boat dock jutted out from the shore. - -Here, in the shallows of the bathing beach, the _Sachem_ was already -afloat, riding high above the rippling, shadowed waters of Lenape. She -was held at one end by the proud Dirk, while the other boys gazed -admiringly at her daintiness, that made the moored string of -round-bottomed steel rowboats of the camp fleet look like clumsy craft -indeed. - -“Watch me get in her!” Dirk was shouting in a high voice. “Let me paddle -her around a bit, and then maybe I’ll take you all for a ride!” - -He drew the light vessel close beside the flooring of the dock, and -balancing the paddles in one hand, started to step into the bow. Brick -clattered on to the end of the pier. - -“Say, you fellows!” he began. “Sax says to come back on the job right -away. He’s pretty mad, too—you’re not supposed to sneak off squad duty.” - -Dirk turned upon him coldly. “Don’t be foolish, Ryan. Can’t you see -we’re busy christening the _Sachem_? If you don’t make a fuss, I’ll take -you for a little spin after a while.” - -“But——” - -The blond boy was not listening. He was too much interested in making -his maiden trip in the newly-launched crimson canoe. Teetering -precariously, he stepped into the bobbing bow. Before he could clutch -the piles of the dock to hold the craft steady, the _Sachem_ sheered off -and, overburdened by the standing figure at one end, began rocking -dangerously from side to side. Dirk swayed, trying to keep his balance -as a wave slapped the dancing vessel. - -“Sit down!” shouted Nig Jackson. “Look out, she’ll turn over!” - -Dirk, alarmed, dropped the paddles overside and grabbed at the gunwale -to keep himself from following them into the shallow waters of the -beach. In sudden panic, he scrambled to a seat; but it was too late. The -_Sachem_ heeled over across the wind; a sheet of water slid easily over -the low side, slapped the light canoe to leeward, and dipped it once -more below the surface. Water filled half the interior, sloshing about -and rocking so that still more water was taken over the gunwale. Dirk -gripped the seat desperately, trying to right the canoe; but his efforts -were now of no avail. - -Slowly, steadily, the _Sachem_ sank to rest on the pebbled shallows -beneath the surface of the lake, and Dirk Van Horn, with a comic look of -amazement on his face, found himself sitting waist-deep in the water -with his lovely possession beneath him, out of sight. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - FIGHT! FIGHT! - - -Brick burst out in a cry of derision. - -“Sunk!” he roared. “You sure scuttled yourself, all right! You don’t -know any more about canoes than a baby! The Prince of Whales, that’s -what you look like!” The other boys joined in laughing at the joke. - -Dirk still sat helplessly in the sunken canoe, his mouth half open. He -didn’t know a boat could act like that. His clothes were drenched. He -had thought he was making a brave show, pushing out boldly in his fine -canoe, and now they were all laughing at him for a lubber. - -He scrambled out somehow, and splashed about in the shallow water, -dragging the water-filled craft to the land beside the rock. A shout was -heard, and a man came galloping down through the trees. It was Wally -Rawn, who had witnessed the performance from the hillside, but who had -arrived too late to stop it. - -“You there, with the canoe!” he hailed. “What’s your name?” - -“He’s Van Horn, the Prince of Whales!” put in Brick. “Old Sink-Easy, the -boy sailor—that’s him!” - -“Well, Van Horn,” said Wally, looking down at the sodden, crestfallen -figure, “stop trying to pull off that canoe’s bottom by dragging it on -those rocks, and listen to me. I could see in a minute that you don’t -know the first thing about a canoe. Where did it come from, anyway?” - -“It’s mine,” stammered Dirk. “My father gave it to me.” - -“H’mm. Well, before you can go out paddling in it, you’ll have to learn -how to treat it. And you’ll have to learn how to step into it without -sinking the poor thing. In the first place, you ought to know that this -is no time for campers to go boating—when squad-duty period is over, and -you have reported to whoever is in charge here at the dock, you might be -given permission to go out. In the second place, no boy is allowed to -take out a canoe unless he has passed his swimming and boat tests. You -haven’t done that, I know.” - -“Well, you see, sir, I just wanted to try the canoe and see how it -looked in the water——” - -Wally shook his head impatiently. “Look here, Van Horn—can you swim?” - -“Why, no, sir. That is, only a little——” - -“Whew! This beats me!” The councilor scratched his head, and turned to -the other boys. “Isn’t there anybody here who has any sense? Here a new -boy comes down without a leader, and without knowing how to swim, puts a -canoe in the water and sinks it under him! Suppose you had launched it -from the end of the dock, Van Horn, where the deep water is—what would -you have done if you had gone over then? That’s the reason we have canoe -tests—so a boy won’t go out unless he can take care of himself in the -water, no matter what happens. Now, lift that canoe on the dock, drain -the water out, and leave it to dry. Then get back to your work. When we -have swimming instruction tomorrow morning, come down and I’ll try to -show you how to swim. It will be several days before you know enough -even to take out a rowboat; but if you work hard, maybe I can teach you -how to take care of yourself and your canoe. That’s all.” He turned on -his heel and went back to his work. - -Sheepishly, Dirk obeyed, and with the help of his grinning comrades, -drew the canoe on the dock and tilted it so that it would drain. Then -Dirk once more waded about, rescuing the drifting paddles he had lost. -At last, dripping and downcast, he joined the others. Brick looked at -him with a wry grin. - -“Well, if you’re not a sweet sight! It’ll be a long while before your -old canoe gets another bath, believe me. She’ll be laid up until you -pass your canoe tests—and you can’t even swim! The Prince of Whales!” - -“Aw, let him alone, Brick,” put in Slim Yerkes. “We should get back and -help with that ice-cream.” - -“You can bet you should! Sax is sure mad. Well, if the Prince is ready, -let’s go.” - -The group straggled up through the trees. Dirk stalked along, saying not -a word; but Brick did not give him a chance to forget his misadventure. -Instead, he kept up a running stream of ridicule that would have -penetrated a skin much thicker than Dirk’s. Something of the bully still -remained in Brick Ryan, even though he had spent three summers at -Lenape; and now it came out in his words. Besides, he was still smarting -from the punishment he had been given for his midnight hazing escapade, -and he did not intend to let the despised tattler get off easily. - -They skirted the lower corner of the baseball field, and, crossing the -wall, entered the meadow below the campus. Brick had not stopped jeering -all the while, and now his remarks were growing more and more cutting. - -“Yeah, a baby, that’s all you are—a tattle-tale, canoe-sinkin’ baby. I -haven’t forgotten what happened last night, and I’ll fix you for it, -too, Baby.” - -For the first time, Dirk replied to the irksome words. He stopped, -turned, and spoke with his head up. - -“Ryan,” he said deliberately, “you’re a mucker.” - -Brick stuck out his chin, and put his hands on his hips mockingly. “Oh, -I am, huh? Did you hear that, boys? F. X. A. Ryan is a mucker! Dear, -dear, it must be true—the Millionaire Baby says so! Well, what are you -goin’ to do about it, Baby?” - -Dirk refused to lose his temper. “I shan’t listen to all your talk any -longer, that’s all. From now on, please don’t speak to me unless it’s -necessary. If we can’t be friends, we’d better keep apart.” - -“Dear, dear! Now he won’t speak to me! My heart is breakin’, boys!” -Quickly Brick dropped his mocking tone, and his next words were -threatening. He scowled fiercely into the face of his enemy. “Now, -listen, you! I hate sissies, and I hate tattle-tales, and if you don’t -like the way I talk, you may wake up with a ring around your eye, and a -lily in your hand!” - -Slim Yerkes tried to interpose. “Come on, Brick—don’t pick on him too -much. Let’s get back to the lodge.” - -Brick wheeled on the peacemaker. “He’s lookin’ for trouble, Slim, and -he’s more than likely to get it. I’ve got half a mind to poke him one -right now for good luck.” - -Dirk’s eyes flashed. “That might not be as easy as you seem to think!” - -“Huh! Tough, aren’t you?” His open hand darted out swiftly, and -unexpectedly shoved Dirk off his balance. Dirk cried out, caught -himself, and his fists clenched. He was pale save for two red spots that -glowed in his cheeks. - -“That’s enough, Ryan!” he said, his lip trembling. “If you really must -settle this by scuffling like a street boy, who—— I’ll fight you!” - -Brick’s laugh was unpleasant to hear. “He’ll fight! Listen, sissies like -you take a chance on gettin’ murdered if they talk fight to Brick Ryan! -Why, you mama’s boy, I’ll knock you so cold you’ll think you’re at the -North Pole!” - -His words were louder than he thought. From a tent a hundred yards away, -a tousled head appeared, and shouted something to those within the tent. -“Fight! Fight!” In no time at all, the two Utway twins, followed by Al -Canning, had run down from the tent and joined the little ring of boys -from Tent One. - -Dirk was silently peeling off his wet gym-shirt. - -“You’re really going to go against Brick Ryan?” Slim Yerkes asked in -astonishment. - -“I’m not to blame,” responded Dirk shortly. “It’s his lookout.” - -Brick, a grim smile on his pugnacious face, was secretly sizing up the -lad whom he had driven by taunting words to defend himself with his -fists. He was not quite so sure, now, that Dirk was the sissy he had -proclaimed him to be; those shoulders and arms looked quite husky and -muscular, now that he looked closely. Brick decided that the thing to do -was to pitch in at once and overpower his opponent from the start. - -Jerry Utway was looking around the circle eagerly. The Utway brothers -were never far away when a scrap arose; it would seem that they smelled -the signs of battle from afar. “Gee, Jake!” he exclaimed, “the Van Horn -fellow is going to tackle Brick! I’m going to be his second!” - -“And I’ll be Brick’s second,” responded his twin. “Come on, men, form a -ring here. Let’s have this scrap with regular rules. Al, you can be -referee. It’s a good thing no leaders are around to stop it!” - -Al Canning pulled out his watch. “Are you ready?” - -“Just a minute more,” answered Jake. “Come on, Brick, strip off your -shirt. Gosh, this will be a real fight—bare knuckles to the finish!” - -Brick shook him aside. “Aw, I won’t need anything like that. It’ll take -me just one good smack to finish this fight. He’s a coward.” But -inwardly Brick was not so sure. Dirk Van Horn had said nothing since he -had issued his amazing challenge. He had calmly prepared for the fray, -and stood waiting quietly with no sign of fear on his set features. He -did not cower in fright, or try to bolster up his courage with a string -of biting words; and there was nothing amateurish about his pose as he -stood with his clenched fists hanging loosely at his sides. - -“I am ready,” he said in answer to a question from the eager Jerry. - -“Good,” said Al. “When I say ‘Time!’, you can start. All set? Time!” - -At the summons, Brick Ryan plunged forward over the grassy ground, fists -doubled, head down, and struck a sweeping blow at his enemy. To his -surprise, his flailing arm landed on thin air. Dirk had side-stepped -easily, and still stood with his arms hanging loosely at his side, his -face still calm. - -Brick whirled about and spat. “Come on and fight, will you? None of this -duckin’ like a snake. And you guys get back, so I can have some room.” -He plunged again at his foe, and aimed a second wide swing at Dirk’s -face. - -This time Dirk did not dodge. Instead, he parried with the palm of his -left hand, and his right fist shot forward, taking the surprised Brick -in the side. It was a stinging blow, and Brick stepped back with a -grunt. He had not expected this. There were few boys at Lenape who would -dare to stand up against Brick Ryan even in a friendly bout with gloves; -yet here was the despised Van Horn, the pampered city boy who couldn’t -even swim, not only defending himself skillfully from the Irish lad’s -attack, but even striking back! - -The blow had made Brick more wary. This time he did not leap in with his -head down—too much chance of getting caught off guard again for those -tactics! He circled cautiously, trying to find an opening where a thrust -would do most good. His anger was rising, too. The breathless watchers -looked at his face, and waited awestricken for the terrible moment when -the aroused Brick Ryan would wade in and demolish his daring opponent. - -Jerry Utway, his eyes ablaze with excitement, jumped up and down, urging -his champion with delighted cries. “That’s the boy, Van Horn, old scout! -Wade in and tap him one!” - -“Shut up, Jerry!” his brother Jake put in. “Let them alone, or there’ll -be two fights going on here! Whee, look at that one! Go it, Brick!” - -Brick was again in the lists, this time depending upon speed and the -violent fury of his attack. It seemed to the onlookers that no one could -long withstand the force of his charge; his arms whirled and jabbed, and -his face was red with the exertion of his onslaught. Indeed, Van Horn -was quickly driven backwards, and more than once a doubled fist made its -red mark on his naked chest. But he still kept his feet, and although he -was given no chance to take the offensive, he guarded his face -skillfully. Yet slowly he gave ground; Brick had maneuvered about until -he was above where the other stood, and was driving him down the sloping -hillside. - -Nig Jackson gave vent to a yell. “He’s got him now! Go it, Brick! Wow, -he’s down!” - -Al Canning, in his capacity as referee, rushed forward. Dirk was -sprawled out upon the uneven ground, crouched on one side. His face was -whiter than ever. - -“Slipped on some grass,” he mumbled through swollen lips. “I—I’m all -right.” Unaided, he staggered to his feet, and looked about in a dazed -way. Brick, who had stepped aside when his foe had fallen, now advanced -confidently for the final sortie. - -“Finish him off, Brick!” yelled Eddie Scolter. Ryan, encouraged by the -shouts of the watchers, marched slowly and triumphantly to a stand just -beyond arm’s length of where Dirk stood, dazedly shaking the sweat from -his eyes. - -“Had enough?” Brick taunted. His blows had taken effect in more than one -place on Dirk’s face and body, and one shoulder was badly scraped by his -fall. But Brick himself did not go unmarked from the fray; his cheek was -coloring where a clenched fist had got through his guard, and his right -arm was weak from panting effort. - -Dirk Van Horn clenched his teeth without answering. For an instant, the -watching boys saw a stab of fury flare up in his dark eyes. He set his -feet, held his head high, and his arms swung into the guard position. - -Brick advanced still one further step. “Had enough, Baby? I won’t ask -you again. If you’ll apologize, I won’t hurt you any more today——” - -He was too close for his own safety. Dirk grunted as he shot his arm -forward in a telling blow straight from the shoulder. His bunched -knuckles caught the surprised Brick on the point of the jaw. - -A ludicrous look of amazement came over Brick Ryan’s face. For an -instant he tottered, grinning stupidly at the staring circle of boys; -then, with a soft groan, he slid backward, his knees gave way gently, -and he slumped senseless upon the ground. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - THE RED HAND REVENGERS - - -“Ten!” counted Al Canning. “Van Horn wins with a sweet knockout!” - -“Yay, Handsome Van, the K. O. Kid!” cried Jerry Utway, hammering his -champion upon the back. “Gee, what a beautiful swat that was!” - -Brick Ryan opened his eyes. His head was still spinning from the force -of the blow that had vanquished him. As through a mist he could see the -dim faces of the boys about his prostrate form. Among them stood out the -triumphant, smiling features of Dirk Van Horn. - -A hand shook his shoulder, and Jake Utway spoke in his ear. “Are you all -right now, Brick? Tough luck. He sure packs a wallop!” - -Brick tried to grin, and groaned in spite of himself. His jaw still -ached mightily where his antagonist’s doubled fist had struck, and his -swollen lower lip was bleeding slightly. - -“I have to hand it to him,” he mumbled, and with Jake’s help clambered -unsteadily to his feet. - -“Gollies, how did he do it? It was as clean a knockout as I ever seen.” - -“Well, you were asking for it,” observed Slim Yerkes. - -“I guess I was.” Brick smiled ruefully. “Van Horn, I guess we’ve been -gettin’ each other wrong. There may be some things about campin’ that -you don’t know, but when it comes to scrappin’——! Say, you beat me -square, but I don’t hold any grudge. From now on, let’s forget -everything and be friends. What do you say?” He held out his hand in a -frank gesture. - -Dirk looked at the outstretched hand, and his lip curled slightly. - -“Ryan,” he said deliberately, “I said you were a mucker, and I still -think so. Any time you want another boxing lesson, come around. -Otherwise, kindly keep to your own affairs and leave me to mine.” He -pointedly turned his back, picked up his wet shirt, and stalked off up -the path to the lodge. - -Brick bit his lip, and his hand dropped with an angry gesture to his -side; but he said nothing. Jerry Utway left the group and ran after -Dirk, catching up with him and walking at a fast pace by his side. - -“Hey, Van, will you show me some time how you made that knockout? I want -to try it out on my brother next time we have a row. Gee, if anybody had -told me you could put out Brick Ryan’s lights, I wouldn’t have believed -it! Where did you learn how to fight like that?” - -“My father has seen to it that I had the best boxing lessons that money -could buy.” Dirk smiled grimly. “Yesterday Ryan seemed to think that -having money wasn’t of much value; but I hope that now he has learned -that scientific self-defense is a good thing to acquire. And because my -father could pay for those boxing lessons, I don’t have to be bullied by -any street-boy that comes along.” - -“It sure did make Brick sit up and take notice,” chuckled Jerry. “But -why didn’t you make up with him afterward?” - -“It’s not so easy. He hazed me pretty badly last night, and I’m not done -with him yet.” - -“But Brick is a pretty good fellow when you get to know him. Why don’t -you——” Jerry broke off, and cocked his ear as bugle-notes rattled down -from the porch of the lodge. “Say, we better hurry—there goes Church -Call.” He glanced with amusement at the battered features and wet, -stained garments of the boy at his side. “Gosh, you sure are a sight! -You and Brick Ryan will look like a swell pair, sitting on a bench -together at church this morning!” - -Dirk was quite late for church. He went to the empty tent, washed, and -changed his wet clothing for garments more suitable for Sunday service; -and the hour of camp worship was more than half over by the time he -slipped into a log seat in the woodland chapel overlooking the lake. -Brick was down at the front with the rest of the complement of Tent One, -but did not turn his head. One or two boys near by looked at Dirk’s -marked face curiously, and Jake Utway once caught his eye, winked, and -grinned from behind a hymn-book. - -During the bountiful Sunday dinner in the lodge, Dirk, sitting with his -councilor on one side of him and Nig Jackson on the other, intercepted -many inquiring glances directed from neighboring tables toward himself -and Brick Ryan. The red-headed boy, for his part, ate with his head -down, saying nothing. If Sax McNulty had heard of the fight, he gave no -sign. - -When dessert was served, Sax looked whimsically at the plate of -ice-cream before him. - -“Your consciences ought to hurt you slackers,” he observed. “If Lefty -hadn’t stuck to his guns, the camp would be missing their ice-cream -today, all right. I’ve never had my squad sneak out on a job before. -What do you fellows think about it?” - -Dirk Van Horn felt the leader’s eyes upon him. He flushed and tried to -look unconcerned; but the ice-cream, for some reason, stuck in his -throat, and he soon pushed the plate away, to melt into a shapeless -mass. - -When the time came for announcements, Dr. Cannon, who was officer of the -day, awarded the pennant for highest points in inspection to Wally -Rawn’s tent; then, with a grin, marched over to the Tent One table and, -amid the good-natured jeers of the assembled campers, presented a -different sort of emblem. It was a big tin oil-can, across which was -printed in white letters: “Booby.” - -“Tent One wins the Goof Loving Cup,” the doctor announced with a -flourish, “for being lowest in honor points for today. And the first -shall be last!” - -“What’s that for, Sax?” Eddie Scolter asked, pointing to the strange -object. - -“It means we have to hang that up on our tent-pole in full sight, so -everybody in camp can see we’re a bunch of dubs,” explained the leader, -with a glance around the table. “And that’s just what we’ve been today. -Van Horn, you may have the privilege of carrying this little token down -to the tent.” - -Dirk opened his mouth to protest, but the whistle sounded just then, and -the campers leaped to their feet and began pouring out the doors. -Picking up the loathed booby-can, Dirk started walking down toward the -tent. He had not gone far when he felt a hand on his arm, and he looked -up, frowning, to see Sax McNulty’s serious face. - -“I didn’t say anything at the table just now,” began the leader, “but of -course you know you’re to blame for most of our demerits today. I’m -afraid you’re not getting off to a very good start at Lenape, Van.” - -“Why blame me for everything?” - -“Well, I don’t, exactly. The other fellows should have known better than -to drop their duty and help you launch your canoe this morning—but -you’ll have to admit you were the main cause of it. Then, Wally Rawn -told me about your fool stunt at the lake. Also, and moreover, when the -inspection staff came around this noon, our tent was cluttered up with -your things strewn all over the place, wet clothes dumped on the -floor—plenty demerits. You’ll have to learn not to do the first thing -that enters your head, Van Horn—you’ll have to think of the other -fellow, and consider what will be for the good of the camp and your own -gang. I haven’t mentioned anything about your fight with Ryan, but——” - -“He started that!” retorted Dirk. - -“I won’t interfere there,” promised McNulty gently. “Ryan is a decent -chap, and so are you; and I know that after a couple of days you will -get along together fine. Try to get his point of view. We’ve got a fine -bunch of fellows in Tent One this time, and as soon as we get to pulling -together, we’re going to show Lenape some speed! I didn’t mean to make -you listen to another sermon today,” he ended wryly, “and I don’t expect -you to learn everything about camping in a few hours. Come to me next -time you feel the urge to do something startling, and I’ll try to put -you wise first.” - -Dirk smarted under the words, but held back the bitter reply that rose -to his lips. He slammed the booby-can on a nail sticking into the front -tent-pole, and retired sulkily to his untidy bunk. The other boys, with -the exception of the two who were doing the dishes, were stretched -about, taking a restful siesta after their bountiful dinner. Across from -Dirk sat Brick Ryan, busied as usual over his life-saving manual, and -apparently unaware that there was anybody named Van Horn within a -thousand miles of him. For the first time, Dirk noticed that Brick wore -a curious insignia stitched to the front of his jersey. It was outlined -in green and white, and showed a large L superimposed upon a swastika. -Dirk’s eyes passed to Lefty Reardon. Lefty also wore the green L. - -Dirk decided that the camp monogram would look most attractive on one of -his sweaters. He jumped up, and hurried back to the lodge before the -small camp store closed. - -On the porch of the lodge, a short string of boys stood before the -window, waiting their turn to make small purchases of candy, peanuts, -and gum. Dirk joined the end of the line. When he came abreast of the -window, he issued his demand. - -“I want one of those camp letters to put on my sweater.” - -Long Jim Avery, the lanky councilor charged with the duty of looking -after the camp supplies, leaned far over the counter and looked at the -boy with astonishment. - -“You want what?” he asked with widening eyes. - -“Oh, you know what I mean, sir—one of those green and white things with -an L on them. I want to buy one.” - -The boy in back of Dirk snickered. Long Jim gulped. - -“Somebody’s trying to play a joke on you, Van Horn. Why, I thought even -a new boy knew that you can’t buy an honor emblem!” - -Dirk flushed. “But—some of the chaps have them. Where do you get them, -then?” - -“My, my! You can’t buy one—you have to earn it, and then it’s awarded to -you at Council Ring. That’s a good one! Why, before you have the right -to wear an honor emblem, you have to pass a lot of tests—you have to -know a bunch of trees and birds and flowers and rocks and stars, and how -to swim and handle a boat, and hike and cook and build woodcraft -objects, and—oh, lots of things! Here, I’ll get you a card with all the -requirements printed on it, and when you pass a test, the leader who -passes you will put his initials down. Campers have a chance to pass the -tests all the time. If I can help you learn some of the things, come -around.” - -“Never mind,” stammered Dirk miserably, backing away. “I didn’t know—— I -guess I don’t want to start in right now.” - -He stumbled off down the steps. They were making fun of him again! The -boys would spread the story around—how he had tried to buy an honor -emblem at the store—and soon the whole camp would be laughing at his -latest fool stunt! No matter what he started to do at Lenape, it always -turned out to be the wrong thing! Now McNulty would have more of his -comments to make! - -Dirk was feeling very sorry for himself. Tears of helpless rage welled -into his eyes, and he did not see that someone was standing in front of -him until he heard his name called in a mysterious whisper. - -“Psst! Van Horn! Say, I want to see you a second!” - -Dirk looked up. The speaker was a runty-looking boy with a large nose -and close-set black eyes. He took Dirk’s arm with a familiar gesture, -and patted him on the back. - -“Say, I want to tell you. I heard about how you licked Red Ryan. Gee, -that was swell! I wish I’d seen you do it!” - -“How did you know about it?” asked Dirk. - -“Why, everybody in camp knows about it! You’re a hero, that’s what you -are! A real tough fighter, you must be! There are lots of guys in this -camp that don’t like Ryan, and are glad he got it good at last! Say, we -don’t want anybody to notice I’m talkin’ to you, see? Come on, duck in -here and I’ll tell you somethin’ real important!” - -“What do you want? Why can’t you tell me here?” - -“It’s too secret, see? Quick—slide in here.” - -Dirk, fearing some new pitfall, followed suspiciously; but the -mysterious manner of the big-nosed little fellow impressed him in spite -of himself, and he allowed himself to be drawn under the shadow of the -overhanging porch of the lodge. Here several small rooms had been -built—a dark-room for the convenience of the camp photographers, and a -larger compartment in which were stored trunks, suitcases, old tents, -and the like. Through the door of the latter room he followed his guide, -who shut that door carefully and then sat on a pile of lumber. - -“Don’t talk too loud, see?” he warned Dirk. “We don’t want nobody to -guess what we’re after.” - -“Well, what are you after anyway?” Dirk asked impatiently. “Who are you, -and why are you acting so mysterious about everything?” - -“My name’s Blum,” the other whispered hoarsely. “‘Dumb’ Blum, the guys -call me, but that’s only a nickname—I’m not so dumb as most people -think. Now, listen. You’ve got it in for Brick Ryan, haven’t you?” - -“Well, we haven’t got along together so far. But what has that to do -with you?” - -“You’ll see! And you don’t like Sax McNulty any too well, do you? He -bawled you out pretty heavy a little while ago, didn’t he?” - -“How did you know?” - -“I know lots of things!” the other chuckled. “Some people in this camp -are not treatin’ you right, Van! But me and some other guys can see what -a swell feller you are, and we’re ready to help you.” - -“Help me to do what?” - -“Revenge! That’s what! How would you like it if you could get back at -everybody that ever does anything to you around here? Brick Ryan, for -instance—if somethin’ pretty terrible happened to him, nobody would -guess who done it; but you could laugh up your sleeve all the time!” - -Dirk looked puzzled. “What are you driving at?” - -A malicious laugh answered him. - -“I got a gang. We do pretty well what we like around this camp, and if -anybody don’t like it—even leaders, or even the Chief himself—why, -they’re good and sorry for it! We have meetings in the middle of the -night, and we sign the oath with our own blood, and swear that if -anybody hurts any one of us, why, we get revenge! We go under the secret -name of the Red Hand Revengers, and we want you to join with us, see?” - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - SHENANIGANS FOR BRICK - - -It didn’t seem a bad idea, the way Blum put it. The Red Hand Revengers, -with their mysterious meetings in the dead of night, their oaths of -blood brotherhood, and their secret signs and deeds of vengeance against -those who thwarted them, sounded most exciting. Even before the leader -of this mystic society had finished speaking, Dirk Van Horn had made up -his mind. - -“I’ll join!” he declared. “What do I have to do?” - -“Oh, you won’t need to be initiated,” Blum assured him. “We’ll have our -first meeting tonight after taps, and you can meet the rest of the guys. -We all wear masks over our faces, and have secret names. My Revenger -name is——Swear on your heart and liver you won’t tell anybody?” - -“Yes, I swear.” - -“Well, I’m known as the Headless Green Dragon, see? When you send me a -secret note, always draw a picture of a headless dragon, and I’ll know -it’s for me. If you want to, you can be the Silent Dagger, or anything -like that——I know! How about Iron Gauntlet, on account of the way you -knocked out Brick?” - -“All right. That sounds splendid. And I’ll bring a watermelon to the -meeting tonight. My father brought it up to give to the other fellows in -the tent, but they don’t deserve it. And listen——” - -“Yeah?” - -“I’ll write home and have my mother send up a big box of cake and candy -and stuff, just for the Revengers!” said Dirk. “And when they let me use -my canoe, we’ll all go out in it, and——” - -“No!” objected Blum. “Don’t forget we mustn’t be seen together! When I -want to get in touch with you, I’ll leave a note under your pillow. Now, -we’ll have to separate pretty quick. I’ll get you when everybody is -asleep tonight, and we’ll have our first meeting. You stay here a couple -minutes after I leave, so nobody will guess what we’re up to. And right -today, Iron Gauntlet, old revenger, we’ll start putting the Red Curse on -that varlet Brick Ryan!” - -Blum, master of the sinister Red Hand, tip-toed to the door. - -“So long, Headless Green Dragon!” Dirk whispered after him. - -That night Brick Ryan returned from Indian Council Ring to find the -first of his troubles upon him. The campers had been summoned to their -quarters after an evening spent about the four-square fire of -friendship, and by the light of the tent lantern, the inhabitants of -Tent One were undressing for the night. Brick Ryan slipped into his -pajamas and turned down his blankets, ready to jump in. An angry cry -escaped him. - -“What’s the matter, Brick?” asked Lefty Reardon sleepily. - -“Somebody’s hashed my bunk, that’s what!” the Irish boy exclaimed. “Look -there, will you? The whole bed is stuck full of cockleburrs! I can’t -sleep in it!” - -“Gee, that’s too bad,” said his friend sympathetically. “Here, I’ll help -you pull ’em out. Sax will be back in a few minutes—why don’t you tell -him about it? What a dirty trick to play on a fellow!” - -“If I knew who did it, I sure wouldn’t have to tell a leader about it!” -said Brick through clenched teeth. He looked about in the dull light at -the faces of his mates. All of them looked innocent; Dirk Van Horn -looked suspiciously so, and there was a faint trace of a smile on his -good-looking features. Could Van Horn have——? But the heartless trick -must have been done during Council, and Dirk had been sitting in his -place every moment of the time. - -“Somebody must have it in for you, Brick,” commented Lefty as the two -bent over the blankets and began pulling out the prickly burrs with -which they were covered. “Gee, this is going to be a long, slow job. Who -do you suppose hates you so much that he’d do a mean thing like this to -you?” - -“I don’t know,” admitted Brick. “But I’m sure going to find out, and -when I do, you can bet he’ll get paid back for his low, sneaking work!” - -Brick slept but poorly that night, for it had been impossible to remove -all the sharp, pin-like burrs with which his blankets had been coated. -He tossed and turned, and kept finding new spines that had penetrated -through the woolen mass to irritate him. Muttering to himself, he at -last drifted off to sleep. Later, he awoke for a moment, and looked -across the tent, where some unseen person was crawling back into his -bunk; but he thought nothing of it, and in the morning had forgotten all -about it. - -The morning was cloudy, and a cool wind swept down from the northeast. -When Brick piled out of his uncomfortable bedclothes at Reveille, he -thrust his feet into his shoes, as usual. But the state of those shoes -was far from usual. Brick let out a yell of rage. His shoes were -brim-full of icy water, and the strings were knotted a dozen times. He -had to hurry to setting-up drill barefoot over the rough ground; and to -crown it all, his bathrobe was missing, and he shivered in the raw -breeze until he caught sight of the garment hung in a pine tree far -below the parade ground. And he found that when he went to brush his -teeth before breakfast, his tooth-paste tube had been stuffed with soap; -but he did not find out until his mouth was burning with the choking -stuff, and he was frothing and blowing sudsy bubbles, much to the -delight of two small boys who scrubbed away beside him. He washed out -his mouth, but the vile taste remained until long after the morning -meal. - -Brick began to wonder if he were bewitched. What was the meaning of this -series of afflictions? He could find no trace of whoever had committed -these acts. If it was Dirk Van Horn, he covered it up pretty well. -Besides, why should Van Horn resort to such stealthy tricks, the acts of -a cowardly soul? Van Horn had fought him the day before, and won fairly; -why should he now begin a campaign of cockleburrs, watered shoes, and -soapy tooth-paste? - -The bewildered Brick spoke to his friend Lefty about it when the two -were walking up from morning swim. - -“And when I got back after breakfast, I found a big hoptoad in my -clothes locker,” he concluded, “and nobody was around but a little kid -from Tent Seven. Who do you suppose it can be, Lefty? How long will it -go on? I swear, I’m about ready to soak somebody in the nose if I catch -him getting into my things. Am I haunted, or what?” - -“You are,” agreed Lefty promptly. “You’re haunted by some sneaking -coward who is trying to get your goat. Van Horn fought you fair -yesterday, didn’t he?” he went on in a matter-of-fact tone. - -“Sure. I didn’t mind that. But the Millionaire Baby, although he has -some crazy ideas, wouldn’t stoop to those tricks, I guess.” - -“If he did, he wouldn’t stand a show of getting on the baseball team, -Shawnee game or no Shawnee game,” said Lefty. “As long as I’m captain, -we’ll have only square-shooters playing for Lenape. You comin’ down for -practice this afternoon, eh?” - -“You bet, if my glove hasn’t been stolen by that time. I swear, Lefty, -I’m gettin’ so I’m scared to turn around, for fear somebody will swipe -my pants when I’m not lookin’! But, say, do you think this Van Horn guy -is really baseball material?” - -Lefty shrugged. “We’ll try him out. Goodness knows we can’t pass up any -promising players, when we only have today and tomorrow to get ready for -the Shawnee game. I hear Shawnee has got back Hook Bollard and Widelle -this year, and that catcher of theirs—what’s his name?—that made three -runs last time we played them. If Lenape wants to take the best end of -the score on Wednesday, we’ve got to show some steam!” - -When the announcements were made at lunch, Lefty Reardon rose and read a -list of names of the campers who had been chosen to form the team that -would defend Lenape’s honor on the baseball diamond on the following -Wednesday. On that day, the whole of Lenape would trek northward to the -shores of Iron Lake for a visit to their rival, Camp Shawnee. The -crowning event of the day would be a ball game between the two camp -teams, thus renewing a yearly custom of friendly sportsmanship. Lenape -had been badly beaten the season before, and among the campers there was -much talk of the coming encounter, and predictions that this time they -would pay back the old score with a rousing victory. - -Dirk Van Horn noted with disappointment that his name was not among -those called; but no sooner had Lefty seated himself than he turned to -Dirk and said: “Say, Van, I hear you’re supposed to be a fielder. If you -want to come down to the diamond with the rest of the team, we’ll try -you out and see if we can find a place for you.” - -“Sure, try out!” urged Sax McNulty. “You were on your prep school team, -weren’t you, Van?” - -Dirk nodded. “I’ll come down, sir.” He had spent the morning lolling in -his bunk with a book of stories, and had disregarded Wally Rawn’s offer -to teach him to swim. Neither had he made any move to join in the many -other activities of the camp routine. But baseball was different, he -felt; he knew and liked that sport best of all, and had little doubt -that with his school training, he could hold a position on a scratch -team such as he thought the Lenape squad to be. - -When the bugle sounded recall, Dirk, resplendent in a brand-new baseball -suit and bearing a well-oiled glove under his arm, sauntered down to the -field and reported to Captain Reardon, who with Kipper Dabney was -warming up a few curves. Lefty slammed a sizzling drop into Gil -Shelton’s padded mitt, and turned to Dirk with a nod. - -“You can get out there with the bunch and get under a few of those -fungoes that Mullins is knocking,” he directed, “and show us what you -can do. Later on, we’ll have batting practice and you’ll have a chance -to prove you can hit.” - -Dirk, with a confident smile, trotted out into the tall grass behind -third base, and for half an hour, in company with Ollie Steffins, -Blackie Thorne, and a youngster named Tompkins, he fielded lofty flies -and grounders from Soapy Mullins’ resounding bat. Now and then he -glanced at the other members of the squad. The infielders were tossing -the ball back and forth with easy skill, and Brick Ryan, hovering over -first base, missed few of the shots that came near his post. - -When the players were warmed up sufficiently, they lined up one after -another to face the delivery of Captain Lefty and his relief pitcher, -Dabney. At last it came Dirk’s turn. He selected a bat and approached -the plate with a cocky grin. Lefty, noting his short grip, thought to -teach this arrogant newcomer a little lesson, and slipped over a neat -inshoot that took him up short. - -“Strike!” called out Lieutenant Eames, whose service on the West Point -team qualified him as volunteer umpire. - -Dirk did not lengthen his grip; but when Lefty sought to repeat his -trick, he was ready for it. As the whirling ball neared the plate, Dirk -stepped back a pace and his levelled bat met the horsehide smartly. A -clean single flew through the infield well inside the lines and through -the fingers of Ken Haveland, who was covering the domain of shortstop. -The few scattered spectators set up a quick shout of approval. - -When the period of practice was over, Lefty announced that there would -be a short game with a team of leaders the following afternoon; and the -players strolled in twos and threes back to their tents to prepare for -swim. Lefty, on his way to the lodge burdened with bats and other -equipment, found Brick Ryan sitting on a bench under a huge black cherry -tree at the gate. - -“Why so thoughtful?” Lefty hailed him. “And by the way, where were you -for batting practice? You slipped off without telling me.” - -“I had an idea,” responded his friend grimly. - -“I see—and it gave you a headache.” - -“No, it gave somebody else an ache, but not in the head. I put a stop to -all these shenanigans that have been raisin’ cain with my belongin’s—at -least, I put a stop to them for a while, anyway. I sneaked up on Tent -One durin’ battin’ practice. Not a soul was around, except that nasty -little Toby brat from Tent Eight. Do you know, I caught him in the very -act of dumpin’ a pail of water right on my bed!” - -“No!” - -“Yes. I spanked him, Lefty.” - -“But what would he do that for? What’s he got against you?” - -“Not a thing that I know of. It’s a mystery.” - -Lefty threw back his head and laughed. “Better not let young Sherlock -Jones hear about it,” he advised. “He’ll pester around with clues until -he’s dizzy. Well, I’m glad Van Horn didn’t have anything to do with it. -He was down at the field all the while.” - -“Well, he’s stretchin’ his bunk right now, readin’ bedtime stories. How -did he look in there today?” - -“Not bad. He’s a better fielder than Terry Tompkins, that’s sure. And -he’s fairly brainy with a bat. Tomorrow we can see what he can do -against the councilors.” - -Lefty picked up his equipment and started on. He had only gone a few -paces when Brick, who had not moved, called after him in a low voice: - -“Say, my son, what do you guess is the meanin’ of R.H.R.?” - -Lefty considered. “Why, it might be Red-Hot Rhubarb, or Right-Handed -Rattlesnake, or anything. Why do you ask?” - -“Nothin’,” muttered Brick. “But maybe tonight I’ll find out, and if I -do, Lefty me boy, I’ll tell you all about it!” - - - - - CHAPTER IX - DIRK HEARS OF THE LONG TRAIL - - -Six masked figures sat with their heads together in the starlight of the -deserted Council Ring. It was late. Two hours gone, Camp Lenape had -retired to a rest welcome and well-earned. But here in this lonely spot, -their presence unknown to their fellows and councilors, the mysterious -six plotted mischief. In the shadow of the tall stone seat of the Chief, -on the north side of the ring, they crouched, listening to the graveyard -tones of their undersized leader. - -“Brother Revengers, we will now have a report from the Stealthy Stabber. -He’s goin’ to tell us all about the Ryan Curse affair, see? Speak up, -Stabber!” - -“He walloped me!” spoke up a shrill voice, more whimpering than -bloodthirsty, and the little fellow rubbed himself tenderly at the -painful memory. - -“And served you right, too!” put in a third Revenger. “I didn’t know you -were going as far as you did. I think it was a bunch of cowardly -tricks—soaping up his tooth-paste and trying to soak his blankets with a -pail of water—and if I had known, I wouldn’t have let it happen!” - -“Aw, say, Iron Gauntlet, old fellow,” whined the leader; “you ain’t -goin’ to back out like that, are you? Why, Stabber and Red Rover and the -rest of us only did all this stuff to help you out!” - -“I don’t need that sort of help, thank you,” replied Iron Gauntlet, -settling back in his place. “It was mean, and from now on I want to tell -you that I——” - -“What’s that?” cried a small lad to his right, starting up in his place -and listening fearfully. The leader laughed sneeringly. - -“Don’t get scared, kid. Ain’t the Headless Green Dragon here to protect -you? That was only an owl hootin’. Gee, you guys are sure a bunch of -babies. A fine gang of Revengers you turned out to be!” - -“But it sounded pretty terrible, Dumb,” muttered the lad, shivering. “I -don’t like it here in the woods—it’s too spooky! Suppose a bear or -something came after us!” - -Dumb Blum laughed again. “No bears around here. And even if there was, I -guess they wouldn’t bother me! Now, we got to figure what to do next. If -Iron Gauntlet here thinks we ought to lay off Brick Ryan for a while, -why, there’s lot of other varlets around camp we could torture—— Ooh! -Look there!” - -The bold master of the dread secret society pointed a shaking hand. His -small followers fell back, several of them squealing with terror. - -Dirk Van Horn looked in the direction at which Blum was fearfully -pointing. Above the stone dais of the Chief before them rose a horrible -shapeless form, gleaming with unearthly fire. Slowly, as they watched, -rooted to the spot, the monster stirred, the folds of its skin glowing -with a pale green luminescence, and uttered at the horrified boys a -sepulchral bellow! - -“It’s—it’s the Green Dragon!” babbled the Stealthy Stabber, with -chattering teeth. - -Even as he spoke, the gaping mouth of the creature yawned open. A -fizzing spurt of yellow sparks darted from the cavity. With a blinding -flash, a ball of crimson fire shot out at them, throwing a bloody glow -over the scene. The horror was coming after them, belching flame and -smoke! - -Another ball of fire, this time a deathlike blue in color, burst in -their midst. Without a further glance, the terrified youngsters took to -their heels and ran through the underbrush, stumbling, falling, crying -out as they fled from that ghastly spot. Far in the van was the doughty -Blum, almost out of his head with fear, racing as though that glowing -green devil was right at his heels! - -Dirk Van Horn had risen to his feet, and had backed away from the -oncoming monster. He could flee no further; his legs were weak with -fright; his back was braced against the towering totem-pole of the -Lenape tribe; and his teeth were clenched to keep himself from crying -out. Straight toward him shambled the glowing shape, showering -many-colored sparks as it came! - -He stared petrified. The dragon paused in the center of the ring, shot -forth a final rain of sparks, and collapsed to the ground, its -phosphorescent hide thrown back. From within its folds rose a -high-pitched, mocking laugh that was harder for Dirk to bear than the -blood-curdling groans it had formerly given forth. - -That laugh! Dirk drew out his forgotten flashlight, and snapped the -button. A ray of light shot out, and revealed Brick Ryan, rolling on the -ground in a tempest of mirth, clutching in one hand a smoking thick tube -of paper. At his side lay the cast-off skin of the “dragon” that had put -to rout the brave band of Red Revengers. - -Always Brick Ryan! Dirk sank limply to a seat, and put his head in his -hands. The shock had been greater than he thought. - -Brick, still chuckling, rose and came toward him. “Gollies! Did you see -those bold lads run for it! They won’t stop until they’re safe in bed -with the covers pulled over their heads! And nothin’ after them but F. -X. A. Ryan wrapped up in an old piece of canvas rubbed with phosphorus!” - -“But that terrible fire—those lights——” murmured Dirk. “Why—how——” - -Brick burst into another peal of laughter. “Just a little old Roman -candle left over from the Fourth of July! And in case you want to know -how I found out what was up, I discovered a bit of a note under your -pillow this afternoon, tellin’ all about your fine meetin’ and how you -were goin’ to fix Ryan for keeps. But when Ryan came himself to see -these brave laddies, they scooted like the pack of rabbits they are! -Revengers! Huh! Dumb Blum and his gang of babies may be all right for -sneakin’ around and messin’ up a fellow’s things, but they sure aren’t -very happy out here in the woods at night!” - -Dirk lifted his head wearily. “I wanted to speak to you about that, -Ryan. I didn’t know they were going to fill your shoes with water and -steal your things, or I wouldn’t have stood for it. Those were coward’s -tricks; and I want you to know I’m sorry.” - -“Bein’ sorry won’t help you much. Maybe I believe you, and maybe I -don’t; but anyways, you were out here with that bunch, cookin’ up -trouble, and you sure looked pretty cheap. Blum was tryin’ to get you to -do his dirty work, and he’s such a coward himself he has to pull this -secret society stuff and make little kids that don’t know any better -follow him around like he was somebody, the nasty little brat. So that’s -the kind of a friend you pick, huh?” - -Dirk sighed. “I said I was in the wrong, Ryan, and I apologized. I’m -sorry I got mixed up in this affair. What else can I say?” - -“You’ve said enough, as far as I’m concerned. Now, unless we both get -back to Tent One pretty quick, you and I will be spendin’ tomorrow on -the wood-pile. Those scared kids have probably wakened up the whole -camp.” - -Dirk nodded, rising to his feet. “But before we go, Ryan, tell me just -one thing. I—I guess I’m not the right sort of chap to get along here at -Lenape. I try to do the right thing, but I always seem to end up in -trouble. Tell me, what is the matter with me?” - -Brick, taken aback at the other’s frankness, looked at the ground. “I’m -no preacher,” he mumbled slowly. “When—when I first came to Lenape, I -guess I was just as bad as you, and a lot worse. And maybe my trouble -was the same as yours. I was always thinkin’ first of Brick Ryan, and -never stoppin’ to wonder how it struck the other fellow. Then one of the -leaders got me to see that I could get most fun out of campin’ by doin’ -things for Lenape instead of bein’ selfish and tryin’ to show how smart -a guy F. X. A. Ryan was. I—I guess that’s what they mean when they talk -of camp spirit,” he ended lamely; “thinkin’ about the good of the crowd -instead of just showin’ off for your own benefit. Now, let’s get along!” - -“You mean—— Say!” cried Dirk with glowing eyes, “I’d like to do -something for the camp! No, I don’t mean asking my father for some money -and buying stuff for everybody to use. I mean, well—if we won that -baseball game Wednesday, I guess it would be a thing to be proud of! -Ryan, I’m going to play as I never played before—for the honor of the -camp!” - -“That would be a starter,” Brick admitted. “Now, for gosh sakes, let’s -get out of here!” - -The two made their way back to their bunks without mishap, and turned in -to take a much-needed sleep. However, before he shut his eyes for good, -Dirk pondered over the events of the night; and he decided that he would -not forget the advice that his red-haired tent-mate had offered him in -the Council Ring. - -Next morning, as Dirk was racing down to Indian Dip in the sparkling -lake along with the rest of the newly-risen campers, he found Dumb Blum -at his side. - -“Say, what happened last night, anyway?” asked the erstwhile leader of -the Revengers. “Did that thing catch you, or what? What was it, Van?” he -asked with Wide eyes. - -“It was Brick Ryan,” Dirk replied; and ignoring the other’s cry of -amazement, went on: “He made me realize what a silly thing we were -doing, having a secret society and all that foolishness. Listen, Blum; I -think you’re a coward, and if I find out that you and your friends are -having any more meetings of your absurd R.H.R., I promise I’ll make you -regret it.” - -He clenched his fist, and Blum, his jaw dropping, backed off hastily. - -“I won’t have anything to do with it!” he promised. “Don’t hit me, Van -Horn!” He fell back, and Dirk, unmindful, trotted down to the dock, -leaving the despised Blum far in the rear. - -That afternoon the promised game with the councilors kept the Lenape -team on the jump to defend their positions against prime competition. -With Lieutenant Eames on the mound for the leaders, and Chief himself, -in mask and chest-protector, behind the plate, the camper squad were -hard put to it to score. However, Soapy Mullins got home on a two-bagger -made by Lefty Reardon, and in the fifth inning, which was by agreement -the last, Blackie Thorne surprised himself as much as the others by -hitting a long fly that landed among the rocks of the stone fence, and -was not found until he had completed a tour of the bases for the second -tally. But when the leaders came up for the last time, they began a -merry procession that ended only with Swim Call, leaving the final score -5-2 in favor of the councilors. - -“You had us going for a while, Captain,” the Chief called to Lefty as -the game ended. “If your team plays as well on Wednesday, Shawnee will -have to use ten men to beat you!” - -“Thanks, Chief,” responded the pitcher, with a grin. “But it won’t be a -cinch by any means. They have the toughest outfit this year they’ve ever -had, and I’m sure going into the box with my pockets full of four-leaf -clovers!” - -Although the game had not been a victory for the camper team, it had -ended happily for Dirk Van Horn. Inspired by his resolve of the previous -night, he had never played a better game in all his days at prep school. -He had fielded like a veteran, and once he scooped in a pop fly in such -quick time that he had slammed it down to Brick Ryan on first for a -double play against the unprepared Mr. Lane, who was caught trying to -regain first base. At the finish, when Lefty told him that his position -in left field would be confirmed for the Shawnee game, he glowed with -the most pleasant feeling he had enjoyed since he first put foot on the -Lenape campus. - -He strolled back to Tent One with Lefty, chatting eagerly of their -prospects. When the pair reached the tent, they found Sax McNulty and -the rest of their comrades gathered in an excited group around Brick -Ryan, who was grinning broadly and trying modestly to conceal his pride. - -“What’s up, men?” challenged Lefty. “Why all the celebration?” - -“We just got the news that our gang will be represented on the Long -Trail this year!” answered the councilor. “Congrats again, Brick! He’s -going to help plant the Lenape pennant on old Mount Kinnecut. Stand up, -you red-headed riot, and bow to the ladies and gentlemen!” - -Brick blushed beneath his freckles. “Aw, it’s not so much to talk -about.” He choked as his friend Lefty Reardon pounded him on the back -heartily. - -“You’re wrong there, old scout!” Lefty shouted. “I went last year, and -it was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. Talk about fun! And -we had some exciting adventures, too. Boy, when you’re tenting by Lake -Moosehorn and catching a mess of bass for your supper, think of poor -Lefty back at Lenape, wishing he was along again this season!” - -Sax McNulty stared into the distance. “I scaled Kinnecut five—no, -six—years ago, it was,” he said softly. “I’ll never have such a great -time if I live to be a hundred and fifty! Tiny Krouse, my canoe-mate, -was chased two miles by a mama-bear who thought he was trying to kidnap -her cubs! And the view from the Lookout! Why——” - -“Tell us about it, Sax!” begged Nig Jackson. - -Dirk, who had been looking from one to another of the eager boys, now -broke in. “Yes, but first tell me what all this is about! What is Brick -going to do, anyway? Where is the Long Trail?” - -“Tell him, Lefty,” nodded McNulty. - -“Well, Van, it’s this way. The Long Trail is an old Lenape custom that -was started by six fellows the first year the camp began. They went for -a sixty-mile trip from here to Mount Kinnecut, up the river by canoes -and over the ponds to Lake Moosehorn, then hiking through the big timber -and climbing the mountain. Since then, every year, six boys under a -leader make the same trip, and now there are nine Camp Lenape pennants -nailed to the tallest tree on the very top of old Kinnecut, to show that -the chosen campers can come through a long endurance test with flying -colors. It’s not an easy trail, and so only the fellows who are best -fitted for it can go. Once you’ve made the trip, you can’t go again—only -Mr. Carrigan, who is in command, has been over it before. I want to tell -you youngsters that it’s the one big thing at Lenape that you can never -forget! Brick, I say it again, you’re a lucky bum!” - -Dirk was still puzzled. “How do they pick the fellows to go?” - -“Well, they have to be in first-class shape all around—healthy, full of -pep and camp spirit, and they have to know their way around on the water -and in the woods,” said McNulty. “And Wise-Tongue Carrigan has made a -good choice this year, if you ask me. Besides Brick, he’s picked Steve -Link, Wild Willie Sanders, Spaghetti Megaro, Cowboy Platt, and Ugly -Brown. Ugly is younger than the rest, but he’s a fine little woodsman -and can handle a canoe like an Indian. I tell you, Van Horn, if you make -the most of your chances this summer, I wouldn’t be surprised to see you -leading the list of Long Trailers next season!” - -Dirk stared at the friendly face of the leader, and at Brick Ryan’s -happy grin. It must be the most wonderful adventure in the world, the -Long Trail. But next season—that was a long time to wait! - - - - - CHAPTER X - OFF FOR CAMP SHAWNEE - - -“Come in!” called the Chief, looking up from the papers on his desk. -“Oh, hello, Dirk! Sit down and tell me what’s on your mind.” - -Dirk Van Horn carefully closed the door of the little office, and faced -the genial camp director. - -“If you aren’t too busy, sir, I’d like to ask you something.” - -“Never too busy to talk to campers! But it’s a fact that I haven’t seen -very much of you, Dirk, since your folks brought you up here to Lenape. -Of course”—the Chief smiled slightly—“I’ve heard reports of your doings, -now and then. How do you like Lenape so far?” - -The boy looked at the man ruefully. “I’m beginning to wonder,” he said, -“if you shouldn’t ask how Lenape likes me!” - -“You’ve learned a lot, if you know that, Dirk.” - -“I have learned a lot. I’ve only been here a few days, Chief, but even I -can see that I have been an utter chump, all along. It’s taken me a long -time to get things straight, and I’m still pretty green, I guess. But -from now on, I want to tell you I’m trying to be a real camper!” - -The Chief leaned back in his chair, and rubbed his chin reflectively. -“You seem to be in the right frame of mind to do it, Dirk. We leaders -can help some, but unless a boy learns these things from other boys and -by thinking about them himself, we can’t do very much. But I know,” he -went on, “that you didn’t come here this morning just to tell me you -want to be a true Lenape camper. What’s on your mind?” - -Dirk gulped. “It’s a big thing to ask,” he blurted, “and maybe I -shouldn’t say it.” - -“Come, out with it!” - -“Well—well—Chief, I want to go on the Long Trail!” - -For some space of time after this pronouncement, the man said nothing. -Dirk, searching his chief’s face for some sign, breathed a heavy sigh of -disappointment, and rose to go. - -“Sit down, Dirk! The Long Trail, eh? I suppose you know what you’re -asking?” - -Dirk, with new eagerness in his eyes, sank again into his chair. “Mr. -McNulty and some of the chaps have been talking about it, and Ryan, in -our tent, is going. It must be a splendid experience, sir, and I—I—— -Yes, I know I’m not much as a woodsman—why, I got lost within a little -way from the camp!—and I guess I’d be a drag on the rest of the fellows -on a long trip like that. But, oh, sir, give me a chance!” - -The Chief stared through the little window over his desk, a tiny square -through which came a glimpse of the pines and the rippling waters of -Lake Lenape. - -“The boys that Mr. Carrigan has chosen are all picked campers,” he said -at last. “Most of them have spent three seasons here, and in that time -have learned the many things they must know to take care of themselves -on a long trip that would test the endurance of many grown men. -Moreover, these boys realize that in order to get through and plant our -banner on Mount Kinnecut, they must work together as one, must share -alike for the good of the tribe, as the old Indians and scouts used to -do. Out of the hundred boys here each summer, only six are ever chosen -to take this trail for the honor of Lenape. Now, knowing all this, do -you still want to go?” - -Dirk nodded dully. “But I’m bigger and stronger than Ugly Brown, and -he’s going! And I’d do my best to learn everything, and try to keep up -with the rest of the party——” - -“Brown is one of the best young campers we have,” observed the Chief, -“even if he is small. If you knew a tenth as much as he does about the -woods and the water, you might stand a chance. Come, now, Dirk, I know -how you feel. I’ve known your dad for years, and I can guess that if you -ever wanted anything, he would get it for you. But this thing you speak -of is different. You can only get it for yourself; and the harder you -work to earn it, the more you’ll value it. Learn as much as you can this -summer, and next year, we’ll see about letting you hit the trail for -Kinnecut! How about it?” - -Dirk, not trusting himself to speak, shook his head dumbly, and looked -at the floor. He might have known the Chief would say no, but—but—— - -The director was watching him with new interest. “Well, you are -persistent!” he exclaimed. “That might count for something in your -favor. Now, let me ask you a question. You’ve been at Lenape for four -days. What have you learned that will stand you in good stead on a stiff -hike and canoe-trip through some of the wildest country in the state?” - -“Nothing, I guess,” confessed Dirk humbly. “I haven’t even learned to -swim, and even the littlest fellows make fun of me wading around in the -shallow water. But I’ll try, Chief, I will! Only let me——” - -“Your canoe is still on the dock, isn’t it?” - -“Yes. Mr. Rawn said he wouldn’t let me take it out until I could swim -and learn how to handle a paddle. I—I haven’t bothered to learn. I can -see I’ve wasted my time fooling around with silly things, and loafing——” - -“All right. That’s enough. Dirk, you have lots of stuff in you that, if -you want it badly enough, can help you become a first-rate camper. -You’ve shown it by getting out and chasing flies on the baseball team, -and that’s a fine start. If you really believe what you’ve told me just -now, your spirit in the future will be the finest thing that could come -to you. You can see that your chances of holding your own on the Long -Trail this year are pretty slim. But, since you’re so eager, I don’t -mind telling you that there is a chance!” - -Dirk’s eyes widened, and he jumped up. “You mean—— What do you want me -to do, Chief?” - -“I’ll make a bargain with you. Man to man. The Long Trailers will start -next Monday for the river. That gives us five days. If, during those -five days, you can pass all the requirements for the Lenape honor -emblem, I’ll ask Mr. Carrigan to take you along!” - -“Do you really mean it? Why, Chief, that’s a wonderful offer! And I’ll -do it—I know I will!” Dirk cried. - -The director was amused. “Don’t be too sure, Dirk. You don’t know what -you are up against.” He opened the drawer of his desk and drew out a -printed card. “Here is a list of the things you will have to do. It’s a -long list, and four days is a short time. Remember, too, that you must -not neglect your regular camp duties to work on any of the tests. One of -the requirements, and the biggest, is that you must show a fine, -all-around camp spirit; and that means you will have to think of the -honor of your tent and the welfare of everybody and everything in camp. -But if you do a good job out there in left field tomorrow at Shawnee, -I’ll sign this card in this space calling for participation in an -inter-camp athletic contest, and that will be one less test for you to -do before Sunday night.” - -Dirk took the card, and glanced at the rows of print upon it. “It’s a -bargain!” he cried. “And I’ll start working on the tests this very -minute!” - -“Hold on! There’s one thing more I want to say before you rush out and -start your job. Remember what I’ve told you—your chance of fitting -yourself for the Long Trail is a very slim one indeed. Promise me that, -in the event you don’t come through with your part of our bargain, you -will take it like a sportsman, and even though you miss out this season, -you will continue in the same spirit that you are starting now. It may -be bitter medicine to take, but take it like a man!” - -“I—I promise, Chief.” - -Dirk fumbled for the doorknob, his heart full of gratitude and a -determination that was new to him. He found himself outside the office, -standing on the porch with a cool wind about his hot forehead. Through -blurred eyes he scanned the printed card in his hand, reading the list -of things that he must do within the coming days, if he was to join -Brick Ryan and the rest on the Long Trail: - - REQUIREMENTS FOR LENAPE HONOR EMBLEM - - 1. Know the North Star and five constellations. - 2. Collect fifteen wild flowers. - 3. Identify fifteen trees. - 4. Collect and identify five kinds of rocks. - 5. Know ten birds. - 6. Handle a rowboat and name ten parts of a boat. - 7. Swim 100 yards. - 8. Make a permanent woodcraft exhibit, or build some camp improvement. - 9. Build a good cooking fire and cook potatoes, rice pudding, twist - biscuit, and broiled meat. - 10. Play on an athletic team in an inter-camp contest. - 11. Take a part in a camp show. - 12. Act as a tent aide for one day. - 13. Show at all times the finest spirit as an all-round Lenape camper. - -Dirk whistled as his eye ran down the list. No wonder Brick and Lefty -and the others wore their green L badges with pride! And now, in the few -days remaining before the canoes cut the water on the first leg of the -journey to Kinnecut, he must do all these things, or stay behind. But, -although he had never in all his life faced such a task as this, he did -not admit even to himself that he might fail. - -He buttoned the card carefully in his breast pocket. Then, with a new -light in his eyes, he ran down the steep path toward the lake shore. Mr. -Wally Rawn, on duty at the dock before morning swim period, was startled -by the tall figure of a boy who clutched his arm, and gasped -breathlessly: “Wally, sir! Do you think you could teach me to swim a -hundred yards today? I want to learn to swim, and I want to learn now!” - -By nightfall, Dirk had not learned all that there is to know about -swimming, but Wally’s first lesson had given some confidence in handling -himself in the water, as well as a hope that diligent practice should -enable him to swim the required number of yards at no distant date. -Moreover, the boy’s lips tilted in a satisfied smile as he glanced at -the spaces on the requirement card in his hand. Three items were already -initialed. Wally Rawn had found time to teach him the rudiments of -managing a rowboat. Lefty Reardon, a bit doubtful of this sudden -interest in campcraft by the new boy but unaware of its cause, had been -persuaded to coach him upon trees and rocks, and Van Horn’s collection -and identification were vouched for by the initials of Mr. Jim Avery. - -“Only ten more to go!” Dirk breathed to himself. “I’ll get somebody to -show me the stars tonight, and in the morning——” He caught his breath. -“Why, how could I forget? Tomorrow is the day of the big game with -Shawnee!” - -In the morning Sax McNulty looked over at him curiously. - -“What’s come over you, young lad?” the leader asked. “I didn’t know you -loved to chase flies so much that you’re bubbling with boyish glee.” - -“I love to chase flies, Sax.” - -“But not that much. There’s something else. I never saw anybody in such -a burning hurry to have an honor emblem pinned on his shirt. I’m -suspicious.” - -“I can’t tell you now, Sax. But will you help me?” - -McNulty snorted. “Do you have to ask? Now, hop into your bathrobes, you -birds—What will become of Camp Shawnee if you sleep all day?” - -“Shawnee” was the word that rose oftenest in the babel at the breakfast -table. All the boys were in hiking clothes, ready for the ten-mile trail -that fringed the mountains running north. Within a few minutes after the -meal was over, Dirk had seen disappear into the woods all his tent-mates -with the exception of Lefty and Brick, who, with the rest of the Lenape -nine, were to ride to Shawnee and thus keep fresh for the big contest of -the afternoon. - -Dirk fingered his glove nervously, and wondered what sort of ball field -the Shawnee campus would provide. Somebody slapped him on the back. It -was Spaghetti Megaro, second baseman, and a gay light shone in the -Italian boy’s eyes. - -“You’re worried, huh? Well, forget it! If we don’t win, we lose. But I -think we win! Come, the truck is loaded—pile on and hang tight. If you -can ride this flivver, the bucking broncho is nothing!” - -“Sure, Spaghett.” Dirk joined the crowding band that jostled each other -laughingly as they sought places in the body of the camp truck. Stirring -up a cyclone of dust, the car left Lenape deserted, and rattled off up -the rutted lane. Dirk Van Horn, clinging to the dashboard with both -hands, stared into the distance. - -“I think we win!” he repeated softly. “And I—I must do a good job, the -Chief said. Well, in just a few hours I’ll have my chance!” - - - - - CHAPTER XI - THE CAPTAIN - - -It was the end of the fourth inning, and Camp Shawnee had players on -second and third with two out. The eager boys were on their toes, taking -long leads and praying that Widelle, at bat, would bring them in with -one of his famous sky-high clouts. - -Lefty wound up and delivered a whistling curve that landed in Gil -Shelton’s mitt with a satisfying smack. - -“Strike two!” called Judge Kinney of Elmville, umpire for the day. The -boys of Camp Lenape, grouped along the sidelines of the Shawnee diamond, -raised a cheer of praise for their pitcher’s prowess. - -Widelle, who wore on his jersey the red arrow-head insignia of Lenape’s -rival camp, shifted his bat slightly and set himself, ready for what -might prove the final toss of the inning. - -“You got him measured for a homer!” Captain Hook Bollard was encouraging -his team-mate with loud yells. “Take it on the nose!” He, as well as the -two hundred other spectators, invader and defender alike, held his -breath as Lefty uncorked a fast one. More than one person in the stands -didn’t see that ball coming. But Widelle saw it; moreover, he connected. - -“Zowie!” shrieked Bollard. “Go it, Widdy! A love-ly skyscraper!” - -It was a perfect hit; a bit too lofty for security, but nevertheless -pretty. Two hundred pairs of eyes watched the horsehide sphere climb -over left field, then drop with increasing speed toward the earth. -Widelle was nearing first, and already had his eye on second. The man on -third was trotting confidently toward the home plate. But no one saw -them. Lenape and Shawnee eyes were fastened on that descending ball; and -now they were aware of a lithe figure in a tailored baseball suit, -streaking backwards with head tilted to avoid the afternoon sun. Back, -back the figure raced; a sudden daring leap, a slap as leather hit -leather. - -“He dropped it!” howled Bollard. The Lenape ranks groaned as the fielder -fell sprawling; but the groan changed to unbelieving cries as they saw -that one arm was still raised aloft, and a hand still clutched the fatal -sphere! The fielder was on his feet again, slamming a long, easy toss to -Brick Ryan at first. Brick touched the bag, and the Lenape team trooped -in to take their turn at bat. - -“That was Van Horn! Boy, what a catch!” - -“Yay, Van! Pretty stuff, old kid!” - -Dirk trotted toward the bench, and the cheers of his fellow campers -grew. He tried to put on a modest, matter-of-fact look, but he could not -hold back a confident grin. The Chief was there; he must have seen that -catch, and the least he could do would be to sign his card for -inter-camp athletics. Now, he would come to bat this inning, and then -he’d show these kids some real prep-school league hitting—— - -He felt his arm seized roughly, and a voice, low yet angry, rasped in -his ear. - -“Say, Van Horn, there’s eight other guys on this team!” - -Dirk wheeled. It was Lefty Reardon who spoke, and his face was ominous. - -“Why, what do you mean by that?” Dirk asked. - -“You know what I mean! With the score three to one against us, why do -you have to go playing tiddley-winks to the grandstand? Another pass -like that, and you’ll be holding down the job of water-boy for this -team!” - -“What was the matter with that play?” grumbled Van Horn sulkily. “They -went out, didn’t they?” - -“What was the matter? Everything! These kids here in the cheering -section thought you were a regular daredevil, but I know better! Try -that stunt again and you’ll get a rain-check instead of a bouquet. Talk -about playing to the gallery! That was an easy catch—but you had to make -it look like hero stuff. And taking all those chances, falling down and -so on, just to look like the bozo that saved the day! Well, Terry -Tompkins ain’t got a swelled head, and if you don’t button up quick, -you’ll be benching for the rest of the season. And I’m saying it!” - -He turned away, leaving Dirk with a flaming face. Suppose he had made -that catch seem a bit harder—what was the harm? He really had stumbled, -but there had been no danger of dropping the ball. What right had -Reardon to call him a swell-head, just because——? But secretly, Dirk -knew that Lefty had spoken justly. - -With burning cheeks, he watched Soapy Mullins fan out. Brick Ryan, after -tipping two fouls, was allowed to walk. Ken Haviland stalled, taking two -strikes while Brick stole second, and outguessed on a fast inshoot, -dropped his bat as the umpire called him out. - -“Wake up, you fielder!” Lefty was calling. Dirk realized that he was -next. - -A little chill chased itself up his spine as he grabbed his own bat and -hurried to the plate. But as he stepped up and faced Bollard’s wind-up, -all his nervousness left him. He’d show these kids—and Lefty Reardon in -particular—that he could save their old ball-game yet. He knew he was -good. He knew he was going to hit. - -“Ball one!” - -He hadn’t moved. Bollard was worried, and he kept a wary eye on Brick, -who was fully prepared to steal to third at an instant’s notice. The -Lenape boys set up a roar. - -“He’ll walk you, Van! Let him do it!” advised Captain Reardon. - -Dirk’s face did not show that he had heard. He was out after a hit. He -let the next one go by, and waited for a good one. It came. - -Sock! He had placed it just right, a red-hot cannonball that went -through shortstop like a rocket. Dirk’s cleats spurned the dusty track -that led to first base. - -Behind him rose the shrieks of Lenape and Shawnee. Among them he thought -he heard the voice of Lefty Reardon, but he gave it not a thought. That -swat was good for a two-bagger or nothing. He tapped first with his toe, -and streaked for second. The shouts grew louder, but there was nobody in -his path. Evidently the fielder was still tangled up in his own feet. -Maybe a three-bagger——? Dirk leaped on second base, shook the sweat out -of his eyes, and looked ahead. - -There was a knot of players at third, and one of them must have the -ball. Another was on the ground—— Why, it was Brick Ryan! Dirk had -forgotten all about Brick; but there he was, with one arm stretched out, -just touching the bag. Another boy, a Shawnee baseman, was crouched at -his side, while above them stood a man who, as Dirk watched, shouted -“Safe!” It was the field umpire. - -Remorse showered on Dirk like a torrent. Brick had made it, but only -because he was a top-notch player; while he, Dirk, had been to blame for -the worst fool stunt in his baseball career. He could feel Lefty -Reardon’s despairing eye on him, and could imagine what the captain was -thinking. “Grandstand stuff again!” Van Horn, thinking only of himself -and his own glory, had made a two-bagger, but had forced Ryan into a -tight fix at third; it was only a matter of an instant’s decision that -had saved the Lenape team from missing their big chance to score. - -For half a minute, Dirk was rattled. The knot at third base broke up; -the boys resumed their places, and Brick, grinning, rose and dusted his -trousers while keeping an eye on Bollard, who strolled back into the -box. The Shawnee team was now on the defensive; the pitcher had two men -to watch, and Megaro was up—Megaro, the heaviest slugger on the Lenape -side. - -“I won’t quit!” Dirk swore under his breath. “It was a fool trick—but -I’ve got to play it through!” He took his eyes from Reardon, at the -bench, and watched the pitcher. Bollard put across two wild throws, and -Megaro tipped a foul. Dirk took a wary lead, and Brick Ryan did the -same. - -A roar from two hundred throats sounded from the watching crowd. Crack! -When the dust lifted, Megaro was safe at first; Brick Ryan was clear of -home plate and Dirk Van Horn stretched over that same plate with the -umpire’s cry in his ears: “Safe by a mile!” He had slid for the tying -run almost on Ryan’s heels. - -But there was no joy for Dirk in the rousing applause of the watchers. -From the tail of his eye, he saw Lefty approaching, and knew what was -coming. - -“All right, Captain,” he said humbly; “you can take me out now.” - -Brick Ryan put in a word. “Let him alone, Lefty! You know those things -happen.” - -“Never mind, Brick,” snapped Reardon. “It was only luck you got out of -it, and I already warned him. He’s done. Tompkins will play left field -for the rest of this game.” - -“Aw, don’t you see he cleared himself? We made two runs, and that ought -to make you happier, Lefty. Gollies sakes, it’s all in a ball game——” - -“Thanks, Ryan, old chap—you’re white about it, but Lefty’s right,” -admitted Dirk. “I forced you, just to show off. Maybe some day,” he -ended miserably, “I’ll learn how to play on a team.” - -Many a curious glance followed him as he pushed through the admiring -bunch of Lenape boys who clustered on the sidelines; but Ollie Steffins -was at bat, and the invading campers, thirsting for more rapid-action -runs, did not notice him as he headed behind the tent-houses that ringed -the Shawnee diamond. He passed the lodge overlooking the brown waters of -Iron Lake, and started down the road by which the hikers had marched -that morning into the rival encampment. There were still two innings to -play, but Dirk Van Horn did not want to see the end of that game. Camp -Lenape was ten miles away, and he must hike. He went on his way; and as -he went, he thought.... - -That night there was jubilation in Camp Lenape. Hated Shawnee had been -taught a lesson on the diamond, by the slender margin of one run made in -the last inning by Blackie Thorne. There were comments at the supper -table, however, upon the sportsmanship and hospitality of the defeated -camp, who had taken their defeat in good nature, and in parting had -promised vengeance at the next inter-camp tilt. Tired hikers ate like -wolves, assuring each other between mouthfuls that it had been a swell -day. - -Dishes had to be washed. At Tent One table, Lefty and Eddie Scolter were -due for this detail. The latter, however, could hardly keep his eyes -open—the long hike, the swim in Iron Lake, and the excitements of the -day’s visit at Shawnee had been almost too much for the small lad. He -nodded gratefully when Dirk Van Horn offered to take his place. Sax -McNulty raised his eyebrows at this generosity, but made no remark. - -Lefty busied himself with a broom and piled the dishes while Dirk mixed -up suds in the pan. It was Lefty who spoke first. - -“I got a bit heated up this afternoon,” he confessed casually. “Hope you -didn’t take me too seriously, Van. Sometimes, when a guy is captain of a -team, he has to say things and do things he doesn’t like.” - -Dirk nodded. - -“I’m sorry if you’re sore about it,” the aide went on. “Brick Ryan was -taking your part, on the way home, and darned if he didn’t convince me -that I was wrong in bawling you out the way I did.” - -“I am sore,” admitted Dirk; “but at myself, not at you. You were quite -right to kick me out. It’s—it’s not easy to say it, but I’m pretty much -of a swell-head any way you put it. Will you do me a favor, Reardon?” - -“Sure.” - -“Well, next time you see me getting ready to do any more stunts like -that, will you oblige me by a swift kick in the seat of my pants?” - -Lefty laughed. “I will! Now, I want to ask you something. You want to go -on the Long Trail, don’t you?” - -The blond boy stared and almost dropped a dish on the floor. “How did -you know?” - -“Oh, I can see! But the Long Trail is a pretty stiff proposition. What -makes you think you can tackle it?” - -“It’s just a crazy hope. But the Chief said there was a slim chance, and -I want to go more than I ever wanted to do anything.” - -“You’re right—it’s worth working for, I’ll say! So now you’ve given up -bunk-stretching and are going full speed ahead on your emblem and -winning ball-games and thinking of the other fellow first—— Well, I’m -here to say I’ll help you all I can, and any other older camper will do -the same! Now, what things do you still have to do to get your emblem?” - - - - - CHAPTER XII - THE MYSTERIOUS WATCHER - - -Dirk pushed back his unruly hair, pulled a sheet of paper from the -roller of his portable typewriter, and read what he had just written. - - “Camp Lenape, Thursday. - - “Dear Dad: - - “I am writing this to you especially because I want to thank you for - sending me up here to Camp Lenape. I must admit that at first I didn’t - seem to get over so well with the fellows, but that was all my own - fault, and now that everything is going fine, I can see why you wanted - me to spend my summer with such a swell bunch of campers and leaders. - My, the Chief must have been a great man to be friends with when you - were in college together! He has certainly been nice to me. - - “It would take a whole book to tell you all the things that have - happened to me since you and Mama left. We played baseball with a camp - named Shawnee, and beat them. I was fielding for a while, but got - kicked out of the game in the middle because of a fool stunt, so I - didn’t help the team any. You met the captain—Lefty Reardon, a - splendid pitcher that I wish we had on our prep-school squad. He’s - just one of the chaps in my tent—all of them are awfully lively and - full of fun. I had a fight with a kid named Brick Ryan, but now we’re - good friends. He’s a red-headed kid in our tent. Mr. McNulty, our - leader, looks gloomy all the time but that is just his way, and the - things he says would make you die laughing. He plays the sax, so they - all call him Sax. He’s our councilor. - - “I’ll bet you would be surprised if you knew all the things I learned - about stars and flowers and boats and things. One of the kids tried to - fool me and say that one tree was a castor oil tree that the castor - oil came from, but I guess I’m not so green as to believe that, - though. I’m learning to swim some, and Brick Ryan is showing me about - diving into the water head first. He’s got what they call a Lenape - honor emblem, which you can get for your jersey if you know a lot of - camp things. - - “We have to work hard here to keep the tent clean and get merit points - to win a pennant every day to show which is the best tent. The first - day I didn’t clean up enough and we got the ‘booby can’ that we had to - hang up with ‘booby’ written on it. Each of us has to be waiter and - wash dishes, but that’s fun too, like seeing if you can get ‘seconds’ - on meat and potatoes when you’re the waiter. Tell Mama not to bother - sending up all that candy and cake and stuff I asked for, because - Wally Rawn, the swimming coach, says it’s bad to eat a lot of junk - between meals all the time. I have to be in training now, because I - want to learn to swim good. - - “Now for the big news. The Chief told me that if I got my honor emblem - all done and know everything by Sunday night, he will ask Mr. Carrigan - to take me on the Long Trail. The Long Trail is a swell trip up the - river and a hike through the woods and up a mountain, and I want to go - if I can, so if the Chief will let me, say you won’t mind! I guess - it’s quite exciting, because everybody wants to go, but only six can - go every year, and if I go that will be seven. One of the fellows that - is going is Brick Ryan. Reardon went last year, and he says you can - catch bass fish and you take along a flag and nail it to a tree on top - of the mountain. ‘Sax’ went once and a bear chased his canoe-mate, but - don’t tell Mama that part or she will worry. But Mr. Carrigan is quite - a woodsman and knows all about nature and things, although to look at - him you wouldn’t think so, because he looks sort of funny and has a - big nose. He knows all about bears. I can take along the canoe you - gave me, the _Sachem_. The other fellows are Steve Link and a fellow - we call ‘Spaghetti’ because his name is Megaro and he’s Italian, and - Wild Willie Sanders and Ugly Brown and a fellow named Cowboy Platt who - comes from Arizona where the cowboys come from. Ugly Brown is smaller - than I am, but he knows a lot about the woods. Before we go we have to - pass a physical examination but I never felt better in my life because - I’m in training. - - “Today I am being the tent aide. That is a rather important job, as - you see it means you have to be a sort of assistant to the leader and - keep all the fellows on their toes doing the right things, and yet do - it without being bossy or mean. Lefty is the regular aide, but he let - me do it to try for one part of my honor emblem. I still have lots of - tests to pass for it yet. ‘Gollies,’ as my friend Brick Ryan would - say, I sure hope that I don’t miss out and can’t finish it all by - Sunday, for then I wouldn’t dare ask the Chief to let me go on the - Long Trail. - - “Well, I must get busy now and do some more things, but don’t forget - that I’m to go to Mt. Kinnecut with the long trailers, and that if the - Chief gives his permission, you will too. You can explain things to - Mama, but don’t mention the bears. - - “Your affectionate son, - “Dirk van Horn.” - -The writer surveyed this composition thoughtfully, scratched his ear, -and replacing the page in the machine, added a brief paragraph. - - “P.S. Tell Mama not to worry about getting my feet wet. I haven’t - taken any of those pills for several days, but I thought it over and I - think that anybody that feels as good as I do doesn’t need any pills. - I’m getting nice and tan like a sailor.” - -Slipping his letter into an envelope addressed to “Mr. John T. Van Horn, -President, Commerce National Bank,” Dirk stuck on a stamp and his -missive was ready for the mail. He had just stepped outside the tent -when he caught sight of Brick Ryan, lugging a sack on his shoulders and -making his way down the hillside at a fast pace. - -“Hi, Brick!” Dirk hailed him. “Say, wait for a chap! Is that the -mail-bag you have?” - -Brick halted and nodded. “Long Jim gave me the chance to take it down to -Heaven for him today. He’s busy at the store.” - -“Well, here’s a letter I want to go in, special.” He caught up to his -red-headed tent-mate and slipped his letter into the top of the canvas -sack. Brick grunted. - -“Everybody must be writing to their mamas and sweethearts today, all -right. Gollies, what a hefty load! Say, Van, do you want to go along and -help row the boat? Give you some practice.” - -“Could I?” Dirk became reflective. “I’m supposed to be acting as aide -today, but maybe I can go. I sure would like to help. I tell you—you go -on down, and if I can get away, I’ll be down to the dock in a jiffy.” - -They parted, and Dirk raced to the lodge, where he found his councilor -practicing with the camp orchestra in preparation for a vaudeville show -that was on the program for the following night. Securing his ready -permission to assist the mail-carrier of the day, Dirk cut through the -trees below the tents and reached the dock almost as soon as the -burdened Brick arrived. - -Selecting a steel-bottomed rowboat from among those moored in the lee of -the diving tower, the two boys pushed off on the waters of Lake Lenape. -Dirk, amidships, took the unwieldy oars and with unskilled motions began -sculling in the direction of the north end of the lake, where a landing -jutted from the weedy shore, beyond which faintly showed the roof of -Heaven House, the little cottage that was used for the accommodation of -parents and guests who visited the mountain camp. - -They had gone only a few hundred yards when Brick, lounging easily on -the stern-sheets with the mail sack between his knees, made an offer. - -“Say, my lad, how would you like to see some baby kingfishers?” - -“Fine!” answered Van Horn. “Where are they?” - -“Well, cut over a few points toward the shore, and we’ll just stop in up -the creek a ways. They have their nest in a hollow stump. We’ve got -plenty of time to take a look, if we hurry.” - -Dirk pulled on his oars with renewed vigor, and the boat headed toward -the reed-masked inlet of the marshy creek that cut into the camp side of -the lake. He was already getting the knack of handling the little craft -with greater ease, so that they slipped softly under an overhanging -maple branch and entered the weed-bordered reach of water without a -splash. - -“That’s right!” whispered Brick. “Keep quiet, or you’ll scare ’em. Say! -Who’s that guy?” He pointed. - -Dirk clumsily shipped his oars, and at the sound a man on a little -hillock above them wheeled sharply and stared, at the same time whipping -one hand behind his back. The keel of the boat grated on the shore, -barely missing a slender bamboo fishing rod that lay there neglected. - -The man ran toward them. - -“Sorry, sir!” cried Dirk cheerily. “We seem to have spoiled your fishing -for you.” - -The stranger did not return his smile. He stared for a second, then -queerly enough, exclaimed: “Why, if it ain’t young Van Horn!” - -For a space there was silence, except for the resounding thuds of axes -on wood and the far shouts of boys toward the head of the creek where, -Dirk recalled, a woodcraft squad was building a bridge of birch-trunks. -He surveyed the unknown fisherman. The man was short and slender; and -his dress was poorly adapted to the waterside, for he wore a suit of -creased and dusty serge, and thin-soled, pointed low shoes. A cloth cap -was pulled down over his pale face, almost hiding a pair of the -steeliest blue eyes Dirk had ever seen, that stared at him coldly all -the while as the man stood, hands behind back, biting his lip as if he -would have cut short his surprising cry of recognition. - -Brick Ryan had all this time spoken no word. Finally Dirk broke the -uncomfortable silence. - -“How did you know my name?” - -The man hesitated. “Why—I guess everybody knows by sight a famous kid -like you. I thought I was right. Your old man’s the banker, ain’t he? -Say,” he went on more easily, “how would you and your smart-lookin’ -partner there like to take a little joy-ride around the country with me -for half an hour or so? I got a little car over by the road, and you can -drive a ways if you want to.” - -Such an offer a few days previously might well have tempted Dirk’s -adventurous instincts; but he remembered that he and Brick were charged -with a mission to perform. - -“That’s nice of you, especially since we upset your fishing here,” he -returned; “but Brick and I have to take care of the mail. Besides, we -don’t leave the camp without permission.” - -“Yeah, let’s beat it,” put in Brick, shoving the oars into the rowlocks. - -Dirk nodded, and began backing water. The man made a quick step toward -them, and his right arm jerked impulsively; but he made no effort to -detain them. He stood gazing at them with his cold blue eyes until they -vanished again beyond the leafy screen that hid the entrance to the -creek. - -Once more heading across the lake toward Heaven House, all thoughts of -kingfishers’ nests forgotten, Brick spoke reflectively. - -“There’s something funny about that bird,” he began. “Ever seen him -before, Van?” - -“Why, not that I remember. Funny he knew my name. I guess we spoiled his -fishing—too bad.” - -Brick snorted. “Haven’t you got eyes? He’s no fisherman—not in that -outfit. His rod didn’t even have bait on the line, and besides, any sap -would know that there’s no fish in that part of the creek.” - -“Well, then, what was he doing?” - -“He was spyin’, that’s what!” the red-haired boy exploded. “Spyin’ on -the camp, or I’m a monkey’s uncle! I guess you didn’t notice when we -first saw him, but he was standin’ there on the hill, lookin’ through -the trees with a pair of field glasses, straight at the lodge! He’s -after no good, if you ask me!” - -“Why, Brick, are you sure?” - -“Sure, I’m sure! What I want to know is, what’s his game? ‘Let me take -you for a joy-ride,’ he says. Huh!” Brick spat into the rippling wake of -the boat. - -Dirk pulled thoughtfully at the oars. They were now nearing the wharf -that was their goal. - -“It’s puzzling, all right. But I still think you’re too suspicious, -Brick.” Nevertheless, he was not altogether sure that Ryan’s distrust -was wholly without grounds, and he could not rid himself of the feeling -that he had somewhere before seen that pale grim face and frosty eyes. - -The two boys tied their craft at the end of the jutting wharf, hauled -the mail-sack ashore, and between them carried it up the path to Heaven -House. The little cottage was empty at that time, but the flower garden -in front was carefully weeded and tended. As they reached the gate, a -cloud of dust bearing up the Elmville road told them that they had -delivered their burden with little time to spare. - -The rattling flivver that served the rural route drew up before them -with a screeching of brakes, and Lem Shuttle, the driver, took off his -straw hat and wiped his bald head. - -“That there the camp mail, boys?” he asked. “Hot today, bean’t it? Got a -mighty heap of letters for ye to take back, and a couple parcels.” - -Brick heaved the sack into the rear seat of the rattletrap car. “Say, -Lem,” he said, “we just saw a strange guy fishin’ down by the creek. -Know who he is? Wearin’ a blue suit, and doesn’t know much about how to -catch fish.” - -Lem scratched one ear. “Heard tell of him as I come along. Peaked kind -of little feller, eh? Yep, he drove up to the Petties last night in a -blue sedan, and they took him in to board. Give his name as Brown or -McGillicuddy or Harkins or some such. Claimed he wanted to do a bit of -fishin’.” - -“Well, he was tryin’ to catch ’em without any bait on his hook. Down by -the creek, too.” - -The mail-carrier chuckled. “Don’t surprise me a mite, now! Them city -folk is all of ’em crazy as coots! Most of ’em don’t know oxen from -buttercups! Wal, got to be goin’.” He tossed out the sack of incoming -mail, released the brakes, and stepped on the gas. “Giddap, Napoleon!” - -The boys watched him as he careened off down the dusty road. Brick Ryan -nodded reflectively. - -“H’mm! He wants to catch some fish, so he takes along a pair of field -glasses to see ’em with! Stayin’ up at the Pettie house. Well, Van, old -oyster, I’ll bet you this won’t be the last time we see Mr. Nosey -Fisherman, or my name’s not F. X. A. Ryan!” - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - ON THE MARCH - - -The mysterious fisherman, none the less, was pushed out of Dirk’s mind -by the crowded hours of the camp routine. There were still half a dozen -blank spaces on the emblem card that pointed his way to the Long Trail; -and as the end of the week drew near, he was in a fever of excitement, -wondering if ever he would complete all the needful tests in time. - -His day of service as aide to Tent One was finished without mishap; and -late the same afternoon he managed, after scorching a pan of rice and -burning his fingers, to produce an edible meal cooked over an open fire -built by himself. On Friday morning he rose before Reveille and in -company with Long Jim Avery and Nig Jackson penetrated silently into the -dewy woods, noting the plumage and song of many birds that Long Jim -pointed out to the interested boys. At the performance that evening of -the Lenape Vode-Villians on the improvised stage in the lodge, he won -applause with a short act entitled “A Wee Drop of Scotch.” In golf sox, -a kilt made of a plaid blanket, and a tam-o’-shanter, he sang several -songs of Scotland and cracked all the jokes he knew about the canny -race, marking his points with a crooked and knobbed cane cut from one of -Farmer Podgett’s apple trees. - -One by one the blank spaces on the card were filled in by the initials -of some councilor. On Saturday afternoon Dirk, after helping Jim Avery -after lunch at the store, raced to the boat dock and took his final -swimming test, diving into the water head-first as Brick Ryan had taught -him, and rounding a life-boat stationed fifty yards out, in all handling -himself so neatly that he won a nod from Wally Rawn and a promise to be -allowed to help keep the score in the inter-tent Boat Regatta that -afternoon. - -Dirk arose at dawn on Sunday morning, when around him all the camp was -asleep. He shivered as he looked into the misty drizzle that fell among -the pines; but screwing up his resolution, threw off the warm blankets -and slipped into his heavier clothing and high laced boots. His -woodcraft exhibit, a rustic birchwood bench circling the wild-cherry -tree beyond the lodge, was still uncompleted; and his skill at axmanship -was far from great. He sighed as he shouldered his hand ax and went -through the dripping woods to a grove of birches beyond the Council -Ring; but the work warmed him in short order, and he was soon whistling -as he trimmed the smooth white saplings and split them for his purpose. - -It still lacked half an hour to Reveille—which always came later on -Sundays—when Dirk stepped back from his work at the base of the cherry -tree, and surveyed his progress. The little bench needed only a few more -slats in the seat to be completed and ready for the use of all campers; -the braces were as steady as Dirk could make them, each sunk some inches -into the ground and set with wedged rocks. The boy stood sucking his -thumb, which had received a blow of his ax-head instead of the nail at -which he had aimed; and thus he was unaware that the Chief had -approached in his silent fashion and was at his elbow. - -The Chief’s face was as unreadable as ever as he nodded in answer to -Dirk’s “Good morning!” merely striding to the bench and testing it with -his weight. Sitting there, he gazed at the eager lad and smiled gravely. - -“A good bench,” he said, and paused. Then: - -“Dirk, you’ve been working mighty hard on your emblem, haven’t you?” - -“I only have two more things to finish, sir.” - -“H’mm. Dirk, what would you say if I told you that, even if you finished -these two things, you couldn’t go on the Long Trail this year?” - -The boy’s face went white, and he gulped. - -“I—I’d say you know best about that sir,” but his lip trembled with -disappointment. - -The Chief, who had been watching him closely, laughed—rather cruelly, as -Dirk thought. - -“Let me see your emblem card.” He took it from Dirk’s hand, and pointed -to the thirteenth item. “It says here that any boy winning the Lenape -honor emblem must show at all times the finest spirit as an all-round -camper. Well, any boy who can answer me as you have just done——Look -there!” - -He pointed behind the lodge, where a large hay-wagon pulled by two -horses came into sight, sweeping toward the road leading up the -mountain. Upon it were securely lashed three canoes—and on top, gleaming -red, was the _Sachem_. The _Sachem_! - -The Chief was scrawling his initials on the two empty spaces of the -card. Dirk let out a whoop like an Iroquois on the warpath. - -“I’m going, Chief!” he cried. “You mean it! I’m going on the Long -Trail!” - -“It looks that way. Last night I got an answer from my telegram to your -father. He’s given his permission for you to join Sagamore Carrigan’s -trailers. You still have much to learn, Dirk, but with this new spirit -of yours, I think you’ll win out!” He clasped hands with the dancing -boy. - -At breakfast, Mr. Carrigan ordered that all Long Trailers report to him -immediately to have their outfits inspected, and to receive -instructions. Within fifteen minutes Dirk and Brick Ryan had carried -several armloads of belongings up to the lodge porch and stacked them -alongside of the kits of their five comrades who had been chosen to bear -the Lenape flag. Cowboy Platt, lounging at the rail, opened his eyes -wide as he took in the heap of things that Dirk had thought necessary to -bring. - -“You shore must be goin’ to take a pack-hoss along to tote all that,” he -remarked in his sleepy drawl. “Wait till old Wise-Tongue sees that pile, -pardner!” - -Sure enough, when Mr. Carrigan arrived a few minutes later, his first -words were on the necessity of “travelling light.” - -“We’re going Indian fashion,” he began, “and since each one of you will -have to carry all your outfit on your back, we must take only the things -that we cannot do without. Now, Dirk, suppose that when we come to the -first portage, you have to pack all those clothes and shoes and that big -flash-lantern, as well as your blankets and your end of the canoe! Let’s -see what you can do without.” - -The councilor began laying aside only those belongings that would be -needed on the trip. When he had finished, Dirk found his kit reduced to -a sturdy hiking outfit of khaki shirt and breeches, puttees, and high -shoes, a change of underclothing, a warm sweater, and four pairs of -socks. In addition, he had for canoe-work a pair of shorts and light -shoepacks. Since two boys would sleep together, one large warm blanket -and rubber poncho apiece was adjudged sufficient, even though the -mountain nights would be cool. - -“I’m glad to see you have a pocket compass and a good knife,” concluded -Sagamore Carrigan. “I’ll take my large woodsman’s ax, and Sanders will -take his hand ax—that should be enough for the whole party. Cowboy Platt -here has offered to do all the cooking, if we take turns at K.P. I’ve -drawn from the kitchen only the grub that we can’t get along the way, -and we’ll save it for ‘iron rations’ in the back-country. Ellick also -gave me some pots and pans, but each trailer will have to take his own -cup and plate and fork. Before we leave tomorrow, I’ll have another -inspection and try to see that we don’t forget anything we need. Have -your blanket-rolls ready immediately after breakfast. Any questions -about outfits?” - -Spaghetti Megaro and young Brown had need of the councilor’s advice -about selecting certain of their garments. After he had given it, he -unrolled a large map and tacked it to the pine shingles of the lodge -wall, where all could see. - -“I want you trailers to get every line of this map into your minds,” he -urged. “Learn it so you could draw it blindfolded. It will be riding in -my pocket for the whole trip, and whenever any of you has a minute to -spare, study it. You can see that I’ve lined in the Long Trail in red -ink.” - -Dirk breathed faster as his eyes followed Sagamore Wise-Tongue’s -pointing finger. - -“Here’s Lenape, and way off here in the corner is old Mount Kinnecut, -where nine green-and-white pennants are flying. That’s where we’ve got -to go, and we’ll make it in three days, if all goes well. The first -day’s run—tomorrow—will be an easy stage, just to get in trim and harden -up. And see that your feet are in good shape, for that’s what you’ll -have to travel on most of the way. We’ll stop at Pot-Hole Glen at noon, -and make the river before dark. The canoes left on a wagon this morning, -and we’ll find them at Skinner’s Ferry when we get there. Now, I’ll -leave this map posted here for the rest of the day, so that you can get -its details clear in mind before we leave. Anything else?” - -“Yes, I got one!” put in Ugly Brown. “Who’s going to carry the flag?” - -Sagamore Wise-Tongue smiled, and drew from his blouse a triangular bit -of green bunting on which was stitched a large L in white. “The trailer -who carries this,” he said, “will have to be watchful and cunning, for -he will bear with him the honor of all of us, and the honor of Lenape. -I’ll leave it to you to choose which trailer it shall be.” - -Before anyone else could speak, Dirk cried out: “Brick Ryan! He’s the -best of us! Let it be Brick, sir!” - -“Sure,” agreed Megaro, “I bet you my life Brick is the one. I vote for -him too.” - -The others added their votes with shouts of approval; even Ugly Brown, -who secretly had hoped to be the standard-bearer, swallowed his -disappointment, and taking the banner, presented it to Ryan, whose face -grew almost as red as his flaming hair. - -“I’ll take it,” he muttered with some feeling; then, looking the leader -straight in the eye, added: “You can bet nobody is goin’ to get this -away from me, Wise-Tongue. It’s not goin’ to leave me until we nail it -to the flagpole on the big mountain over beyond!” - -With a cheer, the little council of war broke up. Brick stowed the -pennant inside his shirt. - -“Thanks, kid,” he mumbled. “That was swell of you to say that about me.” - -“I meant it, Brick! Say, will you show me how to make a blanket-roll?” - -The day passed swiftly for Dirk, eager as he was for the morning that -would mark the beginning of the Long Trail hike. He was kept busy -getting his outfit into shape and seeing that everything was in order; -but he found time now and again to study the map posted on the wall. The -names on it gave him a thrill that he could not have explained—Flint -Island, Lake Moosehorn, the Chain of Ponds, even the few scattered towns -that lay among the folds of the hills that skirted Mount Kinnecut. He -was a Long Trailer now! - -When dusk fell, and the whippoorwills could be heard trilling in the -thickets, the Lenape tribe draped their blankets about them and trooped -to council. There was no happier or prouder member of that tribe than -Dirk Van Horn when, at the time for awards and coups, he rose and was -given his honor emblem before the throne of the Chief. It seemed -impossible that little more than a week had passed since he had first -landed on the Lenape campus. So many wonderful things had happened that -he felt a different person from the—as he thought, looking -back—pitifully ignorant tenderfoot who had tried to buy Brick Ryan’s -friendship with an expensive gift. He had that friendship now, but he -had won it as a man should. - -He drifted off to sleep clutching his new honor, and when he awoke at -dawn, rose and sewed it carefully on the front of the sweater that he -would wear on the trail. Brick Ryan was astir too, dressing in his worn -hiking clothes and rolling his blankets into a neat pack to be strapped -over his shoulders. He winked over at Dirk and whispered: “The pennant -is still safe, by gollies! I pinned it to my pajama shirt with a big -blanket-pin!” - -The eight trailers were off up the mountainside before nine o’clock, -after a brief but thorough inspection by their leader. They travelled in -close marching order, for as Sagamore Wise-Tongue explained, they were -like a war-party and must not lose their strength through straggling or -getting out of touch with each other. It might be necessary, when they -were in wilder country, to put out scouts, but since the road to Indian -Glen was well known to them, they would take it in regular stages. - -Although Dirk’s unaccustomed blanket-roll was heavy and grew heavier as -the morning wore on, his heart was light. He joined in the songs of the -gay trailers as they threaded their way through the trees on the slope -above camp, pausing as they reached the road at Fiddler’s Elbow and -taking a last glance at the placid waters of the lake and the white -tents they were leaving behind. Dirk laughed aloud as he thought of all -the adventures he would have before he again caught sight of Camp -Lenape. But had he guessed that his life would be more than once in wild -danger on the path that lay before him, he might well have shivered -instead. - -Up and down, over one ridge after another of the Lenape range, the boys -took their way, resting now and then for a few moments in the shade -beside some bubbling mountain spring. Mr. Carrigan, in the lead, bearing -a first-aid kit and many other necessities in the knapsack over which -his blankets were strapped, strode along silently, ever on the alert for -some wilderness creature that he might point out to his eager followers. -Once he pointed out the marks of a fox, and several times their progress -stirred up a covey of stupid, drumming partridge. And in one breathless -instant, before they came to the end of the forest, he paused and -pointed through the trees. Dirk caught a glimpse of a swift-moving -dun-colored animal that with a flick of its stubby tail was off in long -easy leaps to the shelter of the far thickets—a young deer, the first he -had ever seen in its native haunts. - -He marched beside Brick and Ugly Brown, the young, snub-nosed lad whose -blunt, sun-burnt face was somewhat likable in its very ugliness. He -remembered that these two, with Kipper Dabney, had hazed him one -moonlight night—long ago, it seemed—but he made no mention to them of -that night when he had leaped, blindfolded, over Indian Cliff. - -“What’s this Glen like that we’re heading for, Ugly?” Dirk asked. - -“Ain’t you ever been there? Say, it’s a swell place. We hike over here -lots of times. Whillikers, I’m ready for a swim there right now, even if -the water feels as if it had just melted from snow. It’s called Pot-Hole -Glen because down below, the water has run across the rocks so fast that -there are a bunch of deep, smooth holes worn down by pebbles whirlin’ -around—right through solid rock. It used to be an old Indian camping -place, I’ve heard. We’ll be there soon, right after we cut across the -fields over yonder.” - -At that moment Mr. Carrigan turned off the dusty road and cut through a -meadow where a herd of white-faced cows grazed. Dirk climbed the rail -fence slowly, for he was hot and more than a little tired by the march; -but he joined in the whoops of his companions as they raced the short -distance that separated them from the goal of their noonday pause and -the swim that was to come. And thus Dirk Van Horn came to Pot-Hole Glen, -which he was never in his life to remember without a chill of horror -creeping up his spine—the horror of strangling death. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - THE WATCHER AGAIN - - -The little plateau above the Glen was a pleasant place enough—a smooth, -shadowy stretch of greensward marked here and there with the remains of -more than one Lenape campfire. Here the trailers paused only long enough -to cast off their blanket-packs, and then raced in a body for the steep, -twining path leading down the wall carved out in past ages by the -running stream at its foot. - -“Now for a swim!” was the cry as, helter-skelter, the boys scrambled -down the path that zigzagged through the underbrush. - -Dirk paused at the bottom of the cleft, and falling slightly behind the -others, searched for the pot-holes that Ugly Brown had described. There -they were—smooth shafts of varying widths, sunken into the rocky floor -over which the stream trickled softly. Taking a stick, Dirk probed one -of them, and found at the bottom a few water-worn stones whose action -had drilled, in the course of many decades, a deep hole in solid -granite. - -“The biggest hole of all is under the falls,” Brick Ryan shouted from -below him. “Come on, my son—all the other guys are gettin’ wet already!” - -He disappeared from sight at a turn in the path leading down-stream, -from whence Dirk could hear the boisterous shouts of his comrades rising -above the splashing roar of falling water. None the less, he did not -hasten, for the wonders of the Glen were too many to be hastily passed -over. - -He walked slowly, gazing at the many-colored flowers and unknown trees -that arched the stream. Several hundred yards down, the path wound about -a steep drop over which the water boiled and bubbled—a miniature -Niagara. From his place, Dirk could look directly down into a seething -basin hollowed in the rock. Below this fell away the bed of the stream -in an incline of sheeted, mossy shale, upon which sprawled the naked -forms of the trailers. Wild Willie Sanders, with ear-splitting yells, -was coasting down the slide head first, and landed in the broad pool -below like a noisy otter. - -Spray from the falls sprinkled Dirk’s face, and he hurried to strip off -his dusty garments and join in the fun. As he took his place on the -slide, the rills of water from the side of the falls were so icy that he -cried out. - -“Brr-r-r! Boy, talk about cold!” - -“Get warmed up swimming down here in the pool,” advised Sagamore -Carrigan, who was floating about in the crystal water beneath the slide. -“Then you won’t feel it!” - -Dirk watched Spaghetti Megaro, who was plunging a long pole into the -great pot-hole directly underneath the falls. The pole sank out of -sight, and shortly after shot into the air, to be caught by the Italian -lad. - -“That’s plenty deep, you bet!” grinned Megaro. “They call this one the -Devil’s Cauldron. Some shower-bath if you get in this tub! Once when I -was here, Wally Rawn got in and tried to dive down to bottom—but he -didn’t find no bottom, not at all. He got out plenty quick.” - -Dirk hastily removed himself from the brink of the treacherous-looking -hole, and joined the divers who plunged into the pebble-bottomed pool -below. The swim period was short, not only because the hikers were -hungry, but because the water was so chill that too long exposure might -be dangerous to health. After a brisk rub-down the trailers, glowing -with vim, donned their cast-off clothes and started for the plateau -above, where Cowboy Platt was already building a small cooking-fire for -the noonday meal. - -Lingering behind alone, Dirk dressed slowly, pausing now and then to -watch the flight of a bird, or to mark some strange formation of rock -along the walls of the Glen. At last he picked up his dripping towel and -started up the path to rejoin his friends. - -When he came once more to the bend directly above the falls, he paused -for a last look at the impressive sight. As he stared down at the racing -waters, a clump of star-shaped flowers on a tough-leafed bush caught his -eye. He had never seen such strange bright blossoms before, but Sagamore -Carrigan could tell him all about them. It struck him that it would be a -good thing to get some and take them with him to the others. - -Spreading his feet firmly on the slippery path, he reached down to -snatch the plant from its perch in a crevice in the rocky cliff. It was -too far. He knelt, and dropping one leg over to balance himself, made a -second attempt. Still the nodding flowers were a tantalizingly few -inches from the tips of his fingers. Tossing his head with annoyance, he -made a swift swoop. As his hand touched the fringe of the bush, he felt -the earth beneath his weight stir and slip. - -In sudden terror, he dropped the fragment of the bush and dug in the -toes of his heavy shoes, painfully trying to scramble back to safety. He -grunted with the effort; but inch by inch the treacherous loose dirt -gave way. A fearful glance over his shoulder, and he shut his eyes, -dizzied by the hissing rush of the leaping rapids beneath his kicking -legs. A rattle of stones; and then, with a despairing shriek, he plunged -backward into the foaming falls! - -The breath was knocked from his chest as he struck the seething surface -of the giant pot-hole—the Devil’s Cauldron! Down, down he sank, freezing -water filling his nose and open mouth and shutting off all chance of -summoning help. The sunshine was far above him, seen dimly through a -glassy green froth, and the roar of the rattling falls was drumming in -his ears. - -Desperately he kicked his leaden feet and fought his way upward, the -blood hammering in his veins. One outstretched arm caught at the -slippery edge of the hole and clung fiercely. - -Upon his unsheltered head, battering drops fell like hailstones. - -He had barely time to suck in a mouthful of air when the force of the -spinning current tore his handhold loose, and again he dropped into the -Cauldron’s depths. This time he felt weaker, chilled by the glacial -stream and beaten by its pounding force. It was dark now. Dimly he -wondered if they would ever find his body in that bottomless well.... - -An unseen hand was gripping him by the hair, hauling him upward toward -light and life. Again the bullets of water struck his face and throat, -but strong arms were about his shoulders. His chest scraped against the -jagged margin of the pool; like a sodden bag of meal, he was pulled out -of the clutch of that grim torrent. - -He gasped, spat, and rolled over on his back. Somewhere above him, a -bird was whistling. He opened one eye. Bending over him, with a serious -look on his freckled face, was Brick Ryan. - -“Are you alive, my lad? Gorries, say you’re all right!” - -Dirk choked, and tried to sit up, but fell back weakly. - -“I—I’m safe! It was horrible, down there——” - -“Now, don’t try to talk. Take it easy for a minute. There, that better? -Gee, you sure must have had a bad time of it! I was comin’ along down -the creek to see what was keepin’ you, and heard you yell.” - -“I was—trying to get some of those flowers up there, and slipped.” - -Above him, through his moist eyelashes, he saw the coveted blossoms -swaying slightly in the midday breeze. - -“Huh! Well, that’s called rhododendron, and it’s against the law to pick -it in this state! If you’re feelin’ better, I’ll help you up to camp, -and we’ll dry out your duds.” - -Fearing that delay might bring severe consequences, Dirk crawled to his -feet, and shivering in his sodden garments, allowed himself to be led -up-stream, leaning heavily upon the lad who had pulled him from that -deadly bath. At the foot of the path leading to the camping place, he -turned and faced his friend. - -“Brick,” he said soberly, “you’ve saved my life. I—I can’t put it in -words, but if ever there’s anything——” - -The red-haired boy grinned and patted his arm. “Forget it!” he muttered -gruffly. “You’d have done the same if it had been me.” - -“But all the same——” - -“Come on, old son, before you freeze to death. Climb, my lad!” - -At the summit, the rest of the trailers were lying about on their packs, -and there was a brisk smell of wood-smoke and frying bacon in the air. -Mr. Carrigan leaped to his feet as he saw the two boys, and without -asking for any explanation, had Dirk’s dripping garments stripped off in -short order, and after a rough rub-down he was stowed between a pair of -warm blankets and told to rest. - -Dirk had been living in the open for more than a week now, and long -before his wet clothes were dried before the fire, he felt none the -worse for the mishap that might so easily have taken his life. The -councilor brewed him a cup of warm, heartening soup that brought his -strength back quickly; and when an hour had passed he convinced the man -that he was himself again and ready to travel. - -“We don’t have far to go now,” announced Sagamore Carrigan. “It’s only a -couple miles to the river and Skinner’s Ferry, where the canoes are; and -from there we can paddle to Kittahannock Lodge in no time—that’s where -we stop for the night.” - -Once more the hikers put their blanket-rolls over their shoulders and -set out, following the dirt road that led westward from the Glen toward -the river. The councilor now had a hard time to keep them together, so -anxious were they to reach the ferry where the canoes waited for them; -but he held them to the same steady pace. Dirk was forced to admit to -himself that he was tired now, and he was glad when they crossed a stone -bridge over a creek and came in sight of the ferry. - -An unpainted, low frame building with a roof of “shakes,” or shingles -split with an ax, lay beside a rude wharf at which was moored a -flat-bottomed scow. Such was the ancient Skinner’s Ferry that dated back -to Revolutionary days. On the wharf lay the three Lenape canoes, ready -for their voyage into the wilderness. There was now no thought of -restraining the eager lads, and Dirk, with the rest, broke into a run -that ended on the narrow wharf. An old and bent ferryman came from the -house to announce that the equipment brought from camp on the wagon -awaited them within. - -Now began a busy half-hour of packing and launching the light craft. It -was settled that Dirk and Brick Ryan would handle the _Sachem_, in which -would be stowed the cooking outfit, rations, and odds and ends of camp -outfit, while the other members of the party divided into two crews of -three campers each to manage the _Red Fox_ and the _Whiffenpoof_. When -the equipment had all been stowed inside the rubber tarpaulins and -lashed firmly to the thwarts, so that it would not be wet or lost in -case of an upset, Dirk and his partner each took an end of their vessel -and dropped it overside into the sheltered water below the wharf. As -Dirk climbed into his place at the bow, he took care to make sure that -his first misadventure with his canoe at Lenape should not be repeated; -and in the wake of the other two craft, they shoved forth into the -stream, shouted a farewell to the bent ferryman, and began paddling -swiftly. - -Mr. Carrigan, in the stern of the _Red Fox_, led the way, with Megaro at -the bow paddle and Ugly Brown riding amidships. At a distance of a few -lengths followed the _Whiffenpoof_, carrying Cowboy Platt, Saunders, and -Steve Link. Dirk dipped and pulled his paddle in fast time, for their -course lay diagonally across the current, which at this place rippled -whitely over its stony bed. - -“Make for the point!” shouted the councilor. - -“That’s Kittahannock Lodge, where we sleep tonight!” - -Ahead the broad river made a turn, and at the bend a tall white flagpole -rose from a clump of trees, tinged with sunset gold. Dirk gave it a -glance, and bent to his straining task, while Brick fulfilled the -delicate job of keeping the light vessel on its path. On flew the -_Sachem_, as if glad to be afloat and bearing her owner farther and -farther toward the northern wilds. - -Once Dirk paused momentarily to catch his breath. He looked back to the -shore that they were leaving. A road wound along the edge of the river, -above the ferry, and along it crawled a small automobile with a plume of -dust rising behind it. Dirk saw it only for a moment before it -disappeared from sight behind a low hill. But he was sure, as he turned -again to his paddling, that the car was a blue sedan, and that he knew -the slight figure of the man that hunched over the wheel. It was the -mysterious fisherman they had surprised on the shore of Lake Lenape some -days before. - - - - - CHAPTER XV - THE TRAP ON FLINT ISLAND - - -Sagamore Carrigan and his trailers were greeted in hearty fashion by the -campers of Kittahannock Lodge, and the director, who each year was glad -to extend his hospitality to the Lenape Long Trailers, offered an empty -tent-house to the canoe party. He also invited them to supper at the -lodge, but when Mr. Carrigan explained that they had provisions with -them, assigned them a grassy spot above the river. Here, after they had -washed up in the camp bath-house, the trailers were drawn about the fire -by the aroma of Cowboy Platt’s cookery, and attacked with no little -gusto the meal he handed out. - -As soon as each man had washed his plate and fork, the trailers joined -in the campfire merriment of the Kittahannock tribe within the lodge of -hewn timber, on the walls of which were hung many examples of their -woodcraft skill and collections of natural objects. The band was a -lively and merry crowd, and the Lenape lads joined in the fun in -friendly spirit. Games and stunts passed the time until the call to -quarters sounded, and the eight hikers sought their cabin sleepily with -many thoughts of their exciting first day on the trail. - -Sagamore Carrigan yawned as he pulled his blankets over him and switched -off his flash-lantern. “Not many stars out,” he remarked; “and I didn’t -like the way the campfire smoke hung low in the chimney tonight. I -wouldn’t be at all surprised if we had a wet cruise tomorrow, fellows.” - -Dirk woke in the night to hear a splatter of drops on the roof of the -tent-house; and he fell asleep again thinking drowsily that the leader’s -words had come true. The next morning dawned mistily over a wet world, -and a swirling fog hung low over the river, shrouding the farther shore. -The gloomy weather, though, penetrated no deeper than the ponchos of the -Lenape boys, who after a warming breakfast, were afloat at an early -hour. In a mysterious silence they pushed off into the overhung waters -to continue their cruise up-stream, keeping close together so that no -canoe should be separated from the others in the fog. - -After an hour’s stiff paddling against the stubborn current, they saw -the sun shine through once or twice, and the fog cleared away. But it -was plain to be seen that the rain would continue steadily throughout -the day. Through the downpour, Dirk caught sight of the river banks, now -much closer together than they had been at Skinner’s Ferry. Shallow -rapids became much more frequent, and Brick in the stern had to exercise -unusual care to see that the _Sachem’s_ bottom was not ripped on some -jagged rock. - -Dirk, paddling doggedly with his arms thrust through the slits in his -rubber poncho, felt the muscles of his shoulders stiffening with the -unwonted labor; and he was happy when, in the middle of the morning, the -little fleet came into sight of the white houses of the small river town -of Port Jermyn. They tied up at the wharf where the main street of the -town ended, and strolled about through the rain-swept village while the -councilor, assisted by Steve Link, purchased the supplies that would be -their sole provisions until their return from the wilds into which they -were about to plunge. - -The stop at Port Jermyn, short as it was, refreshed the paddlers, and -Dirk found that he had gained his second wind. He still retained his -place in the bow, however, for he did not feel that he owned the skill -necessary to guide the _Sachem_ through the ever-increasing shallows of -the river above the town. Feeling that he had left civilization behind -for some time to come, he worked with a will, chewing a piece of -butterscotch and waiting patiently for the signal that would mean a halt -for the midday meal. - -Shortly after noon, Mr. Carrigan beckoned to the following canoeists to -turn off the main stream into the mouth of a wide creek flowing from the -west. A few hundred yards from the outlet, they turned their craft -toward the bank, and climbed out stiffly to stretch and gather dry wood -for a smoky fire built beneath the shielding branches of a large oak. -The canoes were turned on their sides, ponchos were taken off and -stretched on sticks above the openings, and within these snug shelters -the trailers lounged on their backs and lazily devoured heaping plates -of beans and bread and slightly damp cookies. - -“We-all are goin’ to fix some spaghetti for supper, in your honor, Wop!” -Cowboy Platt twitted Megaro. “How will you like that?” - -“O. K., I bet!” answered the Italian boy. “Say, maybe I catch some -bullheads in Lake Moosehorn, and if I get more than fifty, I give you -one to eat in your honor!” - -Dirk laughed, not because the joke was good, but because he was well fed -and warm and happy to be with such a game crowd of campers. Although the -rain might have dampened the holiday moods of many boys, not one of -these lads had uttered a word of complaint. Later that eventful day, -Dirk was to look back wistfully at that scene; for neither he nor Brick -Ryan was fated to partake of that contemplated meal of fish and -spaghetti on the shore of Lake Moosehorn. - -Refreshed and rested, the boys broke camp and prepared to leave the -broad river behind. Dirk recalled that this stream they were now -following must be the Sweetwater Creek shown on the map that Sagamore -Carrigan carried in his breast pocket. If so, it would lead to the first -of the Chain of Ponds, where the first portage would begin. - -His surmise was correct. Close together, their bows sometimes brushing -overhanging limbs of trees as they rounded a bend in the creek and a new -reach of rain-spattered water met the paddlers’ eyes, the three canoes -wended up-stream. On either side the walls of the forest closed in about -them, and in some places it was as gloomy as though it had been -nightfall instead of broad afternoon. Before two miles had slipped past -their dripping paddles, the creek ended in a rough dam of logs that -marked the outlet of the lowest of the ponds; and here was the first -portage. - -It was a short one, merely circling the dam and so to another launching -on the dark mirror-like water of the pond. The boys landed and hauled -their canoes ashore; then, without bothering to remove the contents, -they each seized an end and carried the craft up a narrow trail, -slippery with weeds and mud, to the edge of the pond. Once more afloat, -they pulled through the dripping rain in the rippling wake of the _Red -Fox_. Dirk, brushing the drops from his glistening face, wondered how -the leader could find his way through the winding passage. Reeds and -ugly, misshapen snags jutted upward from the murky, black bottom covered -with dead leaves, and somehow brought a chill to the boy in the canoe, -so close were they beneath his paddle. He wondered what would happen to -any daring soul that might try to swim in the dark forbidding water. - -Sagamore Carrigan knew his way, however, and unerringly came out at the -end where the next portage began. This was a long one, for these two -ponds were connected only by a swampy trickle that wound across hummocks -of mud. For half a mile the boys threaded through the ankle-deep muck; -and though the councilor sent Spaghetti Megaro back to bear a part of -the overburdened _Sachem_, Dirk was ready to call a halt before a third -of the way had been traversed. Gritting his teeth, he tried to forget -the cutting, swaying load pressing his aching shoulders, meanwhile -thanking his stars that his shoes were strong and waterproof. - -By the end of the afternoon all the trailers, although they would not -have admitted it under torture, were heartily sick of ponds and -portages. Everlastingly climbing in and out of the vessels, slipping and -sliding through an overgrown footpath with one end of a staunch canoe on -one’s shoulder and dripping branches catching at garments and whipping -into one’s face, all in a semi-darkness that depressed the heartiest -spirit—it seemed to all of them that they could not last out another -hour of this winding progress through the lowlands, when from the van -came Sagamore Wise-Tongue’s cheering cry: “Lake Moosehorn ahead!” - -The broad expanse of clear water uplifted the souls of all. Dirk, -feeling glad that reeds and snags and winding dark ponds were left -behind at last, threw himself on a grassy bank beside his canoe, -breathing a sigh of relief. It was late in the afternoon and the rain -had slackened to a filmy drizzle. Across from them loomed the hump of -Flint Island, while over the tree-clad summit of Mount Kinnecut toward -the west, the descending sun was bravely trying to show forth before -sinking into night. - -“We’ll be pitching camp inside an hour, men,” said the leader. “Our -headquarters will be at the old spot at the far end of the lake, up by -that tall dead spruce. From there we’ll have to use our feet instead of -our paddles, to make the summit of Kinnecut.” - -“Huh!” remarked Ugly Brown. “I’ve been usin’ my feet all day. I don’t -mind hikin’, if I don’t have to carry a canoe with me. Why, after today, -I’ll probably race up to the top of that little mountain tomorrow just -to get an appetite for breakfast!” - -“We’ll never even pitch camp before dark if you yearlings don’t stop -argufyin’ and get started,” drawled Cowboy. “I want lots of wood cut for -the fire, and somebody mentioned he was goin’ to hook some fish.” - -“Well, we’ll move along, then, and do our resting when we get to camp,” -said Mr. Carrigan. “It’s the old earth that will be your bed tonight, if -I don’t cut some spruce tips for mattresses—so let’s be on our way!” - -The _Red Fox_ and the _Whiffenpoof_ pushed out on the lake for the last -lap of the day’s long journey. - -“Well,” asked Brick Ryan, paddle in hand, “aren’t you goin’ to stir, my -son?” - -“I suppose so.” Dirk rose stiffly, and stretched. “Gollies, I hate to -move, though. I could go to sleep right now.” - -“Not here, my bucko.” The red-headed boy playfully prodded his -canoe-mate in the ribs. “Stir your stumps. Look, the other guys are -almost out of sight around Flint Island. Old Wise-Tongue is wavin’ for -us to come on.” - -The two foremost canoes vanished behind the bulk of the little island as -the _Sachem_ pushed out. - -“Steer over along the shore of the island, will you?” asked Dirk, after -a moment. “I thought I saw something moving in the bushes. It looked -like——See it? Why, it’s a man! And he’s waving to us! What do you -suppose he wants?” - -He quickened his stroke, and they pulled toward the rocky edge where the -waterline of the lake marked the island. A low, hoarse cry rose from the -twilight of the thickets. - -“Ay! Help me, you come help! I caught!” - -A man’s head was visible through a gap between the trees. The hair was -long and black, the skin dark, and the features that could be made out -were rugged and wild-looking. The voice was that of one in pain. - -“Why, it’s an Indian! Hurry, Brick—he’s hurt. Maybe a tree fell on him!” - -“Don’t you think you better take it slow till you know what’s up?” - -“Nonsense! He needs us right away. Here’s a good place to land.” Dirk -leaped ashore as he spoke, and ran to the spot where the Indian lay -moaning in his broken pidgin-English. - -As he approached, the man rose to his feet and leaped at the boy like a -wildcat. As the outstretched arms caught Dirk about the shoulders and -threw him backward, he realized, too late, what was happening. - -“Get away, Brick!” he screamed. “It’s a trick!” He fell on the rocky -ground, with the strange Indian upon him, holding his body so that he -could not move an inch, nor see what Brick was doing. - -“No, he won’t get away,” said a cruel, level voice. “And if you yelp -once more, young Van Horn, you’ll get a bullet in your noisy mouth!” - -Dirk felt the heavy body above him suddenly removed; the Indian was -rising to his feet. The boy staggered upward, and was again thrown to -the earth by a fierce thrust. - -“Lie there and cool off!” ordered the unseen. “Yes, I’ve got a gun on -you, and on your smart pal, too. Get out of that canoe quick, Red, if -you know what’s good for you.” - -“If you didn’t have that pistol on me,” muttered Brick Ryan savagely -through clenched teeth, “I’d—I’d——” - -“Enough of that!” - -At last Dirk made out the form of the man who, with the aid of the -rascally Indian, had trapped them. He felt only a dull throb of surprise -as he recognized him. Brick’s warning at Lake Lenape had been justified, -after all. The mysterious fisherman had tracked them down and caught -them alone at last. - -The man deliberately walked up to Brick, the gleaming nose of his pistol -showing in his right hand. With his left he thrust swiftly upward. There -was the sound of a blow against flesh, and Brick fell heavily upon the -pebbled shore. - -“Lie there, both of you. Now, Mink,” their captor addressed the Indian, -“dump that stuff out of their canoe and put it in ours. We need it more -than that dumb bunch of kids up the lake. Then tie up these two birds -tight, and dump them in too. We’ve got to get away before the ones up -ahead come back to see what’s wrong. Wish I could see their faces when -they find out!” - -“What—what are you going to do with us?” asked Dirk hoarsely. - -The stranger laughed unpleasantly. “You’ll find out soon enough, kid. -Ready, Mink? That’s good. Now, turn over that fancy red canoe and shove -it way out in the channel, so that when the main gang come back, they’ll -know for sure that these two wise little scouts are drowned to death and -sunk to the bottom of the lake!” - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - FIRE IN THE FOREST - - -Trussed with light rope like a pair of fowl ready for slaughter, the two -boys were lifted one by one in the Indian’s arms and laid in the bottom -of his dirty canoe. Neither could speak, for bandana handkerchiefs were -knotted tightly between their teeth, so that they had barely a chance to -breathe. They lay on the unyielding ribs of the craft, which apparently -leaked, for several inches of chilly water sloshed about beneath them -and ran down their necks, soaking their already damp clothing. - -The tarpaulin-wrapped bundle containing the provisions stolen from the -Lenape trailers was dumped next to their heads. The man with the pistol -crouched in the bow, his slicker thrown open, now that the rain had -stopped. His dark-skinned henchman, whom he had called Mink, cast -another glance at the _Sachem_, which was caught in the channel current -and, bottom upward, drifted toward the outlet. Then, seizing his paddle, -he pushed off the heavy-laden vessel and began paddling furiously toward -the far shore. - -Although they were effectively hidden from the eyes of any returning -Lenape canoeists as long as they kept the length of the island between -them, the two men kept a wary lookout until they gained the shelter of -the far shore, where the deepening twilight hid them from any -possibility of discovery. Dirk, squirming painfully in his bonds, could -see only the body of the muscular Mink above him, his moving head and -arms outlined against the purple sky, in which one star already gleamed. -He could hear Brick Ryan breathing heavily beside him, and bit at his -gag angrily, realizing that he could help neither his comrade nor -himself. If only he had departed with the other members of the party, -the two desperate men would not have had opportunity to snare them as -they had done. It had been all his own fault, Dirk condemned himself. If -only he had listened to Brick—— - -But why were they thus trapped and taken from their friends toward an -unknown fate, leaving an overturned canoe behind to give the cruel -impression that they had drowned? What was the meaning of it? Why had -this man, who now sat slumped in the bow of the leaky canoe, followed -Dirk so relentlessly into the wilds? - -He puzzled until his head throbbed, but could piece out no answer to -those questions. The steady rhythm of the paddle might have lulled him -off to a fitful stupor, so weary was he; but the filthy water in the -bottom of the canoe slapped him again and again into wakefulness. It -seemed as if hours passed before the canoe made a sudden swerve -shoreward, and the bottom beneath him scraped on a gravel spit of land. - -It was already quite dark. The two lads were bundled out of the canoe -and were glad to be relieved from their painful position. Had their -captor not untied all their bonds save those holding their hands behind -their backs, they would have fallen over when they were first put on -their feet; as it was, Dirk was forced to lean against a tree to keep -himself erect. - -The Indian’s master pulled the gags from their mouths with a warning. -“Not a word out of either of you! Not that it would do you any good, at -that. You don’t know where you are, but I can tell you it’s miles from -anybody that could hear you, or would care what I did to you if you -yelled. So be good little kids and follow my half-breed friend Mink. And -remember, I still have my gun handy.” - -The half-breed, who during this time had been pulling his canoe ashore -and hiding it in a pile of brush near by, now silently raised the pack -of provisions to his shoulder and began stolidly tramping through the -darkness. The driven boys stumbled in his wake, too weary to know or -care where the overgrown path might lead. Behind them marched the -nameless man, who now and then uttered an oath as he tripped over a root -or sank ankle-deep in a forest pool. - -After half a mile, the guard dropped so far behind that Dirk ventured a -cautious whisper in the direction of his friend; although, since the -half-breed looked back from time to time, it was impossible to attempt a -flight. - -“Where do you think they’re taking us, Brick?” - -Brick shook his head hopelessly. “Don’t know—too dark to see. I think -we’re on the west side of Moosehorn, but maybe not.” - -“I’m sorry I was such a fool as to let them take us so easily. If I’d -listened to you——” - -“Don’t worry, my lad.” Brick’s voice was somehow cheering. “They won’t -hurt you. Me, maybe, but not you.” - -“You mean—you know why they captured us? I’ve been trying to figure it -out. Why, why did they do it?” - -“Mean to tell me you don’t know? Why, I’ve been suspectin’ it since the -first time I saw that guy with the gun. Don’t you realize that he -kidnaped you so that he could make your dad pay a wad of money to get -you back?” - -Dirk Van Horn gasped incredulously. “But—kidnapers! Why, my father isn’t -a wealthy man! He’s quite well off, but even if he is president of a -bank, he doesn’t own all the money in it!” - -“Well, wouldn’t he give all he’s got to have you back home safe again? -Sure, he’d do that, and this tough bird that’s got us counts on it. No, -you’re safe until he gets some ransom for you.” - -“Quiet, there!” commanded an angry voice, with a curse. Their guard had -caught up to them, and a wave of his weapon put a stop to their -whispered comments. But Dirk at last understood why he was a prisoner. -He understood, too, the strange invitation of the man when they had -surprised him at Lake Lenape. He had tried to lure them away from their -friends, and failing in that, had kept watch on the boy’s every -movement. Seeing that a capture was impossible so close to the camp, he -had somehow found out about the long trail expedition, and no doubt -hiring the villainous half-breed Mink to help him in his criminal -purpose, had gone before them and waylaid them at Flint Island by a -ruse, at a time when the two boys were by chance separated from the main -party. - -At long last the man ahead stopped and put down his burden. A dim shape -loomed before them, a rough hut of logs chinked with mud, that was -evidently the dwelling of the half-breed. He fumbled with the latch on -the door. The man in the slicker tossed away a glowing cigarette, and -pushed them inside, harshly ordering Mink to shut the door and cover the -window before lighting the lantern. - -In the glow of the battered oil-lantern that the half-breed brought -forth, the boys looked about with half-shut eyes. A heap of cured skins -lay in one corner, and the single room smelled vilely of stale smoke and -damp walls and animal remains. The Indian knelt on the hearth of the -rough stone fireplace, but his master stopped him with a word. - -“Quit that! Do you want to tell the world where we are? They could see -that smoke ten miles away! We’ll grab a cold supper tonight, and -tomorrow when you’re here with them, don’t take any chances, or you’ll -end up in the jug! There must be some stuff in that bundle that we can -eat.” - -He sank down on a stool and lit another cigarette, while the half-breed -rummaged in the Lenape provision-sack and discovered some cans of fruit -and vegetables, which he opened with the blade of an ax. The two -prisoners, too tired to care what befell, sank to the floor and lay -there half-asleep, until the Indian roused them roughly and shoved food -at them, untying their chilled hands so that they might eat. - -Hungrily, they wolfed down the unappetizing fare. Cold corn from a can, -dry bread, and still dryer prunes do not constitute an ideal repast for -famished boys, but they made the best of what was given them. Brick, -indeed, was so strengthened by the meal, poor as it was, that his Irish -fighting spirit came back to him. Chewing a crust, he lifted his head -and directed a fierce glance at their enemies. - -“You’ll go to jail for life for doin’ this!” he challenged. - -The man wiped his mouth leisurely, rose, and strode over to the hapless -lads. - -“Still full of pep, eh? Well, Redhead, it won’t take us long to put that -out of you! Young Mr. Millionaire Van Horn here will be all right if -Papa comes across tomorrow, but you ain’t worth a nickel to me, and -don’t forget it!” His cold blue eyes widened. “Say, what’s that thing -stickin’ out of your shirt?” - -Brick drew back, fumbling at his breast, where the honor of Lenape, in -the shape of a rumpled bit of green-and-white bunting, had been carried -throughout the journey. - -“It’s—nothin’, just a flag,” he muttered, trying to stuff it out of -sight. - -His tormentor laughed jeeringly. “Just a flag, eh?” With a sudden -movement, he tore it from the boy’s grasp. After a slighting glance, he -crumpled it in his fist, strode to the door, and tossed the Lenape -pennant into the mud outside the step. - -He whirled to meet Brick’s leap. Dirk sprang to help, but was -disdainfully pushed aside by the silent half-breed. When next he looked, -Brick lay sprawled out on the floor, with an ugly red blotch on his -forehead and helpless rage crackling in his eyes. - -The man’s doubled fist threatened further punishment. Then, with another -empty laugh, he turned on his heel. - -“Go to sleep, you brats,” he flung out over his shoulder. “Toss them -some blankets, Mink. I’ve got to get some rest if I’m hoofing over to -Yanceyville in the morning.” - -The blanket-rolls of the two trailers had been taken from their canoe -along with the larger pack; and these were now thrown over them as they -crouched in one corner of the hut. The walls and crude floor-boards let -in draughts of chill, damp night air, and they hunched together dumbly -for warmth and companionship. With the moaning of the wind through the -trees above their heads as a doleful lullaby, they sank into the -despairing slumber of the captive. - -After a century of nightmares in that dark, noisome hole, Dirk stirred -his cramped limbs and opened his eyes to find a ray of daylight slanting -through the single window. His enemy stood with one hand on the latch of -the door, giving parting orders to his servile guide. The man’s pasty -face showed the effects of an existence that was not natural to him, -whose haunts were those of the city. His serge suit was stained and -creased, while his cheek bore a clotted scratch where he had scraped it -against the projecting limb of a tree during the dark passage of the -previous night. - -“And remember,” he was snarling, “that you ain’t to let those brats out -of your sight for a minute! They’re slippery little imps, especially -that red-headed one. If all goes well and the old man comes across with -the money, I’ll be back with your share by night.” - -“You not try to fool me, eh? You pay me what you said?” - -“Sure, Mink. We’re partners on this—split the dough fifty-fifty. I’ll -telegraph old Van Horn from Yanceyville, and if he’s got any sense, -he’ll send the cash by wire right away. It’s a cinch.” - -He passed out into the sunlight, scratched a match, and began puffing -the eternal cigarette. As he disappeared, the Indian shrugged and set -about putting together a breakfast as cold and cheerless as the meal of -the previous night. - -Miserably the boys roused themselves to face another day of -imprisonment, in the tumbledown cabin of the half-breed, who handed food -to them silently and whose watchful, savage glare made them break off -each time they attempted to speak to one another. In fact, so closely -did he watch their least move that Dirk, after an hour, gave up all hope -of finding any avenue of escape from beneath the half-breed’s eye. - -More than two hours had passed, Dirk judged, since the departure of -their nameless foe, who was evidently now well on his way to Yanceyville -on his nefarious errand of attempting to extort a large sum of money -from Dirk’s father as a ransom. What would happen? Even if the money -were paid promptly, would this man free them at once, or would he -attempt some further villainy to prevent them from putting the law on -his track as soon as they had won to civilization? - -Mink, who had been sitting on his stool with his back against the door, -passing the time by whittling idly at a stick of firewood, sat up -suspiciously. His nose was in the air, sniffing like a hound that has -lost the scent. He rose with a clatter and paced, still sniffing, to the -dead fireplace. After a few seconds, he shrugged and returned, -apparently satisfied, to his post. - -Dirk went back to his gloomy thoughts, which were now turned toward his -companions, who had set out so blithely with him on the Long Trail. Were -they even now mourning his death and Brick’s, as victims of a canoe -accident? He recalled his clumsiness the first time the _Sachem_ was -launched—no doubt they thought him still a lubber who would upset his -craft and drag his friend with him to the watery depths. But Mr. -Carrigan was wise; and though their captors were cunning, they had left -several clues that might be read. For instance, the provision-sack had -been tightly lashed within the canoe; Sagamore Wise-Tongue would think -it strange that it had worked loose when the canoe overturned. They had -left no tracks, except a trampled spot in the bushes on Flint Island, -but perhaps, perhaps the Lenape men had not given up hope. Their stock -of food was gone, but they would find some way to exist, even in the -wilderness—— - -He woke from his reverie. Mink had again jumped to his feet, nose in -air. Dirk sniffed too. Something stronger than the heavy odor of the -cabin was sifting through the chinks in the logs. It smelled like the -lodge at Lenape, in the evening with the whole tribe gathered around the -fireplace—— - -With a wild cry, the Indian threw open the door, leaped across the -threshold, and slammed it behind his retreating form. A frozen instant -of hushed wonder—the smell became undeniable—a smell of charring -timber—— - -Dirk dashed for the window, but Brick was before him. Together, the boys -stared through the dirty pane. The forest showed them no danger signals, -but from over their heads came the thuds of a scrambling body and the -low hiss of flames in dry shingle-boards. - -Brick turned to his friend, his freckled face aglow with renewed hope. - -“This cabin must be afire, Dirk!” he muttered, trying to keep down the -exultation in his heart. “Gollies, listen to that! The roof must be -blazin’ like sixty!” - -It was true; rising above the beats of his heart, the listening Dirk -could hear the crackling of hungry flames. - -“Our chance!” Brick’s eyes were dancing. “Come on! Old Mink sure will be -busy for a minute, and he won’t think about us. Now’s our chance to make -a getaway!” - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - THE FLIGHT INTO THE HILLS - - -The two captives were out the door of the burning cabin in an instant, -and broke wildly for cover in the thickets beyond the clearing. - -Dirk, as he fled, cast a desperate glance over his shoulder. Mink, their -half-breed guard, had climbed somehow to the roof of his shanty, and -with his khaki shirt, which he had torn off in haste, was striving to -beat out the licking flames that fed on the dry, rotten shakes. His back -was toward them, and he was so immersed in his furious task that he took -no notice of their flight. - -With Brick at his side, running stealthily and gasping for breath, he -found himself beneath the shadow of a clump of pines. Pausing now to -look about and get some feeling of the direction of the lake where their -friends must be, he was startled by having his comrade seize his arm and -shake it roughly. - -“Gollies, how could I forget?” the red-headed lad panted. “I left the -flag back there at the hut—the other guy chucked it in the mud last -night!” - -“We can’t stop!” urged Dirk. “That Indian will get us——” - -“No! Sagamore Carrigan give it to me to keep safe—it’s the honor of -Lenape, he said! I got to get it! Say, Van, these birds don’t want me. -It’s you they’re after—you keep runnin’, and maybe I’ll catch up with -you!” - -He was off before Dirk could speak further, racing back the way they had -come, perhaps into the very arms of the enraged Mink. Dirk, however, had -no intention of deserting his friend. He could see nothing in the -direction of the hut save a thin column of greasy-looking smoke through -the trees. He threw himself on the needle-carpeted earth, his chest -heaving with exertion and excitement. If Brick came back this way, with -the Indian after him, perhaps he could divert his attention, lead him a -chase through the underbrush—— - -A squawking flight of large birds, crows and bluejays among them, -swooped over his head. He rose on his elbow to mark their noisy passage. -Not five yards off, the low scrub-oak bushes rustled and parted, -revealing a rusty-coated, sharp-nosed animal with a brushy tail. It was -a fox. Dirk did not move; the fox saw him, but cast only an incurious -eye on him, and trotted off swiftly as if on urgent business at a far -place. - -Dirk jumped to his feet. A curl of smoke crept across the slanting bars -of sunlight that fell to the floor of the glade. A distant murmur like a -rising wind came to him, and his mouth went dry with fear. Why wasn’t -Brick back? What was happening there through the screening forest? - -He took a step forward, as if to run to his comrade’s assistance. As he -did so, he caught sight of Brick on the other side of the glade, waved, -and ran to his side. The Irish lad’s face was pale, but he clutched in -one hand the bedraggled banner he had risked recapture to save. - -Dirk took his arm. “Are you all right, old fellow? Where is Mink?” - -“I—I fell down once, and he saw me, but he couldn’t get down from the -roof. Say, some of the bushes and trees are on fire—I could hear ’em -sizzle. Let’s get out of here!” - -“Which way is the lake, do you know?” - -“We can’t stop to think about that—we’ve got to run! Soon as he puts out -the fire, that Indian is goin’ to start trackin’ us down—they can follow -like a bloodhound!” - -“He won’t put it out soon. Look there!” Dirk pointed into the tree tops. -The crackling roar had grown louder now, and as they looked, a leaping -rope of flame bridged the gap between two trees nearly overhead. A -smoking twig whirled to the ground beside them, starting a slow spark in -the dry pine-needles. - -“We can’t tell which way to go—but I think the fire is between us and -the lake! We must get away!” - -He began to pull Brick forward, following the direction taken by the -fleeing fox. - -“Say, thanks for waitin’ for me,” gasped Brick. “But you better——” - -“Save your wind!” Dirk fought his way through a scratching barrier of -brush. The horror of a hissing wall of flames at their backs put wings -on his heels. - -They labored in silence up a steep hillside, crossed a rocky ridge, and -scrambled down into a blasted ravine on the other side. Dirk was aware -that his friend was muttering shakily. - -“I got to stop a minute! You can’t hear the fire now—get my wind——” - -Both spoke softly, as if even now some enemy, concealed near them, might -overhear. - -“All right,” Dirk replied, watching Brick sink down upon a moss-covered -ledge of rock. “But that Indian will be following us as soon as he can, -if he knows we’ve gone this way. Maybe we should go in another -direction.” - -A few moments passed in silence. - -“I wish I knew where the lake was,” said Dirk finally. - -“Well, this creek here probably runs down into it.” - -“That’s true—but as near as I can see, this is the same one that goes -right by the cabin. We’d only run right back into Mink’s arms. Guess -we’ve got to make for the hills. Then if one of us climbs a tree, we can -get our bearings.” - -Brick sighed heavily, and Dirk stared at him. Their adventures had put -them both in sad case. Garments were stained and torn, bareheaded and -grimed with dirt were they, looking like two scarecrows. Dirk wondered -why Brick was so laggard in the flight. It was not like him to drag -behind. The boy’s freckles stood out against his white face, and his lip -was trembling. - -“Know what I think?” asked Dirk. “I’ll bet that man with the gun was the -person that started the fire. Of course he didn’t do it on purpose, but -he was always smoking cigarettes and throwing them away without putting -them out first. This morning, when he went away, he was smoking. A spark -probably caught somewhere and set fire to the shack—it’s a regular old -tinderbox. Well, shall we start again?” - -“I’m game,” answered Brick; but he took his time getting to his feet. - -They began the second stage of their flight by crossing the creek, where -they paused for a hasty draught of water, and then attacked the long -steady slope on the far side, toiling upward through a dense growth of -evergreens. It seemed as if they would never get clear of the towering -trunks and branches that seemed to push down upon their shoulders, -smothering them and impeding their way. When at last they attained the -height, Dirk was reluctantly forced to abandon his plan to climb a tree -and thus get a view of the surrounding country. The lower branches were -still so far above his head that it would be impossible for the most -agile boy to get a foothold on the smooth trunks. - -He turned to Brick. “Say, old lad, perhaps if you give me a boost——” He -broke off, seeing the pain in his friend’s drawn face. The eyes were -shifting feverishly above the hollow cheeks, and the boy was biting his -lip to keep back a moan of anguish. “Why, Brick, are you hurt? Why -didn’t you tell me?” - -Brick swayed, and had Dirk not run to his side to support his body, -would have collapsed to the ground. “I’m—all right,” he gasped out. “You -go on—get to the top of the darned mountain—the honor of the camp——” - -“What’s the trouble? Are you sick?” - -“Fell down that time—the Indian was lookin’—kind of knocked my ankle -over a rock——” He fell backward in his comrade’s arms, and Dirk realized -that he had fainted. - -That was Brick Ryan, all right—floundering along gamely without a word, -although his ankle must have made him want to scream out at every step! -Then a realization of the seriousness of the situation came over Dirk, -and he began tearing at the loose collar at his injured friend’s throat. - -Fortunately, he had not spent his time at Camp Lenape without picking up -some bits of knowledge of first-aid. “When anyone faints, never try to -move him—give him lots of air—lean him forward so the blood rushes to -his head——” Muttering these half-remembered instructions, he bent the -limp body forward and began rubbing Brick’s dangling wrists and -forearms. He wished they had brought some water, but there had been no -way to carry it—— - -Brick moaned weakly, and his eyelids fluttered. “What—what happened, -huh? Is it Van? Whillikers, to think that F. X. A. Ryan passed out like -a baby——” - -“Don’t talk,” his friend ordered. “Just rest a minute. We’re safe for a -while now. When you feel better I’ll go get you a drink.” - -The injured boy fell back, his chest heaving irregularly. Dirk stripped -off his sweater and folding it into the form of a pillow, placed it -under Brick’s head, slightly downhill. His next care was to examine the -ankle that had been struck when the boy had escaped, for a second time, -from the half-breed’s clearing. - -The ankle was swollen badly—no doubt about that. Dirk, feeling glad that -their captors had not searched him, found his pocket-knife and carefully -slashed away the strings of Brick’s shoe; he then tenderly removed it, -although not without causing a slight groan from its owner. The stocking -was also pulled off, exposing the wounded area. - -The ankle looked puffy and discolored, but as near as Dirk could tell, -it was not broken or even seriously sprained. But none the less, it was -almost a catastrophe for a pair of fugitives in their plight. Without -food of any kind, their ponchos and blankets left behind them when they -fled from the hut, and with a savage pursuer no doubt already on their -track, they must travel far and fast. Now, one of them was crippled, in -pain. - -“Brick,” said the boy urgently, “do you think you’ll be all right if I -carry you a ways? We’ve got to get to water, and I think there’s a brook -at the bottom of this hill somewhere. If you’re sure you won’t faint -again——” - -Brick clenched his teeth. “Go ahead,” he answered bravely. “Gee, I hate -to think that I’m holdin’ up the party this way. Maybe if you left me, -you might find somebody who would come back and get me.” - -“Nonsense! Whatever happens, I won’t leave you, old lad. It won’t be -much of a job if I take you with the fireman’s lift.” - -Brick grunted as he was hoisted upon his friend’s right shoulder, his -body hanging downward from the waist; but he made no outcry as Dirk bore -him in this fashion down the hill. In fact, he was so silent that Dirk -feared he had fainted for a second time; but since his head hung low, he -was in no danger. The truth was that he was gritting his teeth to keep -from moaning when the injured ankle swung slightly in their progress. - -Dirk, for his part, made haste to reach the brook, for he bore no light -burden. But a vision of what might happen were he to injure his own legs -among the treacherous roots and rocks of the hillside made him step -warily. If both of them lay hurt in the wilderness, with none knowing -their plight or whereabouts, they would eventually starve, if they did -not sooner die of exposure. - -At long last, the burbling of water over stones was heard close at hand, -and Dirk eased his burden to the ground. The rains of yesterday had -swollen the little watercourse, and a fairly deep pool, overhung with -brambles and scrub-oak, glistened beside them. - -Dirk wiped the sweat from his face, and took a deep breath. His first -care was to bring his companion a drink of water in his cupped hands, -and to wash away the sticky grime that clung to Brick’s pale cheeks and -forehead. - -“That’s swell!” sighed Brick. “Now, if my foot was tied up good and -tight, maybe I could hobble on a ways further.” - -“I’m taking no chances,” answered Dirk grimly. “That hoof of yours looks -bad. Here, move to the bank, right over this place, and dangle it in the -cold water. Best thing to take down the swelling.” - -Brick Ryan obediently did as he was told. The shock of the chill water -on his ankle set his teeth chattering, for all the moist heat of the -forest; but soon the injured part became numb, and the throbbing ache -nearly stopped. - -Almost an hour passed. During this time Dirk had not been idle. He had -found a straight, tough sapling of ash with a fork at the top, and with -his knife had shaped the ends to the semblance of a rude crutch. - -“Mighty warm today,” he remarked to the watching Brick, as he pulled off -his khaki shirt over his head. “Won’t need this.” He proceeded to tear -the shirt into strips. The narrowest of these he laid aside, and bound -the rest over the forked head of the improvised crutch, making a smooth -padding. - -“Now, let’s have a look at the ankle again.” - -Brick summoned up a tired grin. “It’s much better, Doc. You couldn’t -look after me any better if you had a beautiful nurse to help you. Say, -what do you keep lookin’ over your shoulder all the time for?” - -“Am I doing that? Humph! Guess I’m still scared old Mink will pop his -head out at us. I sure don’t want to get kidnaped again with that ugly -lot, do you?” - -While he was speaking, he had deftly wound the strips torn from his -shirt tightly about the bruised ankle. The cold-water treatment had -reduced the swelling almost completely, but the skin showed an ugly -black and blue patch. - -“Yell out if I hurt too much,” he ordered; “but the tighter I tie it, -the better it will be.” He rose, and helping Brick to his feet, offered -him the crutch he had made. “Now see if you can get around.” - -Brick gingerly took a few steps. “Gollies, this is a swell crutch, all -right! I’m good for a hundred-mile hike right now. But where do we head -for?” - -For a moment Dirk made no answer. Then something snapped inside him, and -he cried out bitterly. - -“I don’t know! Where are we? Where is the Lenape gang? We’ve got to find -food and shelter before night, and already it’s getting late! Oh, I -don’t know where to go, Brick—but we’ve got to go now, or we’re done!” - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - THE END OF THE TRAIL - - -Dirk’s momentary outburst passed as soon as it had come, leaving him -heartily ashamed of his despair. He should not be the one to lose hope; -now, if ever, he must show the manhood that was in him. - -He clapped Brick Ryan on the back, and tried to summon a smile. “There, -old man, it’s all right. This whole mess is really my fault—I was dumb -enough to let myself get kidnaped in the first place. If you think that -crutch of yours will work, take a good drink and let’s hike.” - -Brick set off eagerly, stumping across the creek and manfully following -Dirk’s leadership through the forest, trying not to drag his -tightly-bound foot or to knock it against the stumps and boulders that -littered the earth. Dirk kept looking backward to see how his friend was -progressing, stopping now and again to lend an arm in crossing some -marshy bog or climbing a steep bank. He tried to keep his bearings and -follow a straight line that eventually would bring them out upon high -ground from which he hoped to spy the lake, the only landmark that -either of them knew. - -He forced Brick to stop frequently, for otherwise the red-haired lad -would have gamely plodded on until he dropped. During one of the pauses, -Brick asked: “Say, since it looks like we’re lost for certain, what -about buildin’ a smoky signal fire? Maybe if the gang is around, they’ll -see it and come to help.” - -“I thought of that. But we don’t know that they are still around. Don’t -forget they think we’re drowned. And we do know that Mink will be -looking for us. A smoke signal would give us away—he’d get us before -anybody else could find where we were.” - -On, on they went at the maddeningly slow pace that made their journey -seem like a dream, one of those nightmares in which the sleeper is -pursued by unknown terror, but must stagger onward like a man walking -under water. The sun dropped lower and lower above the endless tree -tops. - -Brick sank down, and threw his crutch away from him with a groan. - -“It’s no use!” he panted. “I can’t go on, Van. My foot’s achin’ like it -was stung by a million bumblebees. If I had somethin’ to eat, maybe I -could get a little further, but gollies, this hike is too much for me. -You go on,” he pleaded, “wherever you can go, and leave me—leave me——No -half-breed in any old canoe will ever turn me over and shoot me in the -leg——” His crazy jargon trailed off into a feverish moan. - -It was painfully clear to Dirk that his friend’s strength was completely -gone, and that he was already on the fringes of delirium. The shadows -were lengthening on the mountainside where they lay; during the last -hour they had been climbing steadily. Soon it would be dark. - -The boy looked about him helplessly. Was this the end? The end of that -long trail the two comrades had followed together, through capture and -fire and flight and injury——He stood on a rocky shoulder of mountain in -trackless wilds, with his hurt friend huddled at his feet. If he had a -part of the skill of Sagamore Carrigan, he might, even with only his -jack-knife to help him, rig up some sort of shelter against the coming -cold night, might find some wild food or trap a small beast. But he -could lean on no other person now; he was alone with his helpless -charge. A keen wind swept up from the valleys below. It was Dirk Van -Horn’s dark hour. - -As he stared out over the gently waving tree tops, he could see only -endless ridges of hills, one beyond another, above which the red torch -of the sun blazed like a burning ship. They must have circled around too -far, until now they were on the other side of the slopes that guarded -Lake Moosehorn. He turned his face upward, where the summit of the -mountain showed against the sky. As he looked, a pale spark came into -being against the dimming sky. It was a star. No! Could it be—— - -He cried out, and shook Brick’s shoulder in a sudden frenzy. “It’s not a -star!” he screamed. “It’s—it’s a light! A light up there, Brick!” - -“Never get back,” moaned the injured boy drearily. “It’s a long way from -Lenape we are——” - -“Wake up, Brick! I tell you, I see something up there. It looks like a -tower of some kind. Brick, we’ve got to get there now!” - -But Brick Ryan was beyond caring. He did not even stir as he was lifted -in the arms of a haggard, wild-eyed lad whose heart burned with new -hope. Saving his breath, Dirk made no further effort to speak. The body -of his comrade hung in his arms, a leaden weight, as he stumbled -forward, his muscles crying out in weariness, his teeth clenched in a -last despairing endeavor. - -A few hundred yards up the slope his feet touched a worn path, along -which was strung on tree-trunks a line of black wire, leading upward. It -was a telephone line. Somebody was up there, somebody who could give -them food, and fire, and a place to lie in peace and safety! - -“Cheer up, F. X. A. Ryan, my son!” Dirk murmured. “You’re safe now, old -lad! Up we go!” - - -In the deck-house of the fire tower at Lookout, young Ugly Brown was -staring through the gathering twilight, scanning the slopes below -through a pair of field glasses lent to him by the young warden who -stood at his side. He was startled to hear a ringing cry from below, -among the trees bordering the trail. He could not make out the words, -but the tone was desperate. He was out through the trap-door in an -instant, and was half-climbing, half-sliding down the iron ladder that -hung from the steel cross-pieces of the tower. - -“Hey, go slow there, youngster!” the warden shouted down after him. -“You’ll break your monkey neck!” - -Ugly did not answer. He had a feeling that he knew the voice that had -uttered the cry that had come floating up to him through the dusk. - -He leaped the last few feet at the bottom, and raced down the trail. -From the dimness of the woods, a strange pair staggered toward him—one -ragged, stumbling ghost bearing another, a limp form in his arms, -marching onward with the high valor that will not admit defeat. - -“It’s Van Horn!” Ugly shouted joyfully. “Say, what’s the matter with -Brick? We thought you guys were drowned, but Sagamore Carrigan wasn’t -sure, and all the bunch has been huntin’ for you all day——” He broke off -sharply, and rushed forward to support the tottering figures. - -The young fire warden, who had only delayed in his tower to snatch a hot -thermos bottle and a pair of blankets, came to his assistance, and -together they knelt over the two exhausted wanderers where they had -slipped to the ground. - -Dirk felt himself lifted up. The steaming aroma of hot coffee was under -his nose, and a strange voice was ordering him to drink. The hot fluid -burned his tongue, but sent new life coursing through his veins. - -He pushed away the mouth of the bottle, and sat up. “I’m all right,” he -croaked. “Look after Brick. His ankle’s hurt pretty bad, and it got -worse because we had to hike.” - -“He’ll be all right,” came an answer. “The fire warden will fix him up -pretty quick. Do you know me, Van? It’s Ugly Brown. Gee, this has sure -been an exciting trip! I bet none of the other gangs that went on the -Long Trail ever had as much fun as we’re havin’!” - -“It may have been fun to you, Ugly, but Brick and I have had a tough -time of it. Last night and today—I don’t want to think about it! Every -minute we thought that half-breed Indian, Mink, was going to jump out on -us and take us back to be held for ransom.” - -The fire warden, who had been working over Brick and making him as -comfortable as possible on a blanket, looked up from his task. - -“I was sure that’s who it was, when the hut caught fire this morning,” -he put in. “That is one bad Indian—or maybe I should say was. There’s a -pretty good chance that he may not be in the land of the living -tonight.” - -Dirk sat up suddenly. “You mean—he was—killed?” - -The man shrugged his shoulders. “That was a pretty bad blaze they had -down there at his shack. It would have been worse, only thank goodness -the woods were damp after the rain; otherwise our outfit would have had -a nice crown fire to fight today. Collins was patrolling down by the -lake, and had to call a general alarm. By the time he got there, the -whole clearing was burned over, and all that was left of the trapper’s -cabin was a heap of cinders. The men are still on guard down -there—several acres were burned over.” - -“And Mink—what happened to him?” - -“Nobody knows. If he wasn’t burned to death, you can bet he’s cleared -out of this country for good. You’ll never be bothered with him again.” - -Dirk laughed feebly. “And to think that all day we were running away -from a danger that didn’t exist! We thought he was trailing us.” - -The warden looked at him curiously. “You must be pretty done in.” - -“We got lost, and couldn’t find our way back to the lake.” The boy -looked about him. “Where is this place, anyway, and how is it that -you’re here, Ugly?” - -“This is the Lookout, where the fire tower is,” explained the other boy, -alive with excitement. “If you get up on top of the hill here, you can -see for a million miles all over these mountains. The lake is right -below. You must have come around from the other side. Mr. Carrigan -looked at the canoe we found turned over. When he saw that all the stuff -was gone, he said he thought somebody had captured you. Then he found -where the bushes were tramped down, over on Flint Island. We couldn’t do -much last night in the dark, but he got the chief warden to give us some -grub and a tent. Then, since early this morning, all of us have been -scoutin’ around these woods, lookin’ for signs of you. They ought to be -comin’ in pretty soon. Boy, won’t they be mad when I tell ’em I was the -one to see you first!” - -“We must tell my father,” said Dirk. “Can anybody get word?” - -“Don’t worry,” answered the warden. “Soon as I get back up the tower, -I’ll telephone to Yanceyville, and they can wire from there. He’ll be -glad to hear. There was a chance that you two might have been caught in -the fire. Ever since Riccio was caught, we’ve had orders to hunt for -you.” - -“Who’s Riccio?” - -“Why, that’s the name of the man that kidnaped you! You see, he turned -up at the telegraph office in Yanceyville this morning and sent a funny -message to your father. The telegraph man was suspicious, and as soon as -he left, he put the sheriff on his trail. It turned out that this Riccio -had a police record, and a bad one, too. He was arrested, and finally -admitted that he’d caught you and that Indian Mink had you in his shack. -He must have been a fool to try and get ransom money by telegraph. Well, -perhaps a fat jail term will teach him a lesson.” - -“Then—then——” Dirk was bewildered. It seemed as if all their troubles -were ended. The half-breed dead or flown, his master in jail, and soon -the Lenape trailers would again be united. “Then everything’s all right, -and tomorrow we can go on to the top of Mount Kinnecut——” He stopped, -for Ugly Brown could not conceal his amusement, and was laughing loudly. - -“Say, Van, how do you get that way? You’re right on the top of Mount -Kinnecut at this very minute!” - -At the words. Brick Ryan stirred among his blankets and tried to sit up. -“Mount Kinnecut?” he mumbled. “Gollies, that’s the place we got to find. -Dirk will help me get there, won’t you, Dirk, my boy? Dirk’s the best -guy that ever hit the trail, and I’ll lick the bird that says he’s not!” - -Dirk Van Horn leaned over and patted his friend’s arm. “There, take it -easy, Brick! We’re there, old chap—we’re right on the top of old -Kinnecut, and you can go to sleep now.” - -“Can’t go to sleep! Got to do somethin’—can’t climb, though, because I -got a bum leg. You’ll do it, though, won’t you, Dirk?” He fumbled at his -breast. - -“Do what?” the fire warden asked gently. “What must he do? Listen, you -come along with me now, and you’ll soon be stowed away in bed.” - -“No, I won’t. Dirk’s got to do it first! And it’s right he should, too. -He’s the best of all of us. I wanted to quit, but he fought along, game -as a bull-pup, and carried me. I won’t move till I see him do it!” - -“I think I know what he means,” said Dirk gently. “Shall I? I guess he -won’t rest easy until it’s done.” He reached out and took the crumpled -bit of cloth that Brick was clutching. “Ugly, where is the tree that has -all the Lenape trailers’ flags nailed to it?” - -“Why, it’s right up the trail about a hundred yards. A big old dead -pine—you can’t miss it. I’ll go with you.” - -“No, you stay here with Brick. I won’t be long.” - -Brick fell back, watching Dirk’s face. “It’s the honor of Lenape, Dirk!” -he whispered. “You brought us through. There’s a couple nails in my -pocket. Good luck to you, pal!” - -Dirk clasped the outstretched hand, and ran up the trail alone. There -was the tall pine. A few wooden cleats were fastened on the lower part -of the trunk, leading up to the thick branches. As he swung himself -upward, all his weariness fell away from him like a cast-off garment of -care. Up, up he climbed, until he was among the smooth limbs of the -pine. Upward, above the tree tops that swept down before his eyes to the -sunset-dyed waters of Lake Moosehorn, that lay in a curving sweep far -below, with the red spark of a campfire on its banks to mark the -rallying place of the Lenape clan. Still he climbed. Now he was at the -very top of the world; in all directions stretched the unbroken -wilderness that he and his comrades had conquered. And now his hand -touched the lowermost of a string of tattered pennons that were nailed -to the peak of this mighty tree that others of the Lenape brotherhood -had scaled before him, in years gone. - -Dirk Van Horn smiled to himself, and waved a hand at his watching -partner far below. Then, still smiling, he drew a stone from his pocket, -and with a few resounding blows, nailed a bit of green and white bunting -in its place. A finger of light, the last ray of the dying sun, tipped -the little banner with gold, as the honor of Lenape fluttered bravely in -the evening breeze. - - - THE END - - - - - Transcriber’s Notes - - ---Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public - domain in the country of publication. - ---Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and - dialect unchanged. - ---In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the - HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.) - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Camp Lenape on the Long Trail, by -Carl Saxon and Arthur Grove Day - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAMP LENAPE ON THE LONG TRAIL *** - -***** This file should be named 54630-0.txt or 54630-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/6/3/54630/ - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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margin-right:auto; margin-left:auto; } - p.csmaller { max-width:38em; } - p.csmallest { max-width:40em; } - blockquote { max-width:23em; } - - - div.verse { max-width:25em; margin-right:auto; margin-left:auto; } - div.bq { margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; max-width:23em; } -/* book advertisements */ - p.bkad {font-size:125%; font-weight:bold; margin-top:2em; max-width:20em; margin-right:auto; margin-left:auto; } - p.bkpr {font-size:90%; } - p.bkrv { } - dl.blist dt { margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; } - dl.blist, dl.biblio { margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; max-width:25em; } - - dl.int { margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; max-width:25em; } - dl.int dt {margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; } - dl.int dd {margin-left:2em; } -</style> -</head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Camp Lenape on the Long Trail, by -Carl Saxon and Arthur Grove Day - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Camp Lenape on the Long Trail - -Author: Carl Saxon - Arthur Grove Day - -Release Date: April 29, 2017 [EBook #54630] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAMP LENAPE ON THE LONG TRAIL *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - -<div id="cover" class="img"> -<img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Camp Lenape on the Long Trail" width="500" height="747" /> -</div> -<div class="box"> -<h1>CAMP LENAPE ON THE LONG TRAIL</h1> -<p class="center"><b>CARL SAXON</b> -<br /><span class="small"><i>Author of “Blackie Thorne at Camp Lenape” and “The Mystery at Camp Lenape”</i></span></p> -<div class="img" id="p1"> -<img src="images/p1.jpg" alt="Decoration" width="200" height="132" /> -</div> -<p class="center">BOOKS, INC. -<br /><span class="small">NEW YORK</span> <span class="hst"><span class="small">BOSTON</span></span></p> -</div> -<p class="center small">COPYRIGHT 1940, 1935 BY BOOKS, INC. -<br />MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p> -<h2>CONTENTS</h2> -<dl class="toc"> -<dt><span class="cn">I. </span><a href="#c1"><span class="sc">A Feud Begins</span></a> 7</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">II. </span><a href="#c2">“<span class="sc">Brick Ryan’s Not for Sale!</span>”</a> 17</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">III. </span><a href="#c3">“<span class="sc">Help!</span>”</a> 29</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">IV. </span><a href="#c4"><span class="sc">Dirk Jumps</span></a> 40</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">V. </span><a href="#c5"><span class="sc">The Sinking of the</span> <i>Sachem</i></a> 54</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">VI. </span><a href="#c6"><span class="sc">Fight! Fight!</span></a> 66</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">VII. </span><a href="#c7"><span class="sc">The Red Hand Revengers</span></a> 78</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">VIII. </span><a href="#c8"><span class="sc">Shenanigans for Brick</span></a> 91</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">IX. </span><a href="#c9"><span class="sc">Dirk Hears of the Long Trail</span></a> 103</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">X. </span><a href="#c10"><span class="sc">Off for Camp Shawnee</span></a> 116</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">XI. </span><a href="#c11"><span class="sc">The Captain</span></a> 127</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">XII. </span><a href="#c12"><span class="sc">The Mysterious Watcher</span></a> 138</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">XIII. </span><a href="#c13"><span class="sc">On the March</span></a> 151</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">XIV. </span><a href="#c14"><span class="sc">The Watcher Again</span></a> 164</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">XV. </span><a href="#c15"><span class="sc">The Trap on Flint Island</span></a> 175</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">XVI. </span><a href="#c16"><span class="sc">Fire in the Forest</span></a> 187</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">XVII. </span><a href="#c17"><span class="sc">The Flight into the Hills</span></a> 200</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">XVIII. </span><a href="#c18"><span class="sc">The End of the Trail</span></a> 212</dt> -</dl> -<div class="pb" id="Page_7">7</div> -<h1 title="">CAMP LENAPE ON THE LONG TRAIL</h1> -<h2 id="c1"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER I</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">A FEUD BEGINS</span></h2> -<p>Brick Ryan was bending over a washtub -out behind the Lenape lodge when the big, -shiny automobile roared up the road into camp.</p> -<p>Brick paused in the act of wringing out his -best and only flannel shirt, straightened, took -one look at the glittering limousine, and whistled.</p> -<p>“Whew! Will you look at the golden -chariot!” he exclaimed to himself. “Brick, my -boy, can it be that a young millionaire is comin’ -to Camp Lenape?”</p> -<p>He bent his flaming mop of copper-colored -hair over the tub once more, but kept a watchful -blue eye on the big car, which had now drawn -up beside the kitchen wood-pile.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_8">8</div> -<p>From the wheel of the limousine stepped down -a man smartly garbed in the uniform of a chauffeur. -He swiftly threw open the silver-trimmed -rear door, saluted, and offered his arm as the -first of the occupants of the car descended. This -person was a lady, somewhat stout, with a worried -look on her face. Brick saw the flash of -many diamonds glitter on her hands as she -turned and spoke to those still remaining within -the shadowy interior.</p> -<p>“Dirk, dearest, here we are! Gracious, what -a rough and dusty road it has been! This camp -must be in a perfect wilderness! John, you must -come with me right away to see the camp director. -I simply must explain to him about -Dirk’s diet, and I do hope he will see to it that -Dirk wears his rubbers and heavy underwear -when it rains!”</p> -<p>Her husband, an older man with hair gray -about the temples, nodded reassuringly as he -joined her. “There, there,” he said soothingly, -“it will be all right, I’m sure. The director -knows his job; he’s quite accustomed to looking -after all the boys.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_9">9</div> -<p>“But you know Dirk has always been so delicate! -I declare, I wish we had sent him to Wild -Rose Camp again this year—the nurse there was -so sympathetic. But you would insist that he be -brought to this outlandish place, even when you -knew that none of the boys of our social set -would think of coming to such an ordinary sort -of camp!”</p> -<p>“I know, Marcia,” the man replied. “But -Dirk is growing up now. I want him to mix -with a regular gang of fellows his own age, and -do all the things they do. Maybe at first it will -seem a bit like roughing it, but he’ll soon get -used to it and be into everything with the best of -them. Isn’t that right, old man?”</p> -<p>“Yes, Papa,” a bored young voice answered -from the depths of the back seat.</p> -<p>“That’s splendid, dear,” the mother said. “I -know you will be a brave lad. Now, your father -and I are going to speak to the director about -your diet. Benson will help you with your luggage, -and you can find out which house you are -going to sleep in.”</p> -<p>“They sleep in tents here, Mama.”</p> -<p>“Tents! You see, John, what sort of place -you have chosen! And you know how easily -Dirk catches cold! The idea of having the boys -sleep in drafty tents! I really must speak to the -director at once!” She picked her way delicately -down the hill toward the front of the -lodge, followed by her apologetic husband.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_10">10</div> -<p>“Gollies!” Brick Ryan muttered to himself, -and watched for further developments.</p> -<p>They were not long in coming. The chauffeur -went around to the heaped luggage-rack of the -car, and began unloading its bulky contents. -Several shiny suitcases landed on the ground, -followed by a leather hat-box, a bag of golf-clubs, -two tennis racquets, a gun-case, fishing -rods, and finally a large wardrobe trunk, which -the man handled with difficulty. Shouldering -the latter, the man also disappeared down the -hill. Brick scratched his head, stared at the pile -of baggage that still remained, and hung a -patched pair of khaki pants on the line to dry -in the fresh morning air.</p> -<p>He wheeled about as the same drawling voice -he had heard from within the car came to his -ears.</p> -<p>“I say, would you mind lending a hand with -this luggage?”</p> -<p>Brick looked at the speaker with open mouth. -He saw a tall, pleasant-looking boy of about his -own age, with brown eyes and yellow hair, spick -and span in white flannels and straw hat. Brick -was so startled by the fact that the stranger wore -a stiff white collar and necktie that at first he did -not comprehend what the boy had said.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_11">11</div> -<p>“Huh?”</p> -<p>“I said,” the newcomer repeated carefully, -“that I would like you to help me with all this -luggage of mine. That is, if it won’t interfere -with your laundering work.”</p> -<p>Brick slowly drained the soapy water from -the tub, and considered this request. Then he -took a second look at the strange lad.</p> -<p>“You’re not a cripple, are you?” he asked -solicitously.</p> -<p>“I beg your pardon?”</p> -<p>“What’s the matter with you grabbin’ some -of those bags and hikin’ down with ’em yourself?”</p> -<p>“You don’t understand,” the other said patiently. -“Of course I shall carry my rod and -racquets, but I don’t care to lug these heavy bags -about myself. Just take them down to my tent -like a good chap. I’ll pay you, naturally.”</p> -<p>Brick’s Irish temper, never far from the surface, -blew up.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_12">12</div> -<p>“Say, Mr. Dirk Astorbilt, or whatever your -name is, you’ve got me all wrong! Where did -you get the idea that Camp Lenape fellows were -a bunch of Pullman porters, standin’ around -waitin’ to carry bags for a ten-cent tip? Just -because I happen to be washin’ out my duds so -I wouldn’t look like a hobo, you must think I’m -a bellhop or somethin’. Well, up here, mister, -every man totes his own pack, see?”</p> -<p>“But—— Do you really mean that you are -a fellow-camper, like myself?” the blond boy -asked awkwardly.</p> -<p>Brick snorted, stuck his hands in his pocket, -and stared pugnaciously at the other.</p> -<p>“Go climb a tent-rope!” he exclaimed rudely, -and swaggered off down the hill toward the grove -of pine trees that shadowed the white canvas -dwellings of the Lenape campers.</p> -<p>In the shade beside the flagpole, he sat down -on a log to cool off. With a blue bandana -handkerchief he mopped his freckled brow and -snub nose. A pine-scented breeze fluttered down -the mountainside at his back and ruffled his unruly -red hair. Perhaps he had been a little too -hasty in taking affront at the new boy’s request. -He sniffed the air, and its fragrance soon made -him forget the unpleasant encounter with the -strange boy in white flannels. For the thousandth -time, he gazed over the spreading campus -of Lenape, and peace descended on his fiery soul.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_13">13</div> -<p>Before his eyes, under the limpid blue sky of -August, between the mountains and the little -lake, lay Camp Lenape, summer home of a hundred -lively boys and the dozen councilors who -guided their many outdoor activities. Over his -head, on the long porch of the lodge, he could -hear the uplifted voices of Jake and Jerry Utway; -the twins were skylarking about, followed -by the laughter of “Happy Face” Frayne, the -genial assistant director. Beyond, from the -kitchen, came a clatter of pans and a snatch of -song as Ellick, the chef, and his dusky minions -prepared lunch. Brick looked down the steep hill -to the boat dock, where a rowboat full of boys -with fish-poles was just coming in from a trip -to the south end of Lake Lenape. He yawned -sleepily, and stretched. From the rows of tents -to his left someone shouted his name.</p> -<p>A group of campers trailed through the bushes -in the wake of Mr. Carrigan, the camp naturalist. -Among the boys who were thus returning -from a nature-study hike were Blackie Thorne, -Soapy Mullins, and Lefty Reardon, the latter of -whom had called out.</p> -<p>“Hi, Ryan!” Lefty repeated. “Come on -down to the tent, you loafer, and clean up for -inspection!”</p> -<p>“Right away!” Brick answered lazily, but did -not stir. He hated to break the spell of contentment -that lay over him.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_14">14</div> -<p>Brick Ryan loved Camp Lenape. It meant -everything to him, the camp life, and for three -summers now he had whooped with delight when -the time came to leave the hot city streets behind -and make for the Lenape hills for two months of -busy, carefree sport in the green out-of-doors. -Here, among his camper friends and the wise -leaders like the Chief and Happy Face and Lieutenant -Eames and Mr. Carrigan, he could do to -his heart’s content the things he loved—swim and -fish and get up shows and take long hikes through -the mountains—— And this year, for the first -time, he would be allowed to go on the Long -Trail——</p> -<p>The blare of Ted Fellowes’ bugle, sounding -Recall, broke forth over his head. He rose, -stretched, and sauntered down to Tent One, his -new quarters for the next two-week period. -Every fortnight during the season was moving -day for Lenape; then some of the boys who could -not stay the entire summer would leave, and other -boys would come up from the city to take their -places. At this time, too, the tent assignments -were shifted about so that each camper could get -to know, and live as tent-mates with, a wide -variety of other boys. Brick, who had that morning -been given a bunk in the tent nearest the -lodge, presided over by “Sax” McNulty, the -comical leader who directed camp dramatics, -wondered idly what sort of gang his new tent-mates -would turn out to be.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_15">15</div> -<p>As he entered the tent, Lefty Reardon looked -up as he was spreading his blankets neatly over -his canvas bunk.</p> -<p>“Well, it’s about time you were on the job,” -he grinned. “What you been doing, Brick? -Picking daisies? How about doing a little fancy -work with a broom?”</p> -<p>“All right, Mr. Tent Aide,” Brick answered -good-humoredly, and set about making his own -bed. “What have you guys been doin’ all -mornin’—lookin’ for filly-loo birds up in the tall -timber?”</p> -<p>“Mr. Carrigan showed us some partridge. -That’s better than loafin’ in the sun. Say, have -any of the pups hit camp yet?”</p> -<p>This was Lefty’s belittling way of referring -to new boys, tenderfeet who were that day coming -to camp for the first time. Brick groaned.</p> -<p>“Don’t remind me—I’d almost forgot about -it! Gollies, I was just exchangin’ sweet words -with one of the juiciest specimens that you’ve -ever seen! Mr. Chauncy Montmorency, the -Dude from Swellville! Such a pretty boy, too!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_16">16</div> -<p>Lefty grunted. “What’s he like?”</p> -<p>“You’d have to see it to believe it. Mama and -Papa and the shover all come along in the family -limmyzine to see that little Algy gets here -without getting his tootsies wet! ‘And I sye, -me good feller,’” he mimicked, “‘would you be -kind enough to carry me bags down to the -<i>ho</i>-tel?’”</p> -<p>Lefty’s jaw gaped. “Gee, he sure must be a -green one!”</p> -<p>“Wait till you see him! He’s the Millionaire -Baby, and no mistake! I pity the poor guys -that get in his tent——” Brick Ryan broke off -suddenly as a shadow fell over his shoulder. He -looked up, and gasped.</p> -<p>At the door of the tent stood a blond young -fellow in white flannels. A few paces away a -chauffeur in uniform stood respectfully, laden -with shiny suitcases and sporting goods.</p> -<p>“Oh, there you are again,” the lad said breezily. -“Sorry to trouble you, but is this Tent One? -If it is, I believe I shall have the pleasure of -sharing it with you chaps. My name is Dirk -Van Horn, and the camp director has assigned -me to stay here. I hope that we shall all be very -happy and friendly tent-mates!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_17">17</div> -<h2 id="c2"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER II</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">“BRICK RYAN’S NOT FOR SALE!”</span></h2> -<p>Brick was too aghast to think of anything -to say. He scowled, threw up his hands -helplessly, and deliberately turned his back on -the smiling Van Horn.</p> -<p>But Lefty, whatever he might think about -“pups” in private, had been appointed councilor’s -aide for Tent One, and as such was camper-leader -in charge when Sax McNulty was not in -sight. He rose and extended a hand to the newcomer.</p> -<p>“Glad to meet you, Van. My name’s Reardon. -I see you’ve got a baseball glove there -among your things. We need good fielders on -the camp team—some stiff games are coming up. -We’ll talk about it later. Yes, this is Tent One. -I hear you’ve met Brick Ryan, over here,” he said -easily. “The rest of the bunch will be along -pretty quick, except for some of the new boys -that are hitting camp today.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_18">18</div> -<p>“Thanks. We passed a hay-wagon full of -young chaps down the road a few miles,” answered -Van Horn. “They seemed to be having -lunch.”</p> -<p>“They’ll be along later, I guess. Hope we get -some good ones for Tent One. Sax McNulty -went down to show them the way. He’s our -leader—you ought to hear him shake out a tune -from that saxophone of his! Then, outside of -you and Brick and myself, we’ve got little Joey -Fellowes and Slim Yerkes—— But dump your -stuff down here on the floor, and after lunch I’ll -show you where to stow things.”</p> -<p>Benson, the chauffeur, gladly stacked his load -of baggage inside the tent, and returned for the -remainder. His young master spread his legs -apart and looked over the tent with a patronizing -air.</p> -<p>“Nice little place you’ve got here, but it could -be fixed up better. I’ve got some pennants and -a few pictures in my trunk that we can stick -around to make it look quite homelike, I fancy.”</p> -<p>Lefty smiled grimly. “We mostly do our decorating -up at the lodge, where there’s plenty of -room. With seven fellows and a leader in a tent -this size, we have to save space for the things we -use every day. You seem to have a lot of junk -there—enough to take up a whole tent yourself. -After lunch we’ll weed out what you need and -the rest can be stored under the lodge.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_19">19</div> -<p>“I don’t know about that. A chap wants to -be comfortable, doesn’t he? Oh, I guess there -are my folks coming to say good-bye! Hello, -Mama!”</p> -<p>Brick scornfully watched the approach of the -fond parents. The lady, after embracing her -boy, looked disdainfully about the tent and its -simple furnishings. She did not sniff, but she -looked as if she might at any moment.</p> -<p>“Gracious, John, do you really think we -should leave Dirk here? I’m glad we thought to -bring up his spring cot and mattress—the idea of -having a growing boy sleep on plain canvas -stretchers like these!”</p> -<p>“The other boys don’t seem to have suffered,” -Mr. Van Horn smiled feebly.</p> -<p>“This is Reardon, Papa,” his son said. “Plays -baseball, you know.”</p> -<p>“Fine! Fine! Well, young men, Benson is -bringing down a big watermelon for Dirk’s tent-mates. -Guess you won’t mind a cool slice later -on? Now, Dirk, your mother and I are going. -We’ll have lunch in Elmville. If you want anything, -write or wire me and we’ll see what the old -man can do. That canoe ought to be along in -the morning.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_20">20</div> -<p>“Thank you, Papa.” Dirk turned to Lefty. -“Back in a minute, old chap.” He waved a hand -and accompanied his parents up the hill toward -the waiting automobile, where no doubt a fond -farewell was to take place.</p> -<p>As soon as they were out of sight, Brick faced -his friend.</p> -<p>“What a fine sister we drew!” he exclaimed. -“Well, what do you think of the Millionaire -Baby now?”</p> -<p>Lefty returned to his task of tidying up the -tent beside his bunk. “Aw, lay off, Brick. It -isn’t his fault he’s a poor little rich boy. He -seems to me like a pretty decent sort, and that -watermelon will come in mighty handy, too. Just -because he took you for a kitchen mechanic, -you’ve got it in for him. Snap out of it! There -goes First Call, and here’s the tent still in a gosh-awful -mess. Stir yourself!”</p> -<p>Brick Ryan bent moodily to the work. After -a moment, he snorted as his eye fell once more on -the shiny heap of luggage and sport outfits, and -his scorn broke forth anew.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_21">21</div> -<p>“Just the same, Lefty my son, Little Lord -Fauntleroy will need a bit of polishin’ before he’s -a true-blue Lenape man, and F. X. A. Ryan is -the lad to give it to him,” he muttered darkly. -“Mark my words, young Chauncy is in for a lot -of fine adventures he never dreamed of back in -dear old Swellville!”</p> -<p>During lunch, Brick listened with ill-concealed -disgust while young Van Horn chatted with -Lefty about baseball and prep school and asked -the usual list of silly questions that a new camper -always puts. When the meal was over, Brick -and silent Slim Yerkes washed the dishes in short -order, and then retired to the tent for quiet hour. -Slim soon left to visit a friend in a neighboring -tent, and Brick stretched out on his bunk with a -copy of the life-saving manual, to study up for -the various tests that were a part of the badge -requirements. But no sooner had he settled himself -than Dirk Van Horn, followed by the admiring -little Joey Fellowes, came down from the -camp store.</p> -<p>“What a silly rule they have here, that a fellow -can’t spend more than fifteen cents a day at the -store!” Dirk was complaining, munching a chocolate -bar. “Up at Wild Rose Camp last year -we could spend as much as we wanted, and they -had everything—ice-cream cones every day. -Why, I could buy out this little store if I wanted -to! Here, youngster, have a bag of almonds.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_22">22</div> -<p>“Thanks,” said Joey admiringly. “Say, what -kind of a place was that Wild Rose Camp?”</p> -<p>“Very select. I believe it cost me five hundred -dollars a season, not counting extras, such as -piano lessons, archery, and so on.”</p> -<p>Brick Ryan said “Humph!” in a loud tone, -but Joey was visibly impressed.</p> -<p>“Well, youngster,” Dirk went on, “shall we -get busy unloading all these traps of mine?”</p> -<p>“Sure. Say, if you could go to such a swell -place as that, how come you’re here at Lenape?”</p> -<p>“Oh, just a notion of Papa’s. You see, he -used to go to college with the camp director here. -I made Papa buy me a canoe all my own if I -promised to come here, but I tell you, if I don’t -like this place, I shan’t stay very long.” Dirk -turned airily and stooped to open the large wardrobe -trunk that stood amidst his heap of luggage. -“Shall we get to work?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_23">23</div> -<p>Brick Ryan, whose sole possessions had come -to Lenape with him in a canvas dunnage-bag, -pretended to read, but he kept one eye on the -proceedings. Languidly Dirk, aided by the awed -Joey, began to unpack his multitude of belongings. -First he unrolled a thick mattress—the -only mattress in camp aside from those in the -hospital tent—and spread it on the lower bunk -nearest the lodge. Brick felt called upon to -interfere.</p> -<p>“Say,” he began, “that bunk belongs to Sax -McNulty, our leader. All the other lower bunks -are already taken. You’ll have to take one of -the uppers.”</p> -<p>“I beg your pardon?”</p> -<p>Joey broke in hastily. “Say, Van, I got a -lower, but I don’t mind sleeping up in Heaven—I’m -used to it. You can have mine, over here, -and I’ll take the upper.”</p> -<p>Dirk nodded. “Thanks. Very sporting of -you, youngster.” He spread the mattress on the -bunk that Joey had relinquished, and with an inexperienced -hand spread sheets and fine woolen -blankets in the semblance of a bed.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_24">24</div> -<p>Next he began unpacking the trunk and suitcases, -and Brick Ryan’s snorts grew louder and -louder as the stack of the newcomer’s possessions -grew higher. In a short time the tent was strewn -with clothing and objects of all sorts. The leader’s -empty bunk was piled high with suits of -every kind and shade, among them a trim blue -yachting outfit with white cap, and a khaki uniform -with Sam Browne belt and white helmet -such as African explorers wear. One suitcase -was almost completely taken up with books and -a portable typewriter. Between reading the -books and dressing up in the dozen different -suits, Brick reflected, the new boy would have -very little time to do any camping.</p> -<p>But this was not all. It seemed as if Dirk -must have gone into a big sporting-goods store -and ordered at least one of everything in stock. -He had complete outfits for baseball, basketball, -and track. Joey was set to work stringing up an -aerial for a portable radio receiving set that was -carefully packed in a leather case. The interior -of the tent was submerged beneath such objects -as a big electric lantern, a fisherman’s creel, two -swimming suits, a sketching outfit, golf clubs, -hats and shoes of all sorts, and a black bag such -as is carried by doctors on their rounds. Dirk -opened the latter, and took from its well-filled -interior a bottle of pills.</p> -<p>“That reminds me!” he said. “Forgot to -take my prescription.” He swallowed two pills, -made a face, and picking up an armload of shoes -and a banjo case, approached Brick.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_25">25</div> -<p>“Excuse me, old fellow,” he said agreeably, -“but would you mind awfully if I parked these -things under your bed? These tents don’t seem -to have any closets in them, and that clothes-line -from the tent-poles doesn’t look very strong.”</p> -<p>“Can’t do it,” Brick answered shortly.</p> -<p>“Why not? You don’t seem to have a great -deal of junk yourself.”</p> -<p>Brick groaned. “Listen!” he said with some -heat. “Lefty Reardon told you he’d show you -where to put your stuff. He’s up at aide’s meeting -now, and since Sax is still away, I don’t mind -tellin’ you what the rules are. We got eight people -in this tent. Suppose every single one of -them had as much stuff as you’ve got?”</p> -<p>“But I can see they haven’t, so——”</p> -<p>“Wait! We have inspection here every day, -to see which tent wins the pennant. Everything -has got to be in its place, and there’s a place for -everything. Beds made in a certain way, clothes -folded in a certain way, shoes in a line under the -bunk, everything polished up and swept out. Do -you figure on cleanin’ up all that stuff every day, -or are you goin’ to hire Joey as a valet?”</p> -<p>“My dear chap, I merely——”</p> -<p>“My advice to you,” Brick went on, “is to -pick out from that mess just what you need every -day, and store the rest in the lodge. Then we -might have some room to move around. Do you -get that?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_26">26</div> -<p>A crimson flush mounted from beneath Dirk’s -immaculate white collar and spread over his pale -features, but he said nothing. He dropped the -things on the floor in a heap, and sat down on a -locker-box, watching Joey sort out a collection -of stockings and handkerchiefs. Brick pointedly -returned to his life-saving manual.</p> -<p>For the first time since he had arrived at Lenape -a few hours before, Dirk Van Horn paused -to think. He could not see that he had done anything -to merit such a harsh tone as that used by -the red-headed Irish boy. Of course there was -that awkward mistake when Ryan had been -washing his things back of the kitchen; but that -might have happened to anyone. Dirk had never -before met a boy of the independent stripe of -Brick Ryan. There had been no boys like him -at “select” Wild Rose Camp, nor in what his -mother called their “social set” back in the city. -But Dirk wanted everybody to like him. He -wanted Brick to like him and admire him. He -went about it in the only way he knew—but it was -the wrong way.</p> -<p>Brick was aware of a tap on his shoulder. He -turned; before him stood the despised Van Horn -in his citified garments. There was a smile on -his face. His right hand was outstretched -frankly; his left hand held a tennis racquet of the -most expensive make.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_27">27</div> -<p>“Look here, Ryan, old chap,” Dirk began. -“We have to live together. Let’s be friends! -What say? I know I was a chump a while ago, -but I apologize, and I hope we’ll get along splendidly. -Now, just to show you I think a lot of -you, I hope you’ll accept this little present. It’s -just a trifle, and I have two of them—but perhaps -it will prove how much I want to be your -friend.”</p> -<p>Before the amazed Brick knew what was happening, -the other had pressed the handle of the -racquet into his hand, and clapped him on the -shoulder.</p> -<p>“That’s the spirit! Now we’re fast friends, -you know!”</p> -<p>Brick stared at the gift. Fashioned of finest -wood and gut, it represented at the least an -amount that Brick would have had to work on his -paper-route, back in the city, for a month to earn. -Unbelievingly he looked from the gift to the -giver. A sudden tide of red anger flooded his -freckled face to the roots of his red hair. He -jumped up, flung off the outstretched hand, and -faced Van Horn. There was an ugly look on his -face, and ugly words rose to his Irish tongue.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_28">28</div> -<p>“Friends, is it!” he shouted. “Gollies, you -and your little presents! Pup, get this! You or -the likes of you can’t buy Brick Ryan’s little finger, -and you can’t bribe him, either! You and -all your pretty junk may go over big with kids -like Joey that don’t know any better, but Brick -Ryan’s not for sale!”</p> -<p>Dirk’s mouth fell open, and he backed off hastily. -“Why—Why, I’m sorry—I didn’t think -you’d take it that way! Of course, if you don’t -care to accept it——”</p> -<p>“Yah!” cried the Irish boy. With sudden -fury he flung the offending tennis racquet in a -wide curve. It fell out of sight into a clump of -bushes some yards away; and Brick Ryan, with -clenched fists, turned on his heel and stalked from -the tent.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_29">29</div> -<h2 id="c3"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER III</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">“HELP!”</span></h2> -<p>Dirk Van Horn wondered if he were -going to like Camp Lenape. There seemed -to be far too many uncomfortable rules that got -in the way when a fellow wanted to have some -fun. Then, too, outside of little Joey Fellowes, -nobody had seemed duly impressed with his father’s -wealth and his luxurious camping outfit. -It was clear that this was going to be quite different -from Wild Rose Camp, where everyone knew -that he was J. T. Van Horn’s only son, and -where he and his tutor had shared a cosy cottage -with every convenience that money could buy.</p> -<p>Dirk sighed; then turned suddenly as a new -idea struck him. He’d show these kids what a -real sportsman could do!</p> -<p>“Joey, old son,” he said, “would you mind -clearing up the rest of this stuff? I’m going to -take a look around the woods and see what the -chances are for a bit of sport.”</p> -<p>“What you going to do, Van?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_30">30</div> -<p>“Oh, just a bit of gunning. That chap Reardon -mentioned at lunch that he had scared up -some partridge on the mountain this morning. I -thought I might get a shot at a few.”</p> -<p>Joey Fellowes stood aghast at such daring. -“Whe—you mean, shoot them? Say, nobody at -Lenape ever does that! We just go out and -watch birds and animals and things, and try to -study them and take pictures of them. Nobody -in camp is supposed to have a gun!”</p> -<p>“Humph! What do they come up here in the -woods for? Well, here’s one person who isn’t -going to overlook a chance if he happens to see -one!”</p> -<p>“But—but—— Why, Sax McNulty or any -of the rest of the councilors would sure bawl you -out if they found you with a gun! It’s against -the camp rules!”</p> -<p>“Bother the old rules! Good heavens, McNulty -may change his mind pretty quick if I -present him with a nice bag of partridge ready -for Tent One to eat for supper.” With deliberate -casualness, Dirk slung his gun-case over his -shoulder, unearthed from a suitcase a large box -of chocolate cake as provisions, and paused at the -door of the tent. “Come along if you like, Fellowes.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_31">31</div> -<p>“No—no thanks,” blurted Joey. “You better -report to the Chief before you go.”</p> -<p>“I won’t be long,” said Dirk carelessly. -“Well, then, ta-ta! If you’ve got most of my -things stowed away by the time I come back, I’ll -slip you a dollar or two.”</p> -<p>With these generous words, Dirk waved an -easy farewell, and strode off through the trees, -taking care to make a wide circle about the -lodge, where some fussy councilor might see him -and keep him from his purpose. His plan was -simple. He wanted to make Brick Ryan and the -rest of the campers realize what a fine fellow was -now in their midst. If he could casually stroll -into the tent with a dozen partridge in one hand -and his shiny new rifle in the other, they would -see at a glance that here was a comrade to be -reckoned with! He conjured up pleasant pictures -of their surprise and admiration, himself -the center of the group.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_32">32</div> -<p>Still lost in these happy visions, he crossed a -sunny meadow and picked his way over the -dusty, rutted country road that led to camp. -Here he plunged into thick woods, making -straight up the mountainside. It was cool in -the leafy forest, and he would have been very -well contented save that a swarm of gnats hovered -over his hatless head in a buzzing cloud, -following wherever he went. His coat was too -warm, but he did not want to carry it as his hands -were already full, and he wished to be free in case -he located the desired covey of partridge.</p> -<p>Ahead lay a flat, marshy stretch of ground, -where clumps of grass and rotting tree-limbs -formed a half-submerged, muddy mass. There -was no path going around, and Dirk, balancing -his burdens dangerously, jumped from one solid-looking -tuft to another. More than once he -slipped on the rotting stuff, and floundered -ankle-deep in slimy water. Long before he -reached the other side, he regretted that he had -not changed his city flannels for togs more suited -to mountain work. His low sport shoes were -caked with ooze and half full of water; his erstwhile -spotless white flannels were muddied, -streaked with green scum, and a triangular tear -on one leg showed where he had come up against -a sharp branch.</p> -<p>Ruefully he sank to a seat on a decayed oak-trunk -and unloosened his wilted linen collar. He -would have liked a drink, but he knew that the -stagnant pools at his feet were unhealthy, and -he settled back, inspected his glistening rifle to -see that the magazine was full of .22 caliber -cartridges, and then slowly began munching the -cake he had brought with him.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_33">33</div> -<p>He had barely eaten half of it, however, when -he leaped hastily from his seat with a cry. One -arm was afire, beneath the sleeve, with a thousand -prickling stings! A simmering stream of large -black ants that infested the rotting wood—no -doubt attracted by the chance of refreshment in -the shape of sweet crumbs of cake—was flowing -over his hand and arm, and even beneath the -collar of his shirt. In a painful frenzy he dropped -the cake and began brushing off the stinging insects, -stripping off his coat and shirt. It was -several minutes before he could fight free of the -crawling horde, and then, grabbing his things, he -rushed off up the hillside away from the treacherous -lower ground. Even then, he was reminded -now and again of his misadventure by a red-hot -sting in some part of his tender skin beneath his -clothing.</p> -<p>So far, his expedition had not been successful. -He had not seen any sign of a partridge or any -other small game. Even had there been any of -the birds in that part of the mountain, his stumbling -progress would undoubtedly have given -them warning long before he could train his rifle -on them. But he kept on up the slope, smashing -his way through the thick underbrush and trying -not to turn his ankles on the rocky ground underfoot.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_34">34</div> -<p>To his right he saw through the leaves a long -scar of gray rock outcropping on the hillside. -This promised easier going than the tangled underbrush. -Besides, he thought, if he could get -high enough, he might be able to look around -and see in just which direction lay the camp. His -flight from the marsh had twisted him around -somehow, and a glance at the sky gave him the -feeling that the sun was not where it should -rightly be at this time in the afternoon. He -altered his course and began scaling the sloping, -moss-encrusted rocks.</p> -<p>Before he was half-way up the rocks, he began -to wish he had not chosen such a steep and rough -road. His shoes and trousers were in pitiful -shape. Still he scrambled upward in the hot sunshine, -dripping perspiration, ascending on hands -and knees and trailing his rifle after him. He -was glad to see that the rocks ended a few feet -above his head in an overhanging bank of earth -and matted shrubs. Over the top! He charged -the little cliff, seized with his free hand the roots -of a sapling oak that grew on the edge, and tried -to haul himself up. His first heave loosened the -soil; he could feel his hold slipping. He cast a -fearful eye backwards; if he fell on those sharp -rocks——!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_35">35</div> -<p>A shower of dirt, twigs, and small pebbles rattled -down upon his head; with a rending noise, -the roots he was gripping parted. Clawing the -air helplessly, Dirk fell backwards, and slid painfully -a few feet down the smooth rocks. His -rifle flew from his hand, described a short circle -in the air, and landed with a bruising crash upon -his outstretched right leg.</p> -<p>Dirk cried out, and rubbed his shin. The sharp -blow brought tears of pain into his eyes, and he -gritted his teeth. He realized now that it had -been a foolish thing to trust his weight to such -a sketchy hand-hold. Well, he had suffered for -his error!</p> -<p>He clutched the rifle, whose wooden stock was -badly scarred by the fall, and began crawling -across the rocks to the shelter of the brush. -Every movement heightened the ache in his leg, -which was now throbbing brutally. When he -gained the wooded hillside, he rose and tried to -walk; but after a few steps he gave up, sat down, -and began rubbing his shinbone once more.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_36">36</div> -<p>Dirk was not used to giving up an idea easily, -and he hated to think of limping back to camp -with torn clothes, and lacking the game he had -set out so proudly to get. Here would be a very -different return from that he had visualized! -But now he began looking about him and puzzling -just in which direction lay Camp Lenape.</p> -<p>The sound of a bugle call floating up from the -lake came to his ears, and faintly he could hear -shouting, off to his right, where the woods were -thickest. He could not be exactly sure where -it came from, but evidently camp was not far -away. Of course, he could back-track on his -own trail, but that would mean going through -the marsh again. There must be a short cut -that he could take. He rose and began hobbling -through the trees, hoping to find a stream -where he could quench his hot thirst. As he -went he thought of his mother and father, by -this time far on the way back to the city. Dirk -Van Horn was just a little homesick.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_37">37</div> -<p>Again came the bugle-call. But this time it -sounded from behind him! He wheeled about, -listening. Where was camp? He could see -nothing through the trees. Perhaps if he could -climb high enough, he might catch a glimpse of -the flagpole or the tents; but his leg was now -swollen and stiff, and useless for climbing. -Where was he, anyway? Could it be that he -was lost among the mountains? Lost! Dirk -began to run unsteadily through the thick -brush. His eyes were wild, and the little hammers -of panic were beating in his brain.</p> -<p class="tb">Brick Ryan was slipping into his swimming -suit in Tent One when Sax McNulty, followed -by a racing pack of boys, appeared at the lower -end of the campus. The new recruits had hit -camp just in time for afternoon swim period.</p> -<p>“Hi, Sax!” the red-headed boy greeted his -leader. “You look hot. Just in time for a -dip.”</p> -<p>The long-faced young man gave him a mournful -look. Sax always looked gloomy, even when -he was saying his funniest things.</p> -<p>“I’m a little sunbeam,” he announced. “I -can keep smiling even after piloting twenty little -greenhorns up from Elmville. Dusty but smiling. -Say, who made my bed so nicely?”</p> -<p>“Me and Lefty.”</p> -<p>“Good lads.” Sax sank on his bunk and began -stripping off his dust-laden garments. “I -met two of the new fellows who’ll be with us -this section. Nig Jackson was one—you remember -him from last year. Another is a new kid, -Eddie Scolter, who claims he can play a clarinet. -But one fellow didn’t come after all, I guess. -The Chief said his name was Van Horn.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_38">38</div> -<p>“Oh!” grinned Brick, “you mean the Millionaire -Baby! Well, don’t worry about him. -He got here this mornin’, and has been around -all day, big as life and twice as natural.”</p> -<p>“Millionaire Baby?”</p> -<p>Brick pointed to the scattered array of suitcases, -clothes, and other possessions that Joey -Fellowes had given up trying to sort out and -arrange. Sax McNulty whistled as he looked -at Dirk’s heaped outfit.</p> -<p>“This all belong to Van Horn?”</p> -<p>“Junk enough for ten guys. Wait till you -get a look at him.”</p> -<p>Sax shook his head. “Can’t have that. Where -is he, anyway? He’ll have to stow that stuff before -Nig and Eddie and the rest get here.”</p> -<p>“Search me,” Brick shrugged. “Haven’t -seen him since siesta. He’s probably off tellin’ -the little kids what a rich guy his dad is, and -how Wild Rose Camp is much sweller than this -joint.”</p> -<p>The leader pulled on his swimming suit, and -looked up thoughtfully. “Don’t tell me he’s the -son of Van Horn, the bank president! Don’t tell -me that!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_39">39</div> -<p>“I’m afraid so.”</p> -<p>“And he’s going to be here in Tent One this -section. Well, well, and a couple more wells! -You don’t seem to have taken to him very kindly, -Brick.”</p> -<p>“He just sort of riled me from the start, I -guess.”</p> -<p>“Well, he’ll be all right after a couple days -here. No quarreling, now! We must all be like -little birdies in the nest, Brick—— Hark!”</p> -<p>Brick Ryan had heard it too. From the mountainside -had come a despairing cry.</p> -<p>“Help!”</p> -<p>He jumped to his feet, and the two, leader -and boy, stared solemnly into each other’s faces. -Then McNulty grabbed for a pair of rubber-soled -tennis shoes, and began furiously lacing -them on his bare feet.</p> -<p>“Come along, Brick!” He dived for the door -of the tent and up the wooded hillside, his red-headed -follower close on his heels. “Somebody -in trouble on the mountain! We’ve got to run, -old boy—and I mean run!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_40">40</div> -<h2 id="c4"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER IV</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">DIRK JUMPS</span></h2> -<p>In the wake of his racing leader, Brick Ryan -dashed through the thickets behind the tent, -and crossed the road. Here Sax paused and -shouted toward the mountainside.</p> -<p>“Hello! What’s the matter?”</p> -<p>Ahead came a faint cry in answer, and a spitting -crack. Something buzzed through the leaves -of a maple overhead, and a detached twig drifted -down.</p> -<p>“That was a gun!” said Brick in amazement. -“Somebody shootin’ through the trees.”</p> -<p>Sax was angry. “The fool!” he cried. “Is -he trying to pick us off?” He raised his voice -and shouted again to the unknown. “Cut out -that shooting! We’re coming right along!”</p> -<p>Again he plunged into the woods. Brick, who -had been rubbing his uncovered arms and legs -where his swimming suit had not protected him -from scratches and whipping branches, panted -at his side. “Over this way it came from, Sax,” -he said. “Not very far off, either.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_41">41</div> -<p>McNulty saved his wind for running, and his -long legs bounded out of sight. In short order, -Brick heard the man’s voice upraised in stinging -rebuke.</p> -<p>“Put that gun down! Here, give it to me, -before you kill a few of us! Now, What do you -mean by this——”</p> -<p>Brick came to the edge of a little glade, and -saw the leader standing threateningly above a -youth who crouched on the sward, guiltily handing -over his weapon. His body was covered with -a stained blue coat and the wreckage of a pair -of white flannel trousers; his yellow hair was -rumpled; and on his pale face there was a look -of mingled relief and dismay.</p> -<p>“Begolly,” said Brick to himself, “it’s the -Baby!”</p> -<p>Sax McNulty seized the rifle and poured out -the contents of the magazine into his hand. -“What are you trying to do?” he asked. “What -do you mean by shooting around Camp Lenape? -Who are you, anyway?”</p> -<p>Brick came up, and grinned at his councilor, -indicating the prostrate figure on the ground. -“It’s the guy I was tellin’ you about, Sax,” he -sneered. “Young Moneybags. What else could -you expect?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_42">42</div> -<p>“My—my name is Van Horn,” the other boy -stammered. “I’m a camper.”</p> -<p>“A camper? You?” McNulty was scornful. -“Well, you must be in the wrong camp. -At Lenape we don’t go around firing rifles all -over the place.”</p> -<p>Dirk Van Horn swallowed, and began clambering -to his feet. “I—I got lost,” he began. -“I read somewhere that three shots was a signal -for help. They didn’t sound very loud, so I -shouted, too. I imagined that someone might -hear me and direct me back to the camp ground. -You see, sir, I hurt my leg——”</p> -<p>“Badly?”</p> -<p>“No—I can walk on it now. But then I got -a trifle frightened, I suppose, and things got -mixed up somehow.”</p> -<p>Brick broke into a rasping laugh. “Lost, is -it! He gets lost a few hundred yards from camp, -and yells for help! You got a job ahead of you, -Sax. He don’t need a councilor—it’s a nurse-maid -he needs!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_43">43</div> -<p>“That’s enough, Brick,” the man said shortly. -“Now, Van Horn, if you can walk all right, -we’ll go back to the tent. I understand you’ve -been assigned to my outfit. Well, first off, if -you’ve got any more guns, they’re going to be -locked up with this one. We can’t have bullets -flying about. Come along—I’ll show you where -camp is. After swim, we’ll see about clearing -up that mess of stuff you left on the floor.”</p> -<p>He led the way back toward the campus, bearing -the forbidden weapon, followed by the crestfallen -Dirk. Brick Ryan began cautiously picking -a path through the underbrush—a swimming -suit was not the best uniform for mountain rescue-work. -He chuckled. “Lost, he was! And -Sax and I thought we were goin’ to pull somebody -out of trouble!”</p> -<p>The bushes ahead crackled as somebody ran -through, and Brick paused. The face of his -friend Kipper Dabney appeared from behind a -tree.</p> -<p>“What’s all the shootin’, Brick?”</p> -<p>Brick answered the question with a laugh. -“You may think you’ve seen greenhorns at Lenape, -Kipper,” he said, “but I want to tell you -we’ve got the juiciest tenderfoot in Tent One -that you ever saw. He’s a lily, he is! There he -goes—Sax McNulty just grabbed his gun in -time to keep him from shootin’ us for a couple -of moose.”</p> -<p>Kipper was interested. “You sound as if you -figured on doing something about it.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_44">44</div> -<p>“Maybe I will,” smiled Brick wickedly. “Out -of the goodness of my heart, I might show him a -few handy tricks. He sure needs a workout!” -He lowered his voice. “About twelve o’clock -tonight, eh? What about it, my boy? Are you -game?”</p> -<p>“You mean—pass him the runaround?” the -other asked doubtfully. “He looks like a pretty -husky fellow. He might go for us.”</p> -<p>“Not a chance! But if you’re nervous, we’ll -get Ugly Brown to come too. This baby is easy. -Is it a go? Swell! Now let’s get down to the -dock—that guy and his fool stunts have made -me miss half my swim!”</p> -<p class="tb">Dirk Van Horn did not fall asleep until some -while after taps had sounded bedtime for the -Lenape campers, and their big bonfire had died -down to embers. He had gone through one of -the liveliest days he had ever known, but although -weary, he was too wakeful to join his -tent-mates in their slumbers. He lay stretched -on his bunk, staring up at the dim, quiet stars -glowing above the sighing branches of the pines, -and recalling the events of the crowded day.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_45">45</div> -<p>Around him, snug in their blankets, slept his -new tent-mates. It was a strange feeling. Last -night he had gone to bed in his familiar room -back home in the city, with his father and mother -close at hand. Tonight he lay out under canvas, -in the forest-clad Lenape hills, listening to the -unknown noises of the night and the deep breathing -of his new-found companions—Mr. McNulty, -and Lefty, and Joey, and the other Tent -Two boys he had met at supper. On the line -from the ridgepole hung his brand-new camping -togs, and the other things he needed were neatly -stowed beneath the bunk or in his wooden locker, -as Lefty had shown him. Lefty had said that -some baseball games were coming——</p> -<p>Dirk sighed. Lefty must know all about his -ignominious return from his hunting trip that -afternoon. If Lefty thought him a chump, perhaps -he wouldn’t put him on the camp team! -He could see now that he had made a fool of -himself with his silly rifle, but how was he to -know all the camp rules? And that Brick Ryan -chap had snickered at him! Why did Ryan dislike -him so? Thinking of Brick Ryan, the new -camper drifted off into slumber....</p> -<p>He opened his eyes. His cheek was tingling. -Something had trailed across his face in the dark!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_46">46</div> -<p>Through the trees he saw the yellow sickle of -a new moon. He remembered now. He was at -Camp Lenape—— But whose was the voice -close to his ear, whispering cautious words?</p> -<p>“Shh! Listen, Van Horn, are you awake?”</p> -<p>He turned his head, and saw the outline of a -strange face above him. A boy whom he did -not know had thus quietly aroused him in the -dead of night.</p> -<p>“Put on your slippers and bathrobe and come -on!” the voice urged. “Don’t wake up anybody -else. This is just for you.”</p> -<p>“But what—what——” Dirk asked hoarsely. -“I don’t believe I know you. What do you -want me for?”</p> -<p>“Hurry up!” the strange boy urged. “It’s -a party. We want you to be our guest. Just a -little fun after taps, old man. Quick, now!”</p> -<p>Wonderingly, Dirk obeyed. He found his -slippers and robe in the pale light, while his guide -waited motionless. Taking care not to make the -least noise to disturb the sleeping leader and the -other boys of Tent One, Dirk crept softly out -into the thin moonlight. His guide took his arm, -and led the way down a path that skirted the -upper row of tents, and then wandered into the -mysterious shadow of the forest. A hundred -yards beyond the farthest tent, the unknown boy -stopped, and whispered close to Dirk’s ear.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_47">47</div> -<p>“We’re giving a party for you, Van,” he explained. -“Very select. Some of the best blood -in camp is waiting to greet you.”</p> -<p>“Why—that’s very kind of them.” Dirk was -flattered. “Where are we going?”</p> -<p>The other hesitated. “Well, you see, our -meeting-place is supposed to be kept a secret. -Would you mind wearing this for a minute?”</p> -<p>Before Dirk knew what his guide was about, -he felt a large handkerchief drop over his eyes. -He muttered a protest, but already the blindfold -was knotted about his head, and even the dim -glow of the night was shut from his sight.</p> -<p>“Just hang on to my arm,” said the stranger -reassuringly. “We’re not far off now. This -way.”</p> -<p>He gave Dirk a slight push ahead. Slowly, -with arms outstretched, Dirk felt his way forward -along the rough path. He did not quite -know what to make of this midnight game of -blind-man’s-buff; but he had no reason to think -that the other boy meant him harm. He remembered -that at Wild Rose Camp last summer, it -was often the thing to have quiet little -“spreads” after bedtime, without the knowledge -of the councilors. Seemingly, Lenape also enjoyed -this adventurous custom; and he took it -as a tribute to himself that he, a newcomer, -should have been selected to be honored on his -first night on the campus.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_48">48</div> -<p>While he was pondering this he was stumbling -ahead over the rough ground, now and then tripping -over a rock or tree-root and leaning heavily -on the arm of the boy at his side. Suddenly, that -arm was withdrawn; he felt a rude thrust into -his back; he stepped forward to catch himself, -found his ankles snared in a rope that had been -stretched across his path. He tripped and -crashed to the earth, throwing his arms out with -a grunt of pain. He had landed with a smashing -thud into a thicket of scratching branches.</p> -<p>The shock of the impact had driven his breath -out of him; he could not cry out. He thrashed -about upon the rocky ground, trying to tear the -blinding bandage from his eyes. But a sharp -knee was now pressing into the small of his back, -and even as he struggled, someone unseen lashed -his hands together with a skillful handcuff knot.</p> -<p>“Take it easy, Baby!” urged a mocking voice -above him, and the knee dug deeper into his aching -back. “How do you like our little party?”</p> -<p>He knew this voice! Brick Ryan!</p> -<p>He thrashed about, striving to regain his feet; -but the torturing knee pinned him fast.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_49">49</div> -<p>“Don’t get worked up,” his tormenter advised. -“We just want you to do a few little -tricks for us. Lift him up, Kipper!”</p> -<p>Dirk was jerked roughly to his feet, pinioned -on both sides by strong arms. Behind him rose -again the jeering voice of Ryan.</p> -<p>“Now, don’t go wild and hurt yourself. If -you’re a nice baby, and do what we tell you, -maybe we’ll let you off easy—maybe!”</p> -<p>Dirk choked, and found his voice. “You are -a coward, Ryan! A coward and a bully!”</p> -<p>“Shut up!” came the savage answer. “Do -you want to wake up the whole camp?” A -sharp point of metal prodded the flesh of Dirk’s -leg. “Feel that? Any more hot air and you’ll -get a touch of this! Now, march!”</p> -<p>Biting his lip to keep back the cry that rose to -his tongue, Dirk Van Horn was dragged through -the woods. His blindfold was still knotted -tightly over his eyes, and he was helpless in the -hands of his captors. Soon, he could tell by the’ -feel of smooth earth under the thin soles of his -slippers that they had come to some sort of clearing. -Here his torturers—he judged that there -were three of them—halted. Again Ryan spoke.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_50">50</div> -<p>“Now, you’ve got so much sportin’ goods with -you, we thought you must be a swell athlete. -We want to see what you can do on the high -jump and the dash and the obstacle race. That -right, boys?”</p> -<p>“I won’t do it,” said Dirk stubbornly. “Let -me out of this, Ryan. If the camp director knew -you were hazing me——”</p> -<p>“Shut up! Now, the first event will be the -runnin’ high jump. When I say ‘go!’ you take -off and show us how to break a record! Don’t -try to pull off that blindfold, either, or you’ll -get another jab with my knife. Ready?”</p> -<p>The restraining arms were drawn away, but -Dirk stood motionless, refusing to reply. Sightless, -he knew that he could not run, or even walk, -more than a few steps before he would again -be brought to the ground with a crash. Where -was he? Far from any help, any sympathetic -leader who could put a stop to the cruel hazing. -Was Ryan determined to push him, helpless, -through the motions of a travesty of a track meet, -in disregard of bruises and broken bones?</p> -<p>“Go!” rasped the voice. “Run! Run, -or——”</p> -<p>Dirk flinched as he felt the sharp knife-point -pierce the skin of his thigh. His terror was rising, -but he did not cry out.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_51">51</div> -<p>A horrible moment of waiting; then Dirk -heard his unseen tormenter laugh wickedly to -himself.</p> -<p>“He won’t play with us, boys! Well, that’s -his hard luck! Too bad! It’s over the cliff for -him!”</p> -<p>“Over the cliff!” echoed the henchmen hollowly. -“We gave him his chance. Come on, -you!”</p> -<p>Again Dirk was dragged through the forest, -more roughly than before. His captors twisted -about so that he had not the least idea in which -direction they were heading, but it seemed as if -ages passed before they halted at last. During -the painful journey he had tried to make some -plan for escape; but it was of no use—there were -three of them, holding him closely; he could -neither see them nor his surroundings, and his -hands were tightly bound. Was their threat -merely a sham, or were they really now nearing -some steep, jagged wall of rock in the forest?</p> -<p>“Don’t move!” warned Ryan suddenly. -“We’re right on the edge of Indian Cliff! Now, -Baby, we’ll give you one more chance. Will you -behave and do your stuff in our moonlight track -meet? Or do you want to end up a hundred -feet below, down on those big rocks, with a -busted neck?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_52">52</div> -<p>Dirk’s head was whirling. He tried to fight -free, but the clutch of the restraining arms -tightened, and an ungentle hand made sure his -blindfold was still secure. He cautiously felt -out with one slippered foot. A few inches before -him, the grassy earth ended in a crumbling edge. -A tingle of horror rose up the boy’s spine.</p> -<p>“Indian Cliff,” Ryan’s voice assured him -harshly. “That’s where they’ll find you in the -mornin’. Well, what about it? Yes or no?”</p> -<p>“You don’t dare go through with it!” Dirk -cried. “You’re trying to frighten me! Well, I -won’t be fooled! I don’t believe you!”</p> -<p>“He don’t believe us!” jeered Brick. “We’ll -have to show him. Get ready. Let him go, my -lads!”</p> -<p>The two henchmen fell back. Dirk turned -swiftly; but the point of the knife caught him in -the side, and he recoiled to the treacherous edge -of the embankment.</p> -<p>“So long, Baby! One jump, and it’s all over -with you! Well, will you jump yourself, or will -we have to heave you over?” Another prod of -the blade accented his words.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_53">53</div> -<p>Dirk swallowed heavily, and tears came into -his shrouded eyes. “You’ll be sorry for this, -Ryan, you mucker!” he shouted. His teeth -were chattering, and a faint breeze fanned his -brow where beads of cold sweat stood out. -“You’re a coward——”</p> -<p>“That’s enough!” Ryan’s tone was ugly. -“Do I have to prod you again, or will you -jump?”</p> -<p>Dirk took a deep gasp of air, and his muscles -tensed.</p> -<p>“I’ll jump,” he said, and leaped blindly forward.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_54">54</div> -<h2 id="c5"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER V</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2"><span class="sc">THE SINKING OF THE</span> <i>Sachem</i></span></h2> -<p>He still lived!</p> -<p>Dirk drew himself up on one elbow, choking. -His mouth was filled with powdery dust, -and every bone ached. Frenziedly, he thrashed -about, and found he had shaken free of the rope -that had bound his hands together. He reached -up and tore off his blindfold.</p> -<p>In the light of the waning crescent moon, he -looked up. A few inches above his head lay the -bank from which he had leaped into the unknown. -Standing there, doubled with silent laughter, -were the three figures of his torturers. Instead -of jumping to death from a precipitous cliff, he -had plunged dramatically from a ledge barely a -foot high!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_55">55</div> -<p>He knew where he was now. To his scattered -senses came the knowledge that he had landed -sprawling in the dirt road that led to camp. The -tents could not be far away, although, blindfolded, -he had thought that Ryan and his gang -had led him for miles through the woods. He -scrambled painfully to his feet and ran up the -road.</p> -<p>Behind him rose an alarmed, muffled shout -from Brick Ryan. “Head him off, Kipper! -He’s goin’ back to camp! Get him, Ugly!” -The shout only made him run faster. Up the -rutted road he sped, flying to security—anywhere, -away from the clutches of those who had -so brutally mistreated him. His pursuers scattered, -seeking to head through the woods and -cut him off from the tent. Dirk lost a slipper, -but did not pause. If they got their hands on -him again——!</p> -<p>A shape darted out at him from behind a tree. -He dodged, and raced ahead, gasping for breath. -Now he could see the gray sheets of canvas that -marked the tents close beside the dark silhouette -of the lodge. Behind him hammered the running -feet of Brick Ryan. He was almost upon him!</p> -<p>Dirk stumbled into Tent One, and fell upon -the bunk where Sax McNulty slept the sleep of -the weary councilor.</p> -<p>“Save me! They’re after me!”</p> -<p>The leader started up open-mouthed, blinking -his eyes. “What—who——” he mumbled. -“Get off!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_56">56</div> -<p>“Save me, sir! It’s Brick Ryan, and he made -me jump over a cliff, and they chased me—— Don’t -let him get me again!”</p> -<p>Others in the tent stirred. Slim Yerkes, in -the bunk above the councilor, sat up and silently -looked at the sobbing figure beneath him. Young -Eddie Scolter woke and giggled uncomprehendingly -at the scene.</p> -<p>“Why, it’s Van Horn!” exclaimed McNulty. -“Having a nightmare, old chap? Wake up!”</p> -<p>Brick Ryan had halted just outside the tent, -and taking advantage of the commotion, sought -to gain his bunk unobserved. He had not intended -that his captive should escape him and -return thus to the tent and arouse the ire of the -leader. He began shedding his garments quickly, -hoping to be found peacefully snoring when Sax -should waken sufficiently to take charge. But -McNulty caught a glimpse of him just as he -was pulling the blankets over his head, and read -the situation in an instant.</p> -<p>“This some of your work, Brick?” he asked -grimly. “There, there, calm down, Van, old -man—why, you’re shaking like a leaf! What -happened?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_57">57</div> -<p>“They hazed me!” Dirk gulped back the -tears. “I’m sorry to make such a fuss, but it -hurt——”</p> -<p>The councilor snapped on the flashlight he -always kept under his pillow, and examined the -haggard boy at his side. “Anything serious the -matter with you? No bones broken, or anything -like that?”</p> -<p>“I—I don’t think so, sir. I’m ashamed to act -this way,” Dirk stammered bravely, “but you -see, there were three of them, and they were -pretty rough——”</p> -<p>“All right. Now, just get back to bed, and -we’ll straighten things out in the morning. -We’ve already roused the whole tent, so don’t -make any more noise tonight.” McNulty climbed -from his bunk, helped the shaking boy to his own -blankets, covered him gently, and looked about -the tent to assure himself that all was well. Then -he crossed to where Brick Ryan lay crouched, -listening furtively.</p> -<p>“You know what the Chief thinks about hazing, -Brick,” he said sternly. “You’ll start the -day tomorrow with two hours on the wood-pile.”</p> -<p>“All right, Sax,” the Irish boy answered sullenly. -“But I didn’t know the big baby was -going to run and tattle! Why didn’t he take it -like a man?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_58">58</div> -<p>“That’s enough! Now, everybody get to -sleep again. We’ve had enough riot for one -night.”</p> -<p>Dirk stretched out his aching body, and closed -his eyes. Through the dark drifted the vengeful -tones of his enemy.</p> -<p>“All right! But anyway, he’s a tattle-tale, -and I’ll fix him for it—you see if I don’t!”</p> -<p>The morning period of camp duty found Brick -Ryan on the wood-pile, serving his time chopping -sawn logs into stove lengths and vowing vengeance -upon the boy who had brought the punishment -on him. He looked darkly from time -to time toward the rear door of the camp kitchen, -where the rest of the Tent One campers were -helping to make the ice-cream for the Sunday -dinner. Among them lounged Dirk Van Horn, -who now and then lent a hand at the job of -turning the heavy churn in the freezer, or packed -some more salted ice around the revolving container. -Brick noted that his foe was now dressed -in garments more suited to a Lenape camper—basketball -shorts and a light, sleeveless shirt. If -Van Horn didn’t watch out, Brick mused, he -would be laid up with a bad case of sunburn, for -his shoulders were pale and lacked the protective -coat of tan that marked the boys who had already -spent a month in the mountain sunshine.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_59">59</div> -<p>“Some people never learn,” Brick muttered, -viciously splitting a stick of smooth birchwood. -“Runnin’ home to mama just because we was -havin’ a little fun with him, and squealin’ to Sax -so he’d make me do wood-pile duty! Well, all I -can say is, my time will come yet!”</p> -<p>He was interrupted by the noisy clatter of the -motor of the camp flivver which, driven by Mr. -Lane, rattled down the road and drew up at the -rear of the lodge. In the back of the small -truck, tightly lashed to prevent jolting, was a -long, curved object wrapped securely in burlap. -As Brick watched, Dirk Van Horn gave a shout -and ran to the driver, who was just descending.</p> -<p>“That’s my canoe you have there, isn’t it, sir? -Listen—doesn’t it say it’s for Van Horn? That’s -me!”</p> -<p>“Yes, it’s for you, I guess,” answered Lane; -“and the dickens of a time I had bringing it -over these roads up from Elmville. We’ve got -plenty of canoes here at camp—what any boy -wants with one all to himself, I don’t know.”</p> -<p>Dirk was not listening. He ran to the group -around the ice-cream freezer, and summoned -them excitedly.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_60">60</div> -<p>“Come on, you chaps! I made my father buy -me a new canoe because I promised to come to -camp, and here it is! Help me unpack it, and -then we’ll try it out. It’s a beauty!”</p> -<p>“Listen!” Lefty Reardon protested. “We’re -on squad duty—we have to make this ice-cream, -and if we go away now, it won’t freeze——”</p> -<p>His tent-mates paid no attention to his objection. -Dirk darted into the kitchen and returned -with a long butcher-knife, with which he began -ripping the seams of the burlap that wrapped -the canoe. In a few minutes the casing was torn -away, and the beautiful slim craft, painted a -bright crimson, lay on the ground with its paddles -along its bottom.</p> -<p>Dirk was jumping around excitedly, pointing -out the features of the superb workmanship that -made the canoe a delight to the eye. “Look at -her lines, you fellows! See those soft seats. -Those duck-boards on the bottom are to keep -your feet dry. I tell you, you have to pay plenty -of money for a boat like this! She’s a real -Indian canoe, and I gave her a real Indian name, -too. See?” He pointed to the shapely bow, -where in golden letters was blazoned the name -<i>Sachem</i>. “Now, who wants to help me try her -out?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_61">61</div> -<p>“Yes, let’s try her out!” echoed Eddie Scolter. -“Come on!”</p> -<p>“Down to the lake!” shouted Dirk. “Here, -Slim, grab hold of that end. She’s light as a -feather—we’ll have her in the water in no time!”</p> -<p>Slim Yerkes obediently lifted one end; Eddie, -Nig Jackson, and Joey Fellowes seized the sides, -and led by the excited Dirk, the group made off -down the path to the boat dock, bearing the -gleaming canoe aloft, leaving her burlap wrappings -to clutter the ground. Lefty, wrestling -alone with the heavy churn of the ice-cream -freezer, shouted a last warning to them, but by -this time his truant comrades were out of sight -down the hill, bent on taking part in the first -launching of the lovely little vessel.</p> -<p>Brick gazed after them disdainfully, impressed -in spite of himself. It was a swell canoe, all -right, and no boy could help being proud of it. -Think of hitting the Long Trail in a craft like -that! But the fellows had no right to leave their -squad duty and run off to play with Van Horn’s -new toy——</p> -<p>An amazed shout rose from the back of the -kitchen. Sax McNulty, who had been working -up in the ice-house, digging out large blocks of -ice and heaving them down to his young assistants, -<span class="pb" id="Page_62">62</span> -had finished and returned to the scene to -find that his squad, with the exception of the -faithful Lefty, had disappeared.</p> -<p>“Hey, what’s happened? Where is everybody, -Lefty? Have they walked out on the job?”</p> -<p>Lefty grunted, struggling with the freezer -handle that grew stiffer at each turn. “Yeah, -Sax—I told ’em not to beat it, but Van Horn -just got a canoe, and they all took it down to -the lake to christen it.”</p> -<p>“They did, eh? Well, they’ll have to learn -that they can’t run away like this when their -duty is still to be done. Here, let me take a turn -at that, Lefty. When you’re rested, you can -chop some more ice. Huh! If you hadn’t stuck -to the job, the camp would be missing its dessert -this noon, all right!”</p> -<p>The leader grappled with the freezer. Brick -turned to his chopping once more, and at the -sound of his ax, McNulty looked over toward -the wood-pile and saw him.</p> -<p>“Oh, Brick! I guess you’ve served your time. -Do me a favor, will you?”</p> -<p>“Sure, Sax. What do you want?” replied -Brick, sinking the ax blade into the chopping -block.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_63">63</div> -<p>“Chase down to the lake and head off that -bunch of runaways. Tell ’em to come right back -and finish what they started, before playing -around with canoes and things.”</p> -<p>Brick needed no urging. He wanted to see -what would happen at the lake shore. By this -time, the canoe was no doubt already in the -water. He ran off down the hillside in a bee-line -for the dock. Behind the lower row of tents he -sped, across the stone wall, and cut across the -edge of the baseball field to the grove of trees -that fringed the rocky lake shore. Here he -almost tumbled over the bent backs of Wally -Rawn, director of water sports and captain of -the camp life-saving crew, and the seven boys -who made up his tent-group. Rawn had chosen -as his squad duty the task of repairing the steps -that led down the steep bank to the dock; and -Brick had to circle around the busy group to -gain the edge of the lake where the boat dock -jutted out from the shore.</p> -<p>Here, in the shallows of the bathing beach, the -<i>Sachem</i> was already afloat, riding high above the -rippling, shadowed waters of Lenape. She was -held at one end by the proud Dirk, while the -other boys gazed admiringly at her daintiness, -that made the moored string of round-bottomed -steel rowboats of the camp fleet look like clumsy -craft indeed.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_64">64</div> -<p>“Watch me get in her!” Dirk was shouting -in a high voice. “Let me paddle her around a -bit, and then maybe I’ll take you all for a ride!”</p> -<p>He drew the light vessel close beside the flooring -of the dock, and balancing the paddles in one -hand, started to step into the bow. Brick clattered -on to the end of the pier.</p> -<p>“Say, you fellows!” he began. “Sax says to -come back on the job right away. He’s pretty -mad, too—you’re not supposed to sneak off -squad duty.”</p> -<p>Dirk turned upon him coldly. “Don’t be -foolish, Ryan. Can’t you see we’re busy christening -the <i>Sachem</i>? If you don’t make a fuss, I’ll -take you for a little spin after a while.”</p> -<p>“But——”</p> -<p>The blond boy was not listening. He was -too much interested in making his maiden trip in -the newly-launched crimson canoe. Teetering -precariously, he stepped into the bobbing bow. -Before he could clutch the piles of the dock to -hold the craft steady, the <i>Sachem</i> sheered off -and, overburdened by the standing figure at one -end, began rocking dangerously from side to -side. Dirk swayed, trying to keep his balance as -a wave slapped the dancing vessel.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_65">65</div> -<p>“Sit down!” shouted Nig Jackson. “Look -out, she’ll turn over!”</p> -<p>Dirk, alarmed, dropped the paddles overside -and grabbed at the gunwale to keep himself from -following them into the shallow waters of the -beach. In sudden panic, he scrambled to a seat; -but it was too late. The <i>Sachem</i> heeled over -across the wind; a sheet of water slid easily over -the low side, slapped the light canoe to leeward, -and dipped it once more below the surface. -Water filled half the interior, sloshing about and -rocking so that still more water was taken over -the gunwale. Dirk gripped the seat desperately, -trying to right the canoe; but his efforts were -now of no avail.</p> -<p>Slowly, steadily, the <i>Sachem</i> sank to rest on -the pebbled shallows beneath the surface of the -lake, and Dirk Van Horn, with a comic look of -amazement on his face, found himself sitting -waist-deep in the water with his lovely possession -beneath him, out of sight.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_66">66</div> -<h2 id="c6"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER VI</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">FIGHT! FIGHT!</span></h2> -<p>Brick burst out in a cry of derision.</p> -<p>“Sunk!” he roared. “You sure scuttled -yourself, all right! You don’t know any more -about canoes than a baby! The Prince of -Whales, that’s what you look like!” The other -boys joined in laughing at the joke.</p> -<p>Dirk still sat helplessly in the sunken canoe, -his mouth half open. He didn’t know a boat -could act like that. His clothes were drenched. -He had thought he was making a brave show, -pushing out boldly in his fine canoe, and now -they were all laughing at him for a lubber.</p> -<p>He scrambled out somehow, and splashed -about in the shallow water, dragging the water-filled -craft to the land beside the rock. A shout -was heard, and a man came galloping down -through the trees. It was Wally Rawn, who had -witnessed the performance from the hillside, but -who had arrived too late to stop it.</p> -<p>“You there, with the canoe!” he hailed. -“What’s your name?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_67">67</div> -<p>“He’s Van Horn, the Prince of Whales!” -put in Brick. “Old Sink-Easy, the boy sailor—that’s -him!”</p> -<p>“Well, Van Horn,” said Wally, looking down -at the sodden, crestfallen figure, “stop trying -to pull off that canoe’s bottom by dragging it on -those rocks, and listen to me. I could see in a -minute that you don’t know the first thing about -a canoe. Where did it come from, anyway?”</p> -<p>“It’s mine,” stammered Dirk. “My father -gave it to me.”</p> -<p>“H’mm. Well, before you can go out paddling -in it, you’ll have to learn how to treat it. -And you’ll have to learn how to step into it -without sinking the poor thing. In the first -place, you ought to know that this is no time for -campers to go boating—when squad-duty period -is over, and you have reported to whoever is in -charge here at the dock, you might be given -permission to go out. In the second place, no -boy is allowed to take out a canoe unless he has -passed his swimming and boat tests. You -haven’t done that, I know.”</p> -<p>“Well, you see, sir, I just wanted to try the -canoe and see how it looked in the water——”</p> -<p>Wally shook his head impatiently. “Look -here, Van Horn—can you swim?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_68">68</div> -<p>“Why, no, sir. That is, only a little——”</p> -<p>“Whew! This beats me!” The councilor -scratched his head, and turned to the other boys. -“Isn’t there anybody here who has any sense? -Here a new boy comes down without a leader, -and without knowing how to swim, puts a canoe -in the water and sinks it under him! Suppose -you had launched it from the end of the dock, -Van Horn, where the deep water is—what would -you have done if you had gone over then? That’s -the reason we have canoe tests—so a boy won’t -go out unless he can take care of himself in the -water, no matter what happens. Now, lift that -canoe on the dock, drain the water out, and leave -it to dry. Then get back to your work. When -we have swimming instruction tomorrow morning, -come down and I’ll try to show you how -to swim. It will be several days before you -know enough even to take out a rowboat; but -if you work hard, maybe I can teach you how -to take care of yourself and your canoe. That’s -all.” He turned on his heel and went back to -his work.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_69">69</div> -<p>Sheepishly, Dirk obeyed, and with the help of -his grinning comrades, drew the canoe on the -dock and tilted it so that it would drain. Then -Dirk once more waded about, rescuing the drifting -paddles he had lost. At last, dripping and -downcast, he joined the others. Brick looked at -him with a wry grin.</p> -<p>“Well, if you’re not a sweet sight! It’ll be a -long while before your old canoe gets another -bath, believe me. She’ll be laid up until you pass -your canoe tests—and you can’t even swim! -The Prince of Whales!”</p> -<p>“Aw, let him alone, Brick,” put in Slim -Yerkes. “We should get back and help with -that ice-cream.”</p> -<p>“You can bet you should! Sax is sure mad. -Well, if the Prince is ready, let’s go.”</p> -<p>The group straggled up through the trees. -Dirk stalked along, saying not a word; but Brick -did not give him a chance to forget his misadventure. -Instead, he kept up a running stream -of ridicule that would have penetrated a skin -much thicker than Dirk’s. Something of the -bully still remained in Brick Ryan, even though -he had spent three summers at Lenape; and now -it came out in his words. Besides, he was still -smarting from the punishment he had been given -for his midnight hazing escapade, and he did not -intend to let the despised tattler get off easily.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_70">70</div> -<p>They skirted the lower corner of the baseball -field, and, crossing the wall, entered the meadow -below the campus. Brick had not stopped jeering -all the while, and now his remarks were growing -more and more cutting.</p> -<p>“Yeah, a baby, that’s all you are—a tattle-tale, -canoe-sinkin’ baby. I haven’t forgotten -what happened last night, and I’ll fix you for it, -too, Baby.”</p> -<p>For the first time, Dirk replied to the irksome -words. He stopped, turned, and spoke with his -head up.</p> -<p>“Ryan,” he said deliberately, “you’re a -mucker.”</p> -<p>Brick stuck out his chin, and put his hands on -his hips mockingly. “Oh, I am, huh? Did you -hear that, boys? F. X. A. Ryan is a mucker! -Dear, dear, it must be true—the Millionaire -Baby says so! Well, what are you goin’ to do -about it, Baby?”</p> -<p>Dirk refused to lose his temper. “I shan’t -listen to all your talk any longer, that’s all. -From now on, please don’t speak to me unless -it’s necessary. If we can’t be friends, we’d better -keep apart.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_71">71</div> -<p>“Dear, dear! Now he won’t speak to me! -My heart is breakin’, boys!” Quickly Brick -dropped his mocking tone, and his next words -were threatening. He scowled fiercely into the -face of his enemy. “Now, listen, you! I hate -sissies, and I hate tattle-tales, and if you don’t -like the way I talk, you may wake up with a -ring around your eye, and a lily in your hand!”</p> -<p>Slim Yerkes tried to interpose. “Come on, -Brick—don’t pick on him too much. Let’s get -back to the lodge.”</p> -<p>Brick wheeled on the peacemaker. “He’s -lookin’ for trouble, Slim, and he’s more than -likely to get it. I’ve got half a mind to poke -him one right now for good luck.”</p> -<p>Dirk’s eyes flashed. “That might not be as -easy as you seem to think!”</p> -<p>“Huh! Tough, aren’t you?” His open hand -darted out swiftly, and unexpectedly shoved -Dirk off his balance. Dirk cried out, caught -himself, and his fists clenched. He was pale save -for two red spots that glowed in his cheeks.</p> -<p>“That’s enough, Ryan!” he said, his lip trembling. -“If you really must settle this by -scuffling like a street boy, who—— I’ll fight -you!”</p> -<p>Brick’s laugh was unpleasant to hear. “He’ll -fight! Listen, sissies like you take a chance on -gettin’ murdered if they talk fight to Brick -Ryan! Why, you mama’s boy, I’ll knock you -so cold you’ll think you’re at the North Pole!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_72">72</div> -<p>His words were louder than he thought. From -a tent a hundred yards away, a tousled head appeared, -and shouted something to those within -the tent. “Fight! Fight!” In no time at all, -the two Utway twins, followed by Al Canning, -had run down from the tent and joined the little -ring of boys from Tent One.</p> -<p>Dirk was silently peeling off his wet gym-shirt.</p> -<p>“You’re really going to go against Brick -Ryan?” Slim Yerkes asked in astonishment.</p> -<p>“I’m not to blame,” responded Dirk shortly. -“It’s his lookout.”</p> -<p>Brick, a grim smile on his pugnacious face, -was secretly sizing up the lad whom he had -driven by taunting words to defend himself with -his fists. He was not quite so sure, now, that -Dirk was the sissy he had proclaimed him to be; -those shoulders and arms looked quite husky and -muscular, now that he looked closely. Brick -decided that the thing to do was to pitch in at -once and overpower his opponent from the start.</p> -<p>Jerry Utway was looking around the circle -eagerly. The Utway brothers were never far -away when a scrap arose; it would seem that -they smelled the signs of battle from afar. -“Gee, Jake!” he exclaimed, “the Van Horn -fellow is going to tackle Brick! I’m going to be -his second!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_73">73</div> -<p>“And I’ll be Brick’s second,” responded his -twin. “Come on, men, form a ring here. Let’s -have this scrap with regular rules. Al, you can -be referee. It’s a good thing no leaders are -around to stop it!”</p> -<p>Al Canning pulled out his watch. “Are you -ready?”</p> -<p>“Just a minute more,” answered Jake. -“Come on, Brick, strip off your shirt. Gosh, -this will be a real fight—bare knuckles to the -finish!”</p> -<p>Brick shook him aside. “Aw, I won’t need -anything like that. It’ll take me just one good -smack to finish this fight. He’s a coward.” But -inwardly Brick was not so sure. Dirk Van -Horn had said nothing since he had issued his -amazing challenge. He had calmly prepared for -the fray, and stood waiting quietly with no sign -of fear on his set features. He did not cower in -fright, or try to bolster up his courage with a -string of biting words; and there was nothing -amateurish about his pose as he stood with his -clenched fists hanging loosely at his sides.</p> -<p>“I am ready,” he said in answer to a question -from the eager Jerry.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_74">74</div> -<p>“Good,” said Al. “When I say ‘Time!’, -you can start. All set? Time!”</p> -<p>At the summons, Brick Ryan plunged forward -over the grassy ground, fists doubled, head -down, and struck a sweeping blow at his enemy. -To his surprise, his flailing arm landed on thin -air. Dirk had side-stepped easily, and still stood -with his arms hanging loosely at his side, his face -still calm.</p> -<p>Brick whirled about and spat. “Come on and -fight, will you? None of this duckin’ like a -snake. And you guys get back, so I can have -some room.” He plunged again at his foe, and -aimed a second wide swing at Dirk’s face.</p> -<p>This time Dirk did not dodge. Instead, he -parried with the palm of his left hand, and his -right fist shot forward, taking the surprised -Brick in the side. It was a stinging blow, and -Brick stepped back with a grunt. He had not -expected this. There were few boys at Lenape -who would dare to stand up against Brick Ryan -even in a friendly bout with gloves; yet here was -the despised Van Horn, the pampered city boy -who couldn’t even swim, not only defending -himself skillfully from the Irish lad’s attack, but -even striking back!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_75">75</div> -<p>The blow had made Brick more wary. This -time he did not leap in with his head down—too -much chance of getting caught off guard again -for those tactics! He circled cautiously, trying -to find an opening where a thrust would do most -good. His anger was rising, too. The breathless -watchers looked at his face, and waited -awestricken for the terrible moment when the -aroused Brick Ryan would wade in and demolish -his daring opponent.</p> -<p>Jerry Utway, his eyes ablaze with excitement, -jumped up and down, urging his champion with -delighted cries. “That’s the boy, Van Horn, -old scout! Wade in and tap him one!”</p> -<p>“Shut up, Jerry!” his brother Jake put in. -“Let them alone, or there’ll be two fights going -on here! Whee, look at that one! Go it, Brick!”</p> -<p>Brick was again in the lists, this time depending -upon speed and the violent fury of his attack. -It seemed to the onlookers that no one could long -withstand the force of his charge; his arms -whirled and jabbed, and his face was red with -the exertion of his onslaught. Indeed, Van -Horn was quickly driven backwards, and more -than once a doubled fist made its red mark on -his naked chest. But he still kept his feet, and -although he was given no chance to take the -offensive, he guarded his face skillfully. Yet -slowly he gave ground; Brick had maneuvered -about until he was above where the other stood, -and was driving him down the sloping hillside.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_76">76</div> -<p>Nig Jackson gave vent to a yell. “He’s got -him now! Go it, Brick! Wow, he’s down!”</p> -<p>Al Canning, in his capacity as referee, rushed -forward. Dirk was sprawled out upon the uneven -ground, crouched on one side. His face -was whiter than ever.</p> -<p>“Slipped on some grass,” he mumbled through -swollen lips. “I—I’m all right.” Unaided, he -staggered to his feet, and looked about in a dazed -way. Brick, who had stepped aside when his -foe had fallen, now advanced confidently for the -final sortie.</p> -<p>“Finish him off, Brick!” yelled Eddie Scolter. -Ryan, encouraged by the shouts of the -watchers, marched slowly and triumphantly to a -stand just beyond arm’s length of where Dirk -stood, dazedly shaking the sweat from his eyes.</p> -<p>“Had enough?” Brick taunted. His blows -had taken effect in more than one place on Dirk’s -face and body, and one shoulder was badly -scraped by his fall. But Brick himself did not -go unmarked from the fray; his cheek was coloring -where a clenched fist had got through his -guard, and his right arm was weak from panting -effort.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_77">77</div> -<p>Dirk Van Horn clenched his teeth without -answering. For an instant, the watching boys -saw a stab of fury flare up in his dark eyes. He -set his feet, held his head high, and his arms -swung into the guard position.</p> -<p>Brick advanced still one further step. “Had -enough, Baby? I won’t ask you again. If -you’ll apologize, I won’t hurt you any more -today——”</p> -<p>He was too close for his own safety. Dirk -grunted as he shot his arm forward in a telling -blow straight from the shoulder. His bunched -knuckles caught the surprised Brick on the point -of the jaw.</p> -<p>A ludicrous look of amazement came over -Brick Ryan’s face. For an instant he tottered, -grinning stupidly at the staring circle of boys; -then, with a soft groan, he slid backward, his -knees gave way gently, and he slumped senseless -upon the ground.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_78">78</div> -<h2 id="c7"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER VII</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">THE RED HAND REVENGERS</span></h2> -<p>“Ten!” counted Al Canning. “Van Horn -wins with a sweet knockout!”</p> -<p>“Yay, Handsome Van, the K. O. Kid!” cried -Jerry Utway, hammering his champion upon the -back. “Gee, what a beautiful swat that was!”</p> -<p>Brick Ryan opened his eyes. His head was -still spinning from the force of the blow that -had vanquished him. As through a mist he -could see the dim faces of the boys about his -prostrate form. Among them stood out the -triumphant, smiling features of Dirk Van Horn.</p> -<p>A hand shook his shoulder, and Jake Utway -spoke in his ear. “Are you all right now, Brick? -Tough luck. He sure packs a wallop!”</p> -<p>Brick tried to grin, and groaned in spite of -himself. His jaw still ached mightily where his -antagonist’s doubled fist had struck, and his -swollen lower lip was bleeding slightly.</p> -<p>“I have to hand it to him,” he mumbled, and -with Jake’s help clambered unsteadily to his feet.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_79">79</div> -<p>“Gollies, how did he do it? It was as clean a -knockout as I ever seen.”</p> -<p>“Well, you were asking for it,” observed Slim -Yerkes.</p> -<p>“I guess I was.” Brick smiled ruefully. -“Van Horn, I guess we’ve been gettin’ each -other wrong. There may be some things about -campin’ that you don’t know, but when it comes -to scrappin’——! Say, you beat me square, but -I don’t hold any grudge. From now on, let’s -forget everything and be friends. What do you -say?” He held out his hand in a frank gesture.</p> -<p>Dirk looked at the outstretched hand, and his -lip curled slightly.</p> -<p>“Ryan,” he said deliberately, “I said you -were a mucker, and I still think so. Any time -you want another boxing lesson, come around. -Otherwise, kindly keep to your own affairs and -leave me to mine.” He pointedly turned his -back, picked up his wet shirt, and stalked off up -the path to the lodge.</p> -<p>Brick bit his lip, and his hand dropped with -an angry gesture to his side; but he said nothing. -Jerry Utway left the group and ran after Dirk, -catching up with him and walking at a fast pace -by his side.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_80">80</div> -<p>“Hey, Van, will you show me some time how -you made that knockout? I want to try it out -on my brother next time we have a row. Gee, -if anybody had told me you could put out Brick -Ryan’s lights, I wouldn’t have believed it! -Where did you learn how to fight like that?”</p> -<p>“My father has seen to it that I had the best -boxing lessons that money could buy.” Dirk -smiled grimly. “Yesterday Ryan seemed to -think that having money wasn’t of much value; -but I hope that now he has learned that scientific -self-defense is a good thing to acquire. And -because my father could pay for those boxing -lessons, I don’t have to be bullied by any street-boy -that comes along.”</p> -<p>“It sure did make Brick sit up and take -notice,” chuckled Jerry. “But why didn’t you -make up with him afterward?”</p> -<p>“It’s not so easy. He hazed me pretty badly -last night, and I’m not done with him yet.”</p> -<p>“But Brick is a pretty good fellow when you -get to know him. Why don’t you——” Jerry -broke off, and cocked his ear as bugle-notes rattled -down from the porch of the lodge. “Say, -we better hurry—there goes Church Call.” He -glanced with amusement at the battered features -and wet, stained garments of the boy at his side. -“Gosh, you sure are a sight! You and Brick -Ryan will look like a swell pair, sitting on a -bench together at church this morning!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_81">81</div> -<p>Dirk was quite late for church. He went to -the empty tent, washed, and changed his wet -clothing for garments more suitable for Sunday -service; and the hour of camp worship was more -than half over by the time he slipped into a log -seat in the woodland chapel overlooking the lake. -Brick was down at the front with the rest of the -complement of Tent One, but did not turn his -head. One or two boys near by looked at Dirk’s -marked face curiously, and Jake Utway once -caught his eye, winked, and grinned from behind -a hymn-book.</p> -<p>During the bountiful Sunday dinner in the -lodge, Dirk, sitting with his councilor on one side -of him and Nig Jackson on the other, intercepted -many inquiring glances directed from -neighboring tables toward himself and Brick -Ryan. The red-headed boy, for his part, ate -with his head down, saying nothing. If Sax -McNulty had heard of the fight, he gave no sign.</p> -<p>When dessert was served, Sax looked whimsically -at the plate of ice-cream before him.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_82">82</div> -<p>“Your consciences ought to hurt you -slackers,” he observed. “If Lefty hadn’t stuck -to his guns, the camp would be missing their ice-cream -today, all right. I’ve never had my squad -sneak out on a job before. What do you fellows -think about it?”</p> -<p>Dirk Van Horn felt the leader’s eyes upon -him. He flushed and tried to look unconcerned; -but the ice-cream, for some reason, stuck in his -throat, and he soon pushed the plate away, to -melt into a shapeless mass.</p> -<p>When the time came for announcements, Dr. -Cannon, who was officer of the day, awarded the -pennant for highest points in inspection to Wally -Rawn’s tent; then, with a grin, marched over to -the Tent One table and, amid the good-natured -jeers of the assembled campers, presented a -different sort of emblem. It was a big tin oil-can, -across which was printed in white letters: -“Booby.”</p> -<p>“Tent One wins the Goof Loving Cup,” the -doctor announced with a flourish, “for being -lowest in honor points for today. And the first -shall be last!”</p> -<p>“What’s that for, Sax?” Eddie Scolter asked, -pointing to the strange object.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_83">83</div> -<p>“It means we have to hang that up on our -tent-pole in full sight, so everybody in camp can -see we’re a bunch of dubs,” explained the leader, -with a glance around the table. “And that’s -just what we’ve been today. Van Horn, you -may have the privilege of carrying this little -token down to the tent.”</p> -<p>Dirk opened his mouth to protest, but the -whistle sounded just then, and the campers -leaped to their feet and began pouring out the -doors. Picking up the loathed booby-can, Dirk -started walking down toward the tent. He had -not gone far when he felt a hand on his arm, and -he looked up, frowning, to see Sax McNulty’s -serious face.</p> -<p>“I didn’t say anything at the table just now,” -began the leader, “but of course you know -you’re to blame for most of our demerits today. -I’m afraid you’re not getting off to a very good -start at Lenape, Van.”</p> -<p>“Why blame me for everything?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_84">84</div> -<p>“Well, I don’t, exactly. The other fellows -should have known better than to drop their duty -and help you launch your canoe this morning—but -you’ll have to admit you were the main cause -of it. Then, Wally Rawn told me about your -fool stunt at the lake. Also, and moreover, when -the inspection staff came around this noon, our -tent was cluttered up with your things strewn -all over the place, wet clothes dumped on the -floor—plenty demerits. You’ll have to learn not -to do the first thing that enters your head, Van -Horn—you’ll have to think of the other fellow, -and consider what will be for the good of the -camp and your own gang. I haven’t mentioned -anything about your fight with Ryan, but——”</p> -<p>“He started that!” retorted Dirk.</p> -<p>“I won’t interfere there,” promised McNulty -gently. “Ryan is a decent chap, and so are you; -and I know that after a couple of days you will -get along together fine. Try to get his point of -view. We’ve got a fine bunch of fellows in Tent -One this time, and as soon as we get to pulling -together, we’re going to show Lenape some -speed! I didn’t mean to make you listen to another -sermon today,” he ended wryly, “and I -don’t expect you to learn everything about camping -in a few hours. Come to me next time you -feel the urge to do something startling, and I’ll -try to put you wise first.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_85">85</div> -<p>Dirk smarted under the words, but held back -the bitter reply that rose to his lips. He -slammed the booby-can on a nail sticking into -the front tent-pole, and retired sulkily to his -untidy bunk. The other boys, with the exception -of the two who were doing the dishes, -were stretched about, taking a restful siesta after -their bountiful dinner. Across from Dirk sat -Brick Ryan, busied as usual over his life-saving -manual, and apparently unaware that there was -anybody named Van Horn within a thousand -miles of him. For the first time, Dirk noticed -that Brick wore a curious insignia stitched to the -front of his jersey. It was outlined in green and -white, and showed a large L superimposed upon -a swastika. Dirk’s eyes passed to Lefty Reardon. -Lefty also wore the green L.</p> -<p>Dirk decided that the camp monogram would -look most attractive on one of his sweaters. He -jumped up, and hurried back to the lodge before -the small camp store closed.</p> -<p>On the porch of the lodge, a short string of -boys stood before the window, waiting their turn -to make small purchases of candy, peanuts, and -gum. Dirk joined the end of the line. When -he came abreast of the window, he issued his -demand.</p> -<p>“I want one of those camp letters to put on -my sweater.”</p> -<p>Long Jim Avery, the lanky councilor charged -with the duty of looking after the camp supplies, -leaned far over the counter and looked at the boy -with astonishment.</p> -<p>“You want what?” he asked with widening -eyes.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_86">86</div> -<p>“Oh, you know what I mean, sir—one of -those green and white things with an L on them. -I want to buy one.”</p> -<p>The boy in back of Dirk snickered. Long Jim -gulped.</p> -<p>“Somebody’s trying to play a joke on you, -Van Horn. Why, I thought even a new boy -knew that you can’t buy an honor emblem!”</p> -<p>Dirk flushed. “But—some of the chaps have -them. Where do you get them, then?”</p> -<p>“My, my! You can’t buy one—you have to -earn it, and then it’s awarded to you at Council -Ring. That’s a good one! Why, before you -have the right to wear an honor emblem, you -have to pass a lot of tests—you have to know a -bunch of trees and birds and flowers and rocks -and stars, and how to swim and handle a boat, -and hike and cook and build woodcraft objects, -and—oh, lots of things! Here, I’ll get you a -card with all the requirements printed on it, and -when you pass a test, the leader who passes you -will put his initials down. Campers have a -chance to pass the tests all the time. If I can -help you learn some of the things, come around.”</p> -<p>“Never mind,” stammered Dirk miserably, -backing away. “I didn’t know—— I guess I -don’t want to start in right now.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_87">87</div> -<p>He stumbled off down the steps. They were -making fun of him again! The boys would -spread the story around—how he had tried to -buy an honor emblem at the store—and soon the -whole camp would be laughing at his latest fool -stunt! No matter what he started to do at -Lenape, it always turned out to be the wrong -thing! Now McNulty would have more of his -comments to make!</p> -<p>Dirk was feeling very sorry for himself. Tears -of helpless rage welled into his eyes, and he did -not see that someone was standing in front of -him until he heard his name called in a mysterious -whisper.</p> -<p>“Psst! Van Horn! Say, I want to see you -a second!”</p> -<p>Dirk looked up. The speaker was a runty-looking -boy with a large nose and close-set black -eyes. He took Dirk’s arm with a familiar gesture, -and patted him on the back.</p> -<p>“Say, I want to tell you. I heard about how -you licked Red Ryan. Gee, that was swell! I -wish I’d seen you do it!”</p> -<p>“How did you know about it?” asked Dirk.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_88">88</div> -<p>“Why, everybody in camp knows about it! -You’re a hero, that’s what you are! A real tough -fighter, you must be! There are lots of guys in -this camp that don’t like Ryan, and are glad he -got it good at last! Say, we don’t want anybody -to notice I’m talkin’ to you, see? Come on, duck -in here and I’ll tell you somethin’ real important!”</p> -<p>“What do you want? Why can’t you tell me -here?”</p> -<p>“It’s too secret, see? Quick—slide in here.”</p> -<p>Dirk, fearing some new pitfall, followed suspiciously; -but the mysterious manner of the big-nosed -little fellow impressed him in spite of -himself, and he allowed himself to be drawn -under the shadow of the overhanging porch of -the lodge. Here several small rooms had been -built—a dark-room for the convenience of the -camp photographers, and a larger compartment -in which were stored trunks, suitcases, old tents, -and the like. Through the door of the latter -room he followed his guide, who shut that door -carefully and then sat on a pile of lumber.</p> -<p>“Don’t talk too loud, see?” he warned Dirk. -“We don’t want nobody to guess what we’re -after.”</p> -<p>“Well, what are you after anyway?” Dirk -asked impatiently. “Who are you, and why are -you acting so mysterious about everything?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_89">89</div> -<p>“My name’s Blum,” the other whispered -hoarsely. “‘Dumb’ Blum, the guys call me, -but that’s only a nickname—I’m not so dumb as -most people think. Now, listen. You’ve got it -in for Brick Ryan, haven’t you?”</p> -<p>“Well, we haven’t got along together so far. -But what has that to do with you?”</p> -<p>“You’ll see! And you don’t like Sax McNulty -any too well, do you? He bawled you out -pretty heavy a little while ago, didn’t he?”</p> -<p>“How did you know?”</p> -<p>“I know lots of things!” the other chuckled. -“Some people in this camp are not treatin’ you -right, Van! But me and some other guys can -see what a swell feller you are, and we’re ready -to help you.”</p> -<p>“Help me to do what?”</p> -<p>“Revenge! That’s what! How would you -like it if you could get back at everybody that -ever does anything to you around here? Brick -Ryan, for instance—if somethin’ pretty terrible -happened to him, nobody would guess who done -it; but you could laugh up your sleeve all the -time!”</p> -<p>Dirk looked puzzled. “What are you driving -at?”</p> -<p>A malicious laugh answered him.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_90">90</div> -<p>“I got a gang. We do pretty well what we -like around this camp, and if anybody don’t like -it—even leaders, or even the Chief himself—why, -they’re good and sorry for it! We have meetings -in the middle of the night, and we sign the -oath with our own blood, and swear that if anybody -hurts any one of us, why, we get revenge! -We go under the secret name of the Red Hand -Revengers, and we want you to join with us, -see?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_91">91</div> -<h2 id="c8"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER VIII</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">SHENANIGANS FOR BRICK</span></h2> -<p>It didn’t seem a bad idea, the way Blum put -it. The Red Hand Revengers, with their -mysterious meetings in the dead of night, their -oaths of blood brotherhood, and their secret -signs and deeds of vengeance against those who -thwarted them, sounded most exciting. Even -before the leader of this mystic society had finished -speaking, Dirk Van Horn had made up -his mind.</p> -<p>“I’ll join!” he declared. “What do I have -to do?”</p> -<p>“Oh, you won’t need to be initiated,” Blum -assured him. “We’ll have our first meeting tonight -after taps, and you can meet the rest of -the guys. We all wear masks over our faces, and -have secret names. My Revenger name is——Swear -on your heart and liver you won’t tell -anybody?”</p> -<p>“Yes, I swear.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_92">92</div> -<p>“Well, I’m known as the Headless Green -Dragon, see? When you send me a secret note, -always draw a picture of a headless dragon, and -I’ll know it’s for me. If you want to, you can -be the Silent Dagger, or anything like that——I -know! How about Iron Gauntlet, on account -of the way you knocked out Brick?”</p> -<p>“All right. That sounds splendid. And I’ll -bring a watermelon to the meeting tonight. My -father brought it up to give to the other fellows -in the tent, but they don’t deserve it. And -listen——”</p> -<p>“Yeah?”</p> -<p>“I’ll write home and have my mother send up -a big box of cake and candy and stuff, just for -the Revengers!” said Dirk. “And when they let -me use my canoe, we’ll all go out in it, and——”</p> -<p>“No!” objected Blum. “Don’t forget we -mustn’t be seen together! When I want to get -in touch with you, I’ll leave a note under your -pillow. Now, we’ll have to separate pretty -quick. I’ll get you when everybody is asleep tonight, -and we’ll have our first meeting. You -stay here a couple minutes after I leave, so -nobody will guess what we’re up to. And right -today, Iron Gauntlet, old revenger, we’ll start -putting the Red Curse on that varlet Brick -Ryan!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_93">93</div> -<p>Blum, master of the sinister Red Hand, tip-toed -to the door.</p> -<p>“So long, Headless Green Dragon!” Dirk -whispered after him.</p> -<p>That night Brick Ryan returned from Indian -Council Ring to find the first of his troubles -upon him. The campers had been summoned to -their quarters after an evening spent about the -four-square fire of friendship, and by the light of -the tent lantern, the inhabitants of Tent One -were undressing for the night. Brick Ryan -slipped into his pajamas and turned down his -blankets, ready to jump in. An angry cry -escaped him.</p> -<p>“What’s the matter, Brick?” asked Lefty -Reardon sleepily.</p> -<p>“Somebody’s hashed my bunk, that’s what!” -the Irish boy exclaimed. “Look there, will you? -The whole bed is stuck full of cockleburrs! I -can’t sleep in it!”</p> -<p>“Gee, that’s too bad,” said his friend sympathetically. -“Here, I’ll help you pull ’em out. -Sax will be back in a few minutes—why don’t -you tell him about it? What a dirty trick to -play on a fellow!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_94">94</div> -<p>“If I knew who did it, I sure wouldn’t have -to tell a leader about it!” said Brick through -clenched teeth. He looked about in the dull light -at the faces of his mates. All of them looked -innocent; Dirk Van Horn looked suspiciously -so, and there was a faint trace of a smile on -his good-looking features. Could Van Horn -have——? But the heartless trick must have -been done during Council, and Dirk had been -sitting in his place every moment of the time.</p> -<p>“Somebody must have it in for you, Brick,” -commented Lefty as the two bent over the blankets -and began pulling out the prickly burrs with -which they were covered. “Gee, this is going -to be a long, slow job. Who do you suppose -hates you so much that he’d do a mean thing -like this to you?”</p> -<p>“I don’t know,” admitted Brick. “But I’m -sure going to find out, and when I do, you can -bet he’ll get paid back for his low, sneaking -work!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_95">95</div> -<p>Brick slept but poorly that night, for it had -been impossible to remove all the sharp, pin-like -burrs with which his blankets had been coated. -He tossed and turned, and kept finding new -spines that had penetrated through the woolen -mass to irritate him. Muttering to himself, he -at last drifted off to sleep. Later, he awoke for -a moment, and looked across the tent, where -some unseen person was crawling back into his -bunk; but he thought nothing of it, and in the -morning had forgotten all about it.</p> -<p>The morning was cloudy, and a cool wind -swept down from the northeast. When Brick -piled out of his uncomfortable bedclothes at -Reveille, he thrust his feet into his shoes, as usual. -But the state of those shoes was far from usual. -Brick let out a yell of rage. His shoes were -brim-full of icy water, and the strings were -knotted a dozen times. He had to hurry to -setting-up drill barefoot over the rough ground; -and to crown it all, his bathrobe was missing, and -he shivered in the raw breeze until he caught -sight of the garment hung in a pine tree far -below the parade ground. And he found that -when he went to brush his teeth before breakfast, -his tooth-paste tube had been stuffed with soap; -but he did not find out until his mouth was burning -with the choking stuff, and he was frothing -and blowing sudsy bubbles, much to the delight -of two small boys who scrubbed away beside him. -He washed out his mouth, but the vile taste -remained until long after the morning meal.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_96">96</div> -<p>Brick began to wonder if he were bewitched. -What was the meaning of this series of afflictions? -He could find no trace of whoever had -committed these acts. If it was Dirk Van Horn, -he covered it up pretty well. Besides, why -should Van Horn resort to such stealthy tricks, -the acts of a cowardly soul? Van Horn had -fought him the day before, and won fairly; why -should he now begin a campaign of cockleburrs, -watered shoes, and soapy tooth-paste?</p> -<p>The bewildered Brick spoke to his friend -Lefty about it when the two were walking up -from morning swim.</p> -<p>“And when I got back after breakfast, I -found a big hoptoad in my clothes locker,” he -concluded, “and nobody was around but a little -kid from Tent Seven. Who do you suppose it -can be, Lefty? How long will it go on? I -swear, I’m about ready to soak somebody in the -nose if I catch him getting into my things. Am -I haunted, or what?”</p> -<p>“You are,” agreed Lefty promptly. “You’re -haunted by some sneaking coward who is trying -to get your goat. Van Horn fought you fair -yesterday, didn’t he?” he went on in a matter-of-fact -tone.</p> -<p>“Sure. I didn’t mind that. But the Millionaire -Baby, although he has some crazy ideas, -wouldn’t stoop to those tricks, I guess.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_97">97</div> -<p>“If he did, he wouldn’t stand a show of getting -on the baseball team, Shawnee game or no -Shawnee game,” said Lefty. “As long as I’m -captain, we’ll have only square-shooters playing -for Lenape. You comin’ down for practice this -afternoon, eh?”</p> -<p>“You bet, if my glove hasn’t been stolen by -that time. I swear, Lefty, I’m gettin’ so I’m -scared to turn around, for fear somebody will -swipe my pants when I’m not lookin’! But, -say, do you think this Van Horn guy is really -baseball material?”</p> -<p>Lefty shrugged. “We’ll try him out. Goodness -knows we can’t pass up any promising -players, when we only have today and tomorrow -to get ready for the Shawnee game. I hear -Shawnee has got back Hook Bollard and Widelle -this year, and that catcher of theirs—what’s his -name?—that made three runs last time we played -them. If Lenape wants to take the best end of -the score on Wednesday, we’ve got to show some -steam!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_98">98</div> -<p>When the announcements were made at lunch, -Lefty Reardon rose and read a list of names of -the campers who had been chosen to form the -team that would defend Lenape’s honor on the -baseball diamond on the following Wednesday. -On that day, the whole of Lenape would trek -northward to the shores of Iron Lake for a visit -to their rival, Camp Shawnee. The crowning -event of the day would be a ball game between -the two camp teams, thus renewing a yearly -custom of friendly sportsmanship. Lenape had -been badly beaten the season before, and among -the campers there was much talk of the coming -encounter, and predictions that this time they -would pay back the old score with a rousing victory.</p> -<p>Dirk Van Horn noted with disappointment -that his name was not among those called; but -no sooner had Lefty seated himself than he -turned to Dirk and said: “Say, Van, I hear -you’re supposed to be a fielder. If you want to -come down to the diamond with the rest of the -team, we’ll try you out and see if we can find a -place for you.”</p> -<p>“Sure, try out!” urged Sax McNulty. “You -were on your prep school team, weren’t you, -Van?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_99">99</div> -<p>Dirk nodded. “I’ll come down, sir.” He had -spent the morning lolling in his bunk with a -book of stories, and had disregarded Wally -Rawn’s offer to teach him to swim. Neither had -he made any move to join in the many other -activities of the camp routine. But baseball was -different, he felt; he knew and liked that sport -best of all, and had little doubt that with his -school training, he could hold a position on a -scratch team such as he thought the Lenape -squad to be.</p> -<p>When the bugle sounded recall, Dirk, resplendent -in a brand-new baseball suit and bearing -a well-oiled glove under his arm, sauntered -down to the field and reported to Captain Reardon, -who with Kipper Dabney was warming up -a few curves. Lefty slammed a sizzling drop -into Gil Shelton’s padded mitt, and turned to -Dirk with a nod.</p> -<p>“You can get out there with the bunch and -get under a few of those fungoes that Mullins -is knocking,” he directed, “and show us what -you can do. Later on, we’ll have batting practice -and you’ll have a chance to prove you can -hit.”</p> -<p>Dirk, with a confident smile, trotted out into -the tall grass behind third base, and for half an -hour, in company with Ollie Steffins, Blackie -Thorne, and a youngster named Tompkins, he -fielded lofty flies and grounders from Soapy -Mullins’ resounding bat. Now and then he -glanced at the other members of the squad. The -infielders were tossing the ball back and forth -with easy skill, and Brick Ryan, hovering over -first base, missed few of the shots that came near -his post.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_100">100</div> -<p>When the players were warmed up sufficiently, -they lined up one after another to face the -delivery of Captain Lefty and his relief pitcher, -Dabney. At last it came Dirk’s turn. He -selected a bat and approached the plate with a -cocky grin. Lefty, noting his short grip, thought -to teach this arrogant newcomer a little lesson, -and slipped over a neat inshoot that took him -up short.</p> -<p>“Strike!” called out Lieutenant Eames, -whose service on the West Point team qualified -him as volunteer umpire.</p> -<p>Dirk did not lengthen his grip; but when -Lefty sought to repeat his trick, he was ready -for it. As the whirling ball neared the plate, -Dirk stepped back a pace and his levelled bat -met the horsehide smartly. A clean single flew -through the infield well inside the lines and -through the fingers of Ken Haveland, who was -covering the domain of shortstop. The few -scattered spectators set up a quick shout of -approval.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_101">101</div> -<p>When the period of practice was over, Lefty -announced that there would be a short game with -a team of leaders the following afternoon; and -the players strolled in twos and threes back to -their tents to prepare for swim. Lefty, on his -way to the lodge burdened with bats and other -equipment, found Brick Ryan sitting on a bench -under a huge black cherry tree at the gate.</p> -<p>“Why so thoughtful?” Lefty hailed him. -“And by the way, where were you for batting -practice? You slipped off without telling me.”</p> -<p>“I had an idea,” responded his friend grimly.</p> -<p>“I see—and it gave you a headache.”</p> -<p>“No, it gave somebody else an ache, but not -in the head. I put a stop to all these shenanigans -that have been raisin’ cain with my belongin’s—at -least, I put a stop to them for a while, anyway. -I sneaked up on Tent One durin’ battin’ -practice. Not a soul was around, except that -nasty little Toby brat from Tent Eight. Do -you know, I caught him in the very act of -dumpin’ a pail of water right on my bed!”</p> -<p>“No!”</p> -<p>“Yes. I spanked him, Lefty.”</p> -<p>“But what would he do that for? What’s he -got against you?”</p> -<p>“Not a thing that I know of. It’s a mystery.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_102">102</div> -<p>Lefty threw back his head and laughed. -“Better not let young Sherlock Jones hear -about it,” he advised. “He’ll pester around with -clues until he’s dizzy. Well, I’m glad Van Horn -didn’t have anything to do with it. He was -down at the field all the while.”</p> -<p>“Well, he’s stretchin’ his bunk right now, -readin’ bedtime stories. How did he look in -there today?”</p> -<p>“Not bad. He’s a better fielder than Terry -Tompkins, that’s sure. And he’s fairly brainy -with a bat. Tomorrow we can see what he can -do against the councilors.”</p> -<p>Lefty picked up his equipment and started on. -He had only gone a few paces when Brick, who -had not moved, called after him in a low voice:</p> -<p>“Say, my son, what do you guess is the -meanin’ of R.H.R.?”</p> -<p>Lefty considered. “Why, it might be Red-Hot -Rhubarb, or Right-Handed Rattlesnake, or -anything. Why do you ask?”</p> -<p>“Nothin’,” muttered Brick. “But maybe tonight -I’ll find out, and if I do, Lefty me boy, -I’ll tell you all about it!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_103">103</div> -<h2 id="c9"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER IX</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">DIRK HEARS OF THE LONG TRAIL</span></h2> -<p>Six masked figures sat with their heads together -in the starlight of the deserted Council -Ring. It was late. Two hours gone, Camp -Lenape had retired to a rest welcome and well-earned. -But here in this lonely spot, their presence -unknown to their fellows and councilors, -the mysterious six plotted mischief. In the -shadow of the tall stone seat of the Chief, on the -north side of the ring, they crouched, listening to -the graveyard tones of their undersized leader.</p> -<p>“Brother Revengers, we will now have a -report from the Stealthy Stabber. He’s goin’ to -tell us all about the Ryan Curse affair, see? -Speak up, Stabber!”</p> -<p>“He walloped me!” spoke up a shrill voice, -more whimpering than bloodthirsty, and the -little fellow rubbed himself tenderly at the painful -memory.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_104">104</div> -<p>“And served you right, too!” put in a third -Revenger. “I didn’t know you were going as -far as you did. I think it was a bunch of -cowardly tricks—soaping up his tooth-paste and -trying to soak his blankets with a pail of water—and -if I had known, I wouldn’t have let it -happen!”</p> -<p>“Aw, say, Iron Gauntlet, old fellow,” whined -the leader; “you ain’t goin’ to back out like that, -are you? Why, Stabber and Red Rover and the -rest of us only did all this stuff to help you out!”</p> -<p>“I don’t need that sort of help, thank you,” -replied Iron Gauntlet, settling back in his place. -“It was mean, and from now on I want to tell -you that I——”</p> -<p>“What’s that?” cried a small lad to his right, -starting up in his place and listening fearfully. -The leader laughed sneeringly.</p> -<p>“Don’t get scared, kid. Ain’t the Headless -Green Dragon here to protect you? That was -only an owl hootin’. Gee, you guys are sure a -bunch of babies. A fine gang of Revengers you -turned out to be!”</p> -<p>“But it sounded pretty terrible, Dumb,” muttered -the lad, shivering. “I don’t like it here in -the woods—it’s too spooky! Suppose a bear or -something came after us!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_105">105</div> -<p>Dumb Blum laughed again. “No bears -around here. And even if there was, I guess -they wouldn’t bother me! Now, we got to figure -what to do next. If Iron Gauntlet here thinks -we ought to lay off Brick Ryan for a while, why, -there’s lot of other varlets around camp we could -torture—— Ooh! Look there!”</p> -<p>The bold master of the dread secret society -pointed a shaking hand. His small followers fell -back, several of them squealing with terror.</p> -<p>Dirk Van Horn looked in the direction at -which Blum was fearfully pointing. Above the -stone dais of the Chief before them rose a horrible -shapeless form, gleaming with unearthly -fire. Slowly, as they watched, rooted to the spot, -the monster stirred, the folds of its skin glowing -with a pale green luminescence, and uttered at -the horrified boys a sepulchral bellow!</p> -<p>“It’s—it’s the Green Dragon!” babbled the -Stealthy Stabber, with chattering teeth.</p> -<p>Even as he spoke, the gaping mouth of the -creature yawned open. A fizzing spurt of yellow -sparks darted from the cavity. With a blinding -flash, a ball of crimson fire shot out at them, -throwing a bloody glow over the scene. The -horror was coming after them, belching flame -and smoke!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_106">106</div> -<p>Another ball of fire, this time a deathlike blue -in color, burst in their midst. Without a further -glance, the terrified youngsters took to their -heels and ran through the underbrush, stumbling, -falling, crying out as they fled from that ghastly -spot. Far in the van was the doughty Blum, -almost out of his head with fear, racing as though -that glowing green devil was right at his heels!</p> -<p>Dirk Van Horn had risen to his feet, and had -backed away from the oncoming monster. He -could flee no further; his legs were weak with -fright; his back was braced against the towering -totem-pole of the Lenape tribe; and his teeth -were clenched to keep himself from crying out. -Straight toward him shambled the glowing -shape, showering many-colored sparks as it came!</p> -<p>He stared petrified. The dragon paused in -the center of the ring, shot forth a final rain of -sparks, and collapsed to the ground, its phosphorescent -hide thrown back. From within its -folds rose a high-pitched, mocking laugh that -was harder for Dirk to bear than the blood-curdling -groans it had formerly given forth.</p> -<p>That laugh! Dirk drew out his forgotten -flashlight, and snapped the button. A ray of -light shot out, and revealed Brick Ryan, rolling -on the ground in a tempest of mirth, clutching -in one hand a smoking thick tube of paper. At -his side lay the cast-off skin of the “dragon” -that had put to rout the brave band of Red -Revengers.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_107">107</div> -<p>Always Brick Ryan! Dirk sank limply to a -seat, and put his head in his hands. The shock -had been greater than he thought.</p> -<p>Brick, still chuckling, rose and came toward -him. “Gollies! Did you see those bold lads run -for it! They won’t stop until they’re safe in bed -with the covers pulled over their heads! And -nothin’ after them but F. X. A. Ryan wrapped -up in an old piece of canvas rubbed with phosphorus!”</p> -<p>“But that terrible fire—those lights——” -murmured Dirk. “Why—how——”</p> -<p>Brick burst into another peal of laughter. -“Just a little old Roman candle left over from -the Fourth of July! And in case you want to -know how I found out what was up, I discovered -a bit of a note under your pillow this afternoon, -tellin’ all about your fine meetin’ and how you -were goin’ to fix Ryan for keeps. But when -Ryan came himself to see these brave laddies, -they scooted like the pack of rabbits they are! -Revengers! Huh! Dumb Blum and his gang of -babies may be all right for sneakin’ around and -messin’ up a fellow’s things, but they sure aren’t -very happy out here in the woods at night!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_108">108</div> -<p>Dirk lifted his head wearily. “I wanted to -speak to you about that, Ryan. I didn’t know -they were going to fill your shoes with water -and steal your things, or I wouldn’t have stood -for it. Those were coward’s tricks; and I want -you to know I’m sorry.”</p> -<p>“Bein’ sorry won’t help you much. Maybe I -believe you, and maybe I don’t; but anyways, -you were out here with that bunch, cookin’ up -trouble, and you sure looked pretty cheap. Blum -was tryin’ to get you to do his dirty work, and -he’s such a coward himself he has to pull this -secret society stuff and make little kids that -don’t know any better follow him around like he -was somebody, the nasty little brat. So that’s -the kind of a friend you pick, huh?”</p> -<p>Dirk sighed. “I said I was in the wrong, -Ryan, and I apologized. I’m sorry I got mixed -up in this affair. What else can I say?”</p> -<p>“You’ve said enough, as far as I’m concerned. -Now, unless we both get back to Tent One -pretty quick, you and I will be spendin’ tomorrow -on the wood-pile. Those scared kids have -probably wakened up the whole camp.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_109">109</div> -<p>Dirk nodded, rising to his feet. “But before -we go, Ryan, tell me just one thing. I—I guess -I’m not the right sort of chap to get along here -at Lenape. I try to do the right thing, but I -always seem to end up in trouble. Tell me, what -is the matter with me?”</p> -<p>Brick, taken aback at the other’s frankness, -looked at the ground. “I’m no preacher,” he -mumbled slowly. “When—when I first came to -Lenape, I guess I was just as bad as you, and -a lot worse. And maybe my trouble was the -same as yours. I was always thinkin’ first of -Brick Ryan, and never stoppin’ to wonder how -it struck the other fellow. Then one of the -leaders got me to see that I could get most fun -out of campin’ by doin’ things for Lenape instead -of bein’ selfish and tryin’ to show how -smart a guy F. X. A. Ryan was. I—I guess -that’s what they mean when they talk of camp -spirit,” he ended lamely; “thinkin’ about the -good of the crowd instead of just showin’ off for -your own benefit. Now, let’s get along!”</p> -<p>“You mean—— Say!” cried Dirk with -glowing eyes, “I’d like to do something for the -camp! No, I don’t mean asking my father for -some money and buying stuff for everybody to -use. I mean, well—if we won that baseball game -Wednesday, I guess it would be a thing to be -proud of! Ryan, I’m going to play as I never -played before—for the honor of the camp!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_110">110</div> -<p>“That would be a starter,” Brick admitted. -“Now, for gosh sakes, let’s get out of here!”</p> -<p>The two made their way back to their bunks -without mishap, and turned in to take a much-needed -sleep. However, before he shut his eyes -for good, Dirk pondered over the events of the -night; and he decided that he would not forget -the advice that his red-haired tent-mate had offered -him in the Council Ring.</p> -<p>Next morning, as Dirk was racing down to -Indian Dip in the sparkling lake along with the -rest of the newly-risen campers, he found Dumb -Blum at his side.</p> -<p>“Say, what happened last night, anyway?” -asked the erstwhile leader of the Revengers. -“Did that thing catch you, or what? What was -it, Van?” he asked with Wide eyes.</p> -<p>“It was Brick Ryan,” Dirk replied; and -ignoring the other’s cry of amazement, went on: -“He made me realize what a silly thing we were -doing, having a secret society and all that foolishness. -Listen, Blum; I think you’re a coward, -and if I find out that you and your friends are -having any more meetings of your absurd -R.H.R., I promise I’ll make you regret it.”</p> -<p>He clenched his fist, and Blum, his jaw dropping, -backed off hastily.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_111">111</div> -<p>“I won’t have anything to do with it!” he -promised. “Don’t hit me, Van Horn!” He -fell back, and Dirk, unmindful, trotted down to -the dock, leaving the despised Blum far in the -rear.</p> -<p>That afternoon the promised game with the -councilors kept the Lenape team on the jump to -defend their positions against prime competition. -With Lieutenant Eames on the mound for the -leaders, and Chief himself, in mask and chest-protector, -behind the plate, the camper squad -were hard put to it to score. However, Soapy -Mullins got home on a two-bagger made by -Lefty Reardon, and in the fifth inning, which -was by agreement the last, Blackie Thorne surprised -himself as much as the others by hitting -a long fly that landed among the rocks of the -stone fence, and was not found until he had -completed a tour of the bases for the second -tally. But when the leaders came up for the last -time, they began a merry procession that ended -only with Swim Call, leaving the final score 5-2 -in favor of the councilors.</p> -<p>“You had us going for a while, Captain,” the -Chief called to Lefty as the game ended. “If -your team plays as well on Wednesday, Shawnee -will have to use ten men to beat you!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_112">112</div> -<p>“Thanks, Chief,” responded the pitcher, with -a grin. “But it won’t be a cinch by any means. -They have the toughest outfit this year they’ve -ever had, and I’m sure going into the box with -my pockets full of four-leaf clovers!”</p> -<p>Although the game had not been a victory for -the camper team, it had ended happily for Dirk -Van Horn. Inspired by his resolve of the previous -night, he had never played a better game -in all his days at prep school. He had fielded -like a veteran, and once he scooped in a pop fly -in such quick time that he had slammed it down -to Brick Ryan on first for a double play against -the unprepared Mr. Lane, who was caught trying -to regain first base. At the finish, when -Lefty told him that his position in left field -would be confirmed for the Shawnee game, he -glowed with the most pleasant feeling he had -enjoyed since he first put foot on the Lenape -campus.</p> -<p>He strolled back to Tent One with Lefty, -chatting eagerly of their prospects. When the -pair reached the tent, they found Sax McNulty -and the rest of their comrades gathered in an -excited group around Brick Ryan, who was -grinning broadly and trying modestly to conceal -his pride.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_113">113</div> -<p>“What’s up, men?” challenged Lefty. -“Why all the celebration?”</p> -<p>“We just got the news that our gang will be -represented on the Long Trail this year!” answered -the councilor. “Congrats again, Brick! -He’s going to help plant the Lenape pennant on -old Mount Kinnecut. Stand up, you red-headed -riot, and bow to the ladies and gentlemen!”</p> -<p>Brick blushed beneath his freckles. “Aw, it’s -not so much to talk about.” He choked as his -friend Lefty Reardon pounded him on the back -heartily.</p> -<p>“You’re wrong there, old scout!” Lefty -shouted. “I went last year, and it was the -greatest thing that ever happened to me. Talk -about fun! And we had some exciting adventures, -too. Boy, when you’re tenting by Lake -Moosehorn and catching a mess of bass for your -supper, think of poor Lefty back at Lenape, -wishing he was along again this season!”</p> -<p>Sax McNulty stared into the distance. “I -scaled Kinnecut five—no, six—years ago, it -was,” he said softly. “I’ll never have such a -great time if I live to be a hundred and fifty! -Tiny Krouse, my canoe-mate, was chased two -miles by a mama-bear who thought he was trying -to kidnap her cubs! And the view from the -Lookout! Why——”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_114">114</div> -<p>“Tell us about it, Sax!” begged Nig Jackson.</p> -<p>Dirk, who had been looking from one to another -of the eager boys, now broke in. “Yes, -but first tell me what all this is about! What -is Brick going to do, anyway? Where is the -Long Trail?”</p> -<p>“Tell him, Lefty,” nodded McNulty.</p> -<p>“Well, Van, it’s this way. The Long Trail -is an old Lenape custom that was started by six -fellows the first year the camp began. They -went for a sixty-mile trip from here to Mount -Kinnecut, up the river by canoes and over the -ponds to Lake Moosehorn, then hiking through -the big timber and climbing the mountain. Since -then, every year, six boys under a leader make -the same trip, and now there are nine Camp -Lenape pennants nailed to the tallest tree on the -very top of old Kinnecut, to show that the chosen -campers can come through a long endurance test -with flying colors. It’s not an easy trail, and so -only the fellows who are best fitted for it can -go. Once you’ve made the trip, you can’t go -again—only Mr. Carrigan, who is in command, -has been over it before. I want to tell you -youngsters that it’s the one big thing at Lenape -that you can never forget! Brick, I say it again, -you’re a lucky bum!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_115">115</div> -<p>Dirk was still puzzled. “How do they pick -the fellows to go?”</p> -<p>“Well, they have to be in first-class shape all -around—healthy, full of pep and camp spirit, -and they have to know their way around on the -water and in the woods,” said McNulty. “And -Wise-Tongue Carrigan has made a good choice -this year, if you ask me. Besides Brick, he’s -picked Steve Link, Wild Willie Sanders, Spaghetti -Megaro, Cowboy Platt, and Ugly Brown. -Ugly is younger than the rest, but he’s a fine -little woodsman and can handle a canoe like an -Indian. I tell you, Van Horn, if you make the -most of your chances this summer, I wouldn’t be -surprised to see you leading the list of Long -Trailers next season!”</p> -<p>Dirk stared at the friendly face of the leader, -and at Brick Ryan’s happy grin. It must be the -most wonderful adventure in the world, the -Long Trail. But next season—that was a long -time to wait!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_116">116</div> -<h2 id="c10"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER X</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">OFF FOR CAMP SHAWNEE</span></h2> -<p>“Come in!” called the Chief, looking up -from the papers on his desk. “Oh, hello, -Dirk! Sit down and tell me what’s on your -mind.”</p> -<p>Dirk Van Horn carefully closed the door of -the little office, and faced the genial camp director.</p> -<p>“If you aren’t too busy, sir, I’d like to ask -you something.”</p> -<p>“Never too busy to talk to campers! But it’s -a fact that I haven’t seen very much of you, -Dirk, since your folks brought you up here to -Lenape. Of course”—the Chief smiled slightly—“I’ve -heard reports of your doings, now and -then. How do you like Lenape so far?”</p> -<p>The boy looked at the man ruefully. “I’m -beginning to wonder,” he said, “if you shouldn’t -ask how Lenape likes me!”</p> -<p>“You’ve learned a lot, if you know that, -Dirk.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_117">117</div> -<p>“I have learned a lot. I’ve only been here a -few days, Chief, but even I can see that I have -been an utter chump, all along. It’s taken me -a long time to get things straight, and I’m still -pretty green, I guess. But from now on, I want -to tell you I’m trying to be a real camper!”</p> -<p>The Chief leaned back in his chair, and rubbed -his chin reflectively. “You seem to be in the -right frame of mind to do it, Dirk. We leaders -can help some, but unless a boy learns these -things from other boys and by thinking about -them himself, we can’t do very much. But I -know,” he went on, “that you didn’t come here -this morning just to tell me you want to be a -true Lenape camper. What’s on your mind?”</p> -<p>Dirk gulped. “It’s a big thing to ask,” he -blurted, “and maybe I shouldn’t say it.”</p> -<p>“Come, out with it!”</p> -<p>“Well—well—Chief, I want to go on the -Long Trail!”</p> -<p>For some space of time after this pronouncement, -the man said nothing. Dirk, searching his -chief’s face for some sign, breathed a heavy sigh -of disappointment, and rose to go.</p> -<p>“Sit down, Dirk! The Long Trail, eh? I -suppose you know what you’re asking?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_118">118</div> -<p>Dirk, with new eagerness in his eyes, sank -again into his chair. “Mr. McNulty and some -of the chaps have been talking about it, and -Ryan, in our tent, is going. It must be a splendid -experience, sir, and I—I—— Yes, I know -I’m not much as a woodsman—why, I got lost -within a little way from the camp!—and I guess -I’d be a drag on the rest of the fellows on a long -trip like that. But, oh, sir, give me a chance!”</p> -<p>The Chief stared through the little window -over his desk, a tiny square through which came -a glimpse of the pines and the rippling waters of -Lake Lenape.</p> -<p>“The boys that Mr. Carrigan has chosen are -all picked campers,” he said at last. “Most of -them have spent three seasons here, and in that -time have learned the many things they must -know to take care of themselves on a long trip -that would test the endurance of many grown -men. Moreover, these boys realize that in order -to get through and plant our banner on Mount -Kinnecut, they must work together as one, must -share alike for the good of the tribe, as the old -Indians and scouts used to do. Out of the hundred -boys here each summer, only six are ever -chosen to take this trail for the honor of Lenape. -Now, knowing all this, do you still want to go?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_119">119</div> -<p>Dirk nodded dully. “But I’m bigger and -stronger than Ugly Brown, and he’s going! -And I’d do my best to learn everything, and try -to keep up with the rest of the party——”</p> -<p>“Brown is one of the best young campers we -have,” observed the Chief, “even if he is small. -If you knew a tenth as much as he does about -the woods and the water, you might stand a -chance. Come, now, Dirk, I know how you feel. -I’ve known your dad for years, and I can guess -that if you ever wanted anything, he would get -it for you. But this thing you speak of is different. -You can only get it for yourself; and -the harder you work to earn it, the more you’ll -value it. Learn as much as you can this summer, -and next year, we’ll see about letting you hit the -trail for Kinnecut! How about it?”</p> -<p>Dirk, not trusting himself to speak, shook -his head dumbly, and looked at the floor. He -might have known the Chief would say no, but—but——</p> -<p>The director was watching him with new interest. -“Well, you are persistent!” he exclaimed. -“That might count for something in -your favor. Now, let me ask you a question. -You’ve been at Lenape for four days. What -have you learned that will stand you in good -stead on a stiff hike and canoe-trip through -some of the wildest country in the state?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_120">120</div> -<p>“Nothing, I guess,” confessed Dirk humbly. -“I haven’t even learned to swim, and even the -littlest fellows make fun of me wading around in -the shallow water. But I’ll try, Chief, I will! -Only let me——”</p> -<p>“Your canoe is still on the dock, isn’t it?”</p> -<p>“Yes. Mr. Rawn said he wouldn’t let me -take it out until I could swim and learn how to -handle a paddle. I—I haven’t bothered to learn. -I can see I’ve wasted my time fooling around -with silly things, and loafing——”</p> -<p>“All right. That’s enough. Dirk, you have -lots of stuff in you that, if you want it badly -enough, can help you become a first-rate camper. -You’ve shown it by getting out and chasing flies -on the baseball team, and that’s a fine start. If -you really believe what you’ve told me just now, -your spirit in the future will be the finest thing -that could come to you. You can see that your -chances of holding your own on the Long Trail -this year are pretty slim. But, since you’re so -eager, I don’t mind telling you that there is a -chance!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_121">121</div> -<p>Dirk’s eyes widened, and he jumped up. -“You mean—— What do you want me to do, -Chief?”</p> -<p>“I’ll make a bargain with you. Man to man. -The Long Trailers will start next Monday for -the river. That gives us five days. If, during -those five days, you can pass all the requirements -for the Lenape honor emblem, I’ll ask Mr. Carrigan -to take you along!”</p> -<p>“Do you really mean it? Why, Chief, that’s -a wonderful offer! And I’ll do it—I know I -will!” Dirk cried.</p> -<p>The director was amused. “Don’t be too -sure, Dirk. You don’t know what you are up -against.” He opened the drawer of his desk -and drew out a printed card. “Here is a list of -the things you will have to do. It’s a long list, -and four days is a short time. Remember, too, -that you must not neglect your regular camp -duties to work on any of the tests. One of the -requirements, and the biggest, is that you must -show a fine, all-around camp spirit; and that -means you will have to think of the honor of -your tent and the welfare of everybody and -everything in camp. But if you do a good job -out there in left field tomorrow at Shawnee, I’ll -sign this card in this space calling for participation -in an inter-camp athletic contest, and that -will be one less test for you to do before Sunday -night.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_122">122</div> -<p>Dirk took the card, and glanced at the rows -of print upon it. “It’s a bargain!” he cried. -“And I’ll start working on the tests this very -minute!”</p> -<p>“Hold on! There’s one thing more I want to -say before you rush out and start your job. -Remember what I’ve told you—your chance of -fitting yourself for the Long Trail is a very slim -one indeed. Promise me that, in the event you -don’t come through with your part of our bargain, -you will take it like a sportsman, and even -though you miss out this season, you will continue -in the same spirit that you are starting -now. It may be bitter medicine to take, but take -it like a man!”</p> -<p>“I—I promise, Chief.”</p> -<p>Dirk fumbled for the doorknob, his heart full -of gratitude and a determination that was new -to him. He found himself outside the office, -standing on the porch with a cool wind about his -hot forehead. Through blurred eyes he scanned -the printed card in his hand, reading the list of -things that he must do within the coming days, -if he was to join Brick Ryan and the rest on -the Long Trail:</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_123">123</div> -<p class="center">REQUIREMENTS FOR LENAPE HONOR EMBLEM</p> -<dl class="undent"><dt>1. Know the North Star and five constellations.</dt> -<dt>2. Collect fifteen wild flowers.</dt> -<dt>3. Identify fifteen trees.</dt> -<dt>4. Collect and identify five kinds of rocks.</dt> -<dt>5. Know ten birds.</dt> -<dt>6. Handle a rowboat and name ten parts of a boat.</dt> -<dt>7. Swim 100 yards.</dt> -<dt>8. Make a permanent woodcraft exhibit, or build some camp improvement.</dt> -<dt>9. Build a good cooking fire and cook potatoes, rice pudding, twist biscuit, and broiled meat.</dt> -<dt>10. Play on an athletic team in an inter-camp contest.</dt> -<dt>11. Take a part in a camp show.</dt> -<dt>12. Act as a tent aide for one day.</dt> -<dt>13. Show at all times the finest spirit as an all-round Lenape camper.</dt></dl> -<p>Dirk whistled as his eye ran down the list. -No wonder Brick and Lefty and the others wore -their green L badges with pride! And now, in -the few days remaining before the canoes cut the -water on the first leg of the journey to Kinnecut, -he must do all these things, or stay behind. But, -although he had never in all his life faced such -a task as this, he did not admit even to himself -that he might fail.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_124">124</div> -<p>He buttoned the card carefully in his breast -pocket. Then, with a new light in his eyes, he -ran down the steep path toward the lake shore. -Mr. Wally Rawn, on duty at the dock before -morning swim period, was startled by the tall -figure of a boy who clutched his arm, and gasped -breathlessly: “Wally, sir! Do you think you -could teach me to swim a hundred yards today? -I want to learn to swim, and I want to learn -now!”</p> -<p>By nightfall, Dirk had not learned all that -there is to know about swimming, but Wally’s -first lesson had given some confidence in handling -himself in the water, as well as a hope that -diligent practice should enable him to swim the -required number of yards at no distant date. -Moreover, the boy’s lips tilted in a satisfied smile -as he glanced at the spaces on the requirement -card in his hand. Three items were already -initialed. Wally Rawn had found time to teach -him the rudiments of managing a rowboat. -Lefty Reardon, a bit doubtful of this sudden interest -in campcraft by the new boy but unaware -of its cause, had been persuaded to coach him -upon trees and rocks, and Van Horn’s collection -and identification were vouched for by the initials -of Mr. Jim Avery.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_125">125</div> -<p>“Only ten more to go!” Dirk breathed to himself. -“I’ll get somebody to show me the stars -tonight, and in the morning——” He caught -his breath. “Why, how could I forget? Tomorrow -is the day of the big game with Shawnee!”</p> -<p>In the morning Sax McNulty looked over at -him curiously.</p> -<p>“What’s come over you, young lad?” the -leader asked. “I didn’t know you loved to -chase flies so much that you’re bubbling with -boyish glee.”</p> -<p>“I love to chase flies, Sax.”</p> -<p>“But not that much. There’s something else. -I never saw anybody in such a burning hurry to -have an honor emblem pinned on his shirt. I’m -suspicious.”</p> -<p>“I can’t tell you now, Sax. But will you help -me?”</p> -<p>McNulty snorted. “Do you have to ask? -Now, hop into your bathrobes, you birds—What -will become of Camp Shawnee if you sleep all -day?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_126">126</div> -<p>“Shawnee” was the word that rose oftenest in -the babel at the breakfast table. All the boys -were in hiking clothes, ready for the ten-mile -trail that fringed the mountains running north. -Within a few minutes after the meal was over, -Dirk had seen disappear into the woods all his -tent-mates with the exception of Lefty and -Brick, who, with the rest of the Lenape nine, -were to ride to Shawnee and thus keep fresh for -the big contest of the afternoon.</p> -<p>Dirk fingered his glove nervously, and wondered -what sort of ball field the Shawnee campus -would provide. Somebody slapped him on the -back. It was Spaghetti Megaro, second baseman, -and a gay light shone in the Italian boy’s -eyes.</p> -<p>“You’re worried, huh? Well, forget it! If -we don’t win, we lose. But I think we win! -Come, the truck is loaded—pile on and hang -tight. If you can ride this flivver, the bucking -broncho is nothing!”</p> -<p>“Sure, Spaghett.” Dirk joined the crowding -band that jostled each other laughingly as -they sought places in the body of the camp -truck. Stirring up a cyclone of dust, the car left -Lenape deserted, and rattled off up the rutted -lane. Dirk Van Horn, clinging to the dashboard -with both hands, stared into the distance.</p> -<p>“I think we win!” he repeated softly. “And -I—I must do a good job, the Chief said. Well, -in just a few hours I’ll have my chance!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_127">127</div> -<h2 id="c11"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER XI</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">THE CAPTAIN</span></h2> -<p>It was the end of the fourth inning, and Camp -Shawnee had players on second and third -with two out. The eager boys were on their toes, -taking long leads and praying that Widelle, at -bat, would bring them in with one of his famous -sky-high clouts.</p> -<p>Lefty wound up and delivered a whistling -curve that landed in Gil Shelton’s mitt with a -satisfying smack.</p> -<p>“Strike two!” called Judge Kinney of Elmville, -umpire for the day. The boys of Camp -Lenape, grouped along the sidelines of the -Shawnee diamond, raised a cheer of praise for -their pitcher’s prowess.</p> -<p>Widelle, who wore on his jersey the red arrow-head -insignia of Lenape’s rival camp, shifted his -bat slightly and set himself, ready for what -might prove the final toss of the inning.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_128">128</div> -<p>“You got him measured for a homer!” Captain -Hook Bollard was encouraging his team-mate -with loud yells. “Take it on the nose!” -He, as well as the two hundred other spectators, -invader and defender alike, held his breath as -Lefty uncorked a fast one. More than one person -in the stands didn’t see that ball coming. -But Widelle saw it; moreover, he connected.</p> -<p>“Zowie!” shrieked Bollard. “Go it, Widdy! -A love-ly skyscraper!”</p> -<p>It was a perfect hit; a bit too lofty for security, -but nevertheless pretty. Two hundred -pairs of eyes watched the horsehide sphere climb -over left field, then drop with increasing speed -toward the earth. Widelle was nearing first, and -already had his eye on second. The man on third -was trotting confidently toward the home plate. -But no one saw them. Lenape and Shawnee -eyes were fastened on that descending ball; and -now they were aware of a lithe figure in a -tailored baseball suit, streaking backwards with -head tilted to avoid the afternoon sun. Back, -back the figure raced; a sudden daring leap, a -slap as leather hit leather.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_129">129</div> -<p>“He dropped it!” howled Bollard. The -Lenape ranks groaned as the fielder fell sprawling; -but the groan changed to unbelieving cries -as they saw that one arm was still raised aloft, -and a hand still clutched the fatal sphere! The -fielder was on his feet again, slamming a long, -easy toss to Brick Ryan at first. Brick touched -the bag, and the Lenape team trooped in to take -their turn at bat.</p> -<p>“That was Van Horn! Boy, what a catch!”</p> -<p>“Yay, Van! Pretty stuff, old kid!”</p> -<p>Dirk trotted toward the bench, and the cheers -of his fellow campers grew. He tried to put on -a modest, matter-of-fact look, but he could not -hold back a confident grin. The Chief was there; -he must have seen that catch, and the least he -could do would be to sign his card for inter-camp -athletics. Now, he would come to bat this inning, -and then he’d show these kids some real -prep-school league hitting——</p> -<p>He felt his arm seized roughly, and a voice, -low yet angry, rasped in his ear.</p> -<p>“Say, Van Horn, there’s eight other guys on -this team!”</p> -<p>Dirk wheeled. It was Lefty Reardon who -spoke, and his face was ominous.</p> -<p>“Why, what do you mean by that?” Dirk -asked.</p> -<p>“You know what I mean! With the score -three to one against us, why do you have to go -playing tiddley-winks to the grandstand? Another -pass like that, and you’ll be holding down -the job of water-boy for this team!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_130">130</div> -<p>“What was the matter with that play?” -grumbled Van Horn sulkily. “They went out, -didn’t they?”</p> -<p>“What was the matter? Everything! These -kids here in the cheering section thought you -were a regular daredevil, but I know better! -Try that stunt again and you’ll get a rain-check -instead of a bouquet. Talk about playing to the -gallery! That was an easy catch—but you had -to make it look like hero stuff. And taking all -those chances, falling down and so on, just to -look like the bozo that saved the day! Well, -Terry Tompkins ain’t got a swelled head, and -if you don’t button up quick, you’ll be benching -for the rest of the season. And I’m saying it!”</p> -<p>He turned away, leaving Dirk with a flaming -face. Suppose he had made that catch seem a -bit harder—what was the harm? He really had -stumbled, but there had been no danger of -dropping the ball. What right had Reardon to -call him a swell-head, just because——? But -secretly, Dirk knew that Lefty had spoken -justly.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_131">131</div> -<p>With burning cheeks, he watched Soapy Mullins -fan out. Brick Ryan, after tipping two -fouls, was allowed to walk. Ken Haviland -stalled, taking two strikes while Brick stole -second, and outguessed on a fast inshoot, -dropped his bat as the umpire called him out.</p> -<p>“Wake up, you fielder!” Lefty was calling. -Dirk realized that he was next.</p> -<p>A little chill chased itself up his spine as he -grabbed his own bat and hurried to the plate. -But as he stepped up and faced Bollard’s wind-up, -all his nervousness left him. He’d show -these kids—and Lefty Reardon in particular—that -he could save their old ball-game yet. He -knew he was good. He knew he was going to -hit.</p> -<p>“Ball one!”</p> -<p>He hadn’t moved. Bollard was worried, and -he kept a wary eye on Brick, who was fully -prepared to steal to third at an instant’s notice. -The Lenape boys set up a roar.</p> -<p>“He’ll walk you, Van! Let him do it!” -advised Captain Reardon.</p> -<p>Dirk’s face did not show that he had heard. -He was out after a hit. He let the next one go -by, and waited for a good one. It came.</p> -<p>Sock! He had placed it just right, a red-hot -cannonball that went through shortstop like a -rocket. Dirk’s cleats spurned the dusty track -that led to first base.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_132">132</div> -<p>Behind him rose the shrieks of Lenape and -Shawnee. Among them he thought he heard the -voice of Lefty Reardon, but he gave it not a -thought. That swat was good for a two-bagger -or nothing. He tapped first with his toe, and -streaked for second. The shouts grew louder, -but there was nobody in his path. Evidently the -fielder was still tangled up in his own feet. -Maybe a three-bagger——? Dirk leaped on -second base, shook the sweat out of his eyes, and -looked ahead.</p> -<p>There was a knot of players at third, and one -of them must have the ball. Another was on the -ground—— Why, it was Brick Ryan! Dirk -had forgotten all about Brick; but there he was, -with one arm stretched out, just touching the -bag. Another boy, a Shawnee baseman, was -crouched at his side, while above them stood a -man who, as Dirk watched, shouted “Safe!” -It was the field umpire.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_133">133</div> -<p>Remorse showered on Dirk like a torrent. -Brick had made it, but only because he was a top-notch -player; while he, Dirk, had been to blame -for the worst fool stunt in his baseball career. -He could feel Lefty Reardon’s despairing eye -on him, and could imagine what the captain was -thinking. “Grandstand stuff again!” Van -Horn, thinking only of himself and his own -glory, had made a two-bagger, but had forced -Ryan into a tight fix at third; it was only a -matter of an instant’s decision that had saved -the Lenape team from missing their big chance -to score.</p> -<p>For half a minute, Dirk was rattled. The -knot at third base broke up; the boys resumed -their places, and Brick, grinning, rose and dusted -his trousers while keeping an eye on Bollard, -who strolled back into the box. The Shawnee -team was now on the defensive; the pitcher had -two men to watch, and Megaro was up—Megaro, -the heaviest slugger on the Lenape side.</p> -<p>“I won’t quit!” Dirk swore under his breath. -“It was a fool trick—but I’ve got to play it -through!” He took his eyes from Reardon, at -the bench, and watched the pitcher. Bollard put -across two wild throws, and Megaro tipped a -foul. Dirk took a wary lead, and Brick Ryan -did the same.</p> -<p>A roar from two hundred throats sounded -from the watching crowd. Crack! When the -dust lifted, Megaro was safe at first; Brick Ryan -was clear of home plate and Dirk Van Horn -stretched over that same plate with the umpire’s -cry in his ears: “Safe by a mile!” He had slid -for the tying run almost on Ryan’s heels.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_134">134</div> -<p>But there was no joy for Dirk in the rousing -applause of the watchers. From the tail of his -eye, he saw Lefty approaching, and knew what -was coming.</p> -<p>“All right, Captain,” he said humbly; “you -can take me out now.”</p> -<p>Brick Ryan put in a word. “Let him alone, -Lefty! You know those things happen.”</p> -<p>“Never mind, Brick,” snapped Reardon. “It -was only luck you got out of it, and I already -warned him. He’s done. Tompkins will play -left field for the rest of this game.”</p> -<p>“Aw, don’t you see he cleared himself? We -made two runs, and that ought to make you -happier, Lefty. Gollies sakes, it’s all in a ball -game——”</p> -<p>“Thanks, Ryan, old chap—you’re white about -it, but Lefty’s right,” admitted Dirk. “I forced -you, just to show off. Maybe some day,” he -ended miserably, “I’ll learn how to play on a -team.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_135">135</div> -<p>Many a curious glance followed him as he -pushed through the admiring bunch of Lenape -boys who clustered on the sidelines; but Ollie -Steffins was at bat, and the invading campers, -thirsting for more rapid-action runs, did not -notice him as he headed behind the tent-houses -that ringed the Shawnee diamond. He passed -the lodge overlooking the brown waters of Iron -Lake, and started down the road by which the -hikers had marched that morning into the rival -encampment. There were still two innings to -play, but Dirk Van Horn did not want to see -the end of that game. Camp Lenape was ten -miles away, and he must hike. He went on his -way; and as he went, he thought....</p> -<p>That night there was jubilation in Camp -Lenape. Hated Shawnee had been taught a -lesson on the diamond, by the slender margin of -one run made in the last inning by Blackie -Thorne. There were comments at the supper -table, however, upon the sportsmanship and hospitality -of the defeated camp, who had taken -their defeat in good nature, and in parting had -promised vengeance at the next inter-camp tilt. -Tired hikers ate like wolves, assuring each other -between mouthfuls that it had been a swell day.</p> -<p>Dishes had to be washed. At Tent One table, -Lefty and Eddie Scolter were due for this detail. -The latter, however, could hardly keep his eyes -open—the long hike, the swim in Iron Lake, and -the excitements of the day’s visit at Shawnee had -been almost too much for the small lad. He -nodded gratefully when Dirk Van Horn offered -to take his place. Sax McNulty raised his eyebrows -at this generosity, but made no remark.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_136">136</div> -<p>Lefty busied himself with a broom and piled -the dishes while Dirk mixed up suds in the pan. -It was Lefty who spoke first.</p> -<p>“I got a bit heated up this afternoon,” he confessed -casually. “Hope you didn’t take me too -seriously, Van. Sometimes, when a guy is -captain of a team, he has to say things and do -things he doesn’t like.”</p> -<p>Dirk nodded.</p> -<p>“I’m sorry if you’re sore about it,” the aide -went on. “Brick Ryan was taking your part, -on the way home, and darned if he didn’t convince -me that I was wrong in bawling you out -the way I did.”</p> -<p>“I am sore,” admitted Dirk; “but at myself, -not at you. You were quite right to kick me -out. It’s—it’s not easy to say it, but I’m pretty -much of a swell-head any way you put it. Will -you do me a favor, Reardon?”</p> -<p>“Sure.”</p> -<p>“Well, next time you see me getting ready -to do any more stunts like that, will you oblige -me by a swift kick in the seat of my pants?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_137">137</div> -<p>Lefty laughed. “I will! Now, I want to ask -you something. You want to go on the Long -Trail, don’t you?”</p> -<p>The blond boy stared and almost dropped a -dish on the floor. “How did you know?”</p> -<p>“Oh, I can see! But the Long Trail is a -pretty stiff proposition. What makes you think -you can tackle it?”</p> -<p>“It’s just a crazy hope. But the Chief said -there was a slim chance, and I want to go more -than I ever wanted to do anything.”</p> -<p>“You’re right—it’s worth working for, I’ll -say! So now you’ve given up bunk-stretching -and are going full speed ahead on your emblem -and winning ball-games and thinking of the -other fellow first—— Well, I’m here to say -I’ll help you all I can, and any other older -camper will do the same! Now, what things do -you still have to do to get your emblem?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_138">138</div> -<h2 id="c12"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER XII</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">THE MYSTERIOUS WATCHER</span></h2> -<p>Dirk pushed back his unruly hair, pulled -a sheet of paper from the roller of his -portable typewriter, and read what he had just -written.</p> -<blockquote> -<p><span class="jr">“Camp Lenape, Thursday.</span></p> -<p>“<span class="sc">Dear Dad</span>:</p> -<p>“I am writing this to you especially because -I want to thank you for sending me up -here to Camp Lenape. I must admit that at -first I didn’t seem to get over so well with the -fellows, but that was all my own fault, and now -that everything is going fine, I can see why you -wanted me to spend my summer with such a -swell bunch of campers and leaders. My, the -Chief must have been a great man to be friends -with when you were in college together! He has -certainly been nice to me.</p> -<p>“It would take a whole book to tell you all -the things that have happened to me since you -and Mama left. We played baseball with a -camp named Shawnee, and beat them. I was -fielding for a while, but got kicked out of the -game in the middle because of a fool stunt, so I -didn’t help the team any. You met the captain—Lefty -Reardon, a splendid pitcher that I wish -we had on our prep-school squad. He’s just one -of the chaps in my tent—all of them are awfully -lively and full of fun. I had a fight with a kid -named Brick Ryan, but now we’re good friends. -He’s a red-headed kid in our tent. Mr. McNulty, -our leader, looks gloomy all the time but that is -just his way, and the things he says would make -you die laughing. He plays the sax, so they all -call him Sax. He’s our councilor.</p> -<p>“I’ll bet you would be surprised if you knew -all the things I learned about stars and flowers -and boats and things. One of the kids tried to -fool me and say that one tree was a castor oil -tree that the castor oil came from, but I guess -I’m not so green as to believe that, though. I’m -learning to swim some, and Brick Ryan is showing -me about diving into the water head first. -He’s got what they call a Lenape honor emblem, -which you can get for your jersey if you know -a lot of camp things.</p> -<p>“We have to work hard here to keep the tent -clean and get merit points to win a pennant -every day to show which is the best tent. The -first day I didn’t clean up enough and we got -the ‘booby can’ that we had to hang up with -‘booby’ written on it. Each of us has to be -waiter and wash dishes, but that’s fun too, like -seeing if you can get ‘seconds’ on meat and -potatoes when you’re the waiter. Tell Mama -not to bother sending up all that candy and cake -and stuff I asked for, because Wally Rawn, the -swimming coach, says it’s bad to eat a lot of junk -between meals all the time. I have to be in -training now, because I want to learn to swim -good.</p> -<p>“Now for the big news. The Chief told me -that if I got my honor emblem all done and know -everything by Sunday night, he will ask Mr. -Carrigan to take me on the Long Trail. The -Long Trail is a swell trip up the river and a hike -through the woods and up a mountain, and I -want to go if I can, so if the Chief will let me, -say you won’t mind! I guess it’s quite exciting, -because everybody wants to go, but only six can -go every year, and if I go that will be seven. -One of the fellows that is going is Brick Ryan. -Reardon went last year, and he says you can -catch bass fish and you take along a flag and -nail it to a tree on top of the mountain. ‘Sax’ -went once and a bear chased his canoe-mate, but -don’t tell Mama that part or she will worry. -But Mr. Carrigan is quite a woodsman and -knows all about nature and things, although to -look at him you wouldn’t think so, because he -looks sort of funny and has a big nose. He -knows all about bears. I can take along the -canoe you gave me, the <i>Sachem</i>. The other fellows -are Steve Link and a fellow we call ‘Spaghetti’ -because his name is Megaro and he’s -Italian, and Wild Willie Sanders and Ugly -Brown and a fellow named Cowboy Platt who -comes from Arizona where the cowboys come -from. Ugly Brown is smaller than I am, but -he knows a lot about the woods. Before we go -we have to pass a physical examination but I -never felt better in my life because I’m in training.</p> -<p>“Today I am being the tent aide. That is a -rather important job, as you see it means you -have to be a sort of assistant to the leader and -keep all the fellows on their toes doing the right -things, and yet do it without being bossy or -mean. Lefty is the regular aide, but he let me -do it to try for one part of my honor emblem. -I still have lots of tests to pass for it yet. -‘Gollies,’ as my friend Brick Ryan would say, -I sure hope that I don’t miss out and can’t finish -it all by Sunday, for then I wouldn’t dare ask -the Chief to let me go on the Long Trail.</p> -<p>“Well, I must get busy now and do some -more things, but don’t forget that I’m to go to -Mt. Kinnecut with the long trailers, and that if -the Chief gives his permission, you will too. You -can explain things to Mama, but don’t mention -the bears.</p> -<p><span class="center">“Your affectionate son,</span> -<span class="jr">“<span class="sc">Dirk van Horn</span>.”</span></p> -</blockquote> -<div class="pb" id="Page_142">142</div> -<p>The writer surveyed this composition thoughtfully, -scratched his ear, and replacing the page -in the machine, added a brief paragraph.</p> -<blockquote> -<p>“P.S. Tell Mama not to worry about getting -my feet wet. I haven’t taken any of those -pills for several days, but I thought it over and -I think that anybody that feels as good as I do -doesn’t need any pills. I’m getting nice and tan -like a sailor.”</p> -</blockquote> -<div class="pb" id="Page_143">143</div> -<p>Slipping his letter into an envelope addressed -to “Mr. John T. Van Horn, President, Commerce -National Bank,” Dirk stuck on a stamp -and his missive was ready for the mail. He had -just stepped outside the tent when he caught -sight of Brick Ryan, lugging a sack on his -shoulders and making his way down the hillside -at a fast pace.</p> -<p>“Hi, Brick!” Dirk hailed him. “Say, wait -for a chap! Is that the mail-bag you have?”</p> -<p>Brick halted and nodded. “Long Jim gave -me the chance to take it down to Heaven for him -today. He’s busy at the store.”</p> -<p>“Well, here’s a letter I want to go in, special.” -He caught up to his red-headed tent-mate and -slipped his letter into the top of the canvas sack. -Brick grunted.</p> -<p>“Everybody must be writing to their mamas -and sweethearts today, all right. Gollies, what -a hefty load! Say, Van, do you want to go -along and help row the boat? Give you some -practice.”</p> -<p>“Could I?” Dirk became reflective. “I’m -supposed to be acting as aide today, but maybe -I can go. I sure would like to help. I tell you—you -go on down, and if I can get away, I’ll be -down to the dock in a jiffy.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_144">144</div> -<p>They parted, and Dirk raced to the lodge, -where he found his councilor practicing with the -camp orchestra in preparation for a vaudeville -show that was on the program for the following -night. Securing his ready permission to assist -the mail-carrier of the day, Dirk cut through the -trees below the tents and reached the dock almost -as soon as the burdened Brick arrived.</p> -<p>Selecting a steel-bottomed rowboat from -among those moored in the lee of the diving -tower, the two boys pushed off on the waters of -Lake Lenape. Dirk, amidships, took the unwieldy -oars and with unskilled motions began -sculling in the direction of the north end of the -lake, where a landing jutted from the weedy -shore, beyond which faintly showed the roof of -Heaven House, the little cottage that was used -for the accommodation of parents and guests -who visited the mountain camp.</p> -<p>They had gone only a few hundred yards when -Brick, lounging easily on the stern-sheets with -the mail sack between his knees, made an offer.</p> -<p>“Say, my lad, how would you like to see some -baby kingfishers?”</p> -<p>“Fine!” answered Van Horn. “Where are -they?”</p> -<p>“Well, cut over a few points toward the -shore, and we’ll just stop in up the creek a ways. -They have their nest in a hollow stump. We’ve -got plenty of time to take a look, if we hurry.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_145">145</div> -<p>Dirk pulled on his oars with renewed vigor, -and the boat headed toward the reed-masked -inlet of the marshy creek that cut into the camp -side of the lake. He was already getting the -knack of handling the little craft with greater -ease, so that they slipped softly under an overhanging -maple branch and entered the weed-bordered -reach of water without a splash.</p> -<p>“That’s right!” whispered Brick. “Keep -quiet, or you’ll scare ’em. Say! Who’s that -guy?” He pointed.</p> -<p>Dirk clumsily shipped his oars, and at the -sound a man on a little hillock above them -wheeled sharply and stared, at the same time -whipping one hand behind his back. The keel of -the boat grated on the shore, barely missing -a slender bamboo fishing rod that lay there -neglected.</p> -<p>The man ran toward them.</p> -<p>“Sorry, sir!” cried Dirk cheerily. “We seem -to have spoiled your fishing for you.”</p> -<p>The stranger did not return his smile. He -stared for a second, then queerly enough, exclaimed: -“Why, if it ain’t young Van Horn!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_146">146</div> -<p>For a space there was silence, except for the -resounding thuds of axes on wood and the far -shouts of boys toward the head of the creek -where, Dirk recalled, a woodcraft squad was -building a bridge of birch-trunks. He surveyed -the unknown fisherman. The man was short -and slender; and his dress was poorly adapted to -the waterside, for he wore a suit of creased and -dusty serge, and thin-soled, pointed low shoes. -A cloth cap was pulled down over his pale face, -almost hiding a pair of the steeliest blue eyes -Dirk had ever seen, that stared at him coldly all -the while as the man stood, hands behind back, -biting his lip as if he would have cut short his -surprising cry of recognition.</p> -<p>Brick Ryan had all this time spoken no word. -Finally Dirk broke the uncomfortable silence.</p> -<p>“How did you know my name?”</p> -<p>The man hesitated. “Why—I guess everybody -knows by sight a famous kid like you. I -thought I was right. Your old man’s the banker, -ain’t he? Say,” he went on more easily, “how -would you and your smart-lookin’ partner there -like to take a little joy-ride around the country -with me for half an hour or so? I got a little -car over by the road, and you can drive a ways -if you want to.”</p> -<p>Such an offer a few days previously might -well have tempted Dirk’s adventurous instincts; -but he remembered that he and Brick were -charged with a mission to perform.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_147">147</div> -<p>“That’s nice of you, especially since we upset -your fishing here,” he returned; “but Brick and -I have to take care of the mail. Besides, we -don’t leave the camp without permission.”</p> -<p>“Yeah, let’s beat it,” put in Brick, shoving -the oars into the rowlocks.</p> -<p>Dirk nodded, and began backing water. The -man made a quick step toward them, and his -right arm jerked impulsively; but he made no -effort to detain them. He stood gazing at them -with his cold blue eyes until they vanished again -beyond the leafy screen that hid the entrance to -the creek.</p> -<p>Once more heading across the lake toward -Heaven House, all thoughts of kingfishers’ nests -forgotten, Brick spoke reflectively.</p> -<p>“There’s something funny about that bird,” -he began. “Ever seen him before, Van?”</p> -<p>“Why, not that I remember. Funny he knew -my name. I guess we spoiled his fishing—too -bad.”</p> -<p>Brick snorted. “Haven’t you got eyes? He’s -no fisherman—not in that outfit. His rod didn’t -even have bait on the line, and besides, any sap -would know that there’s no fish in that part of -the creek.”</p> -<p>“Well, then, what was he doing?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_148">148</div> -<p>“He was spyin’, that’s what!” the red-haired -boy exploded. “Spyin’ on the camp, or I’m a -monkey’s uncle! I guess you didn’t notice when -we first saw him, but he was standin’ there on -the hill, lookin’ through the trees with a pair of -field glasses, straight at the lodge! He’s after -no good, if you ask me!”</p> -<p>“Why, Brick, are you sure?”</p> -<p>“Sure, I’m sure! What I want to know is, -what’s his game? ‘Let me take you for a joy-ride,’ -he says. Huh!” Brick spat into the -rippling wake of the boat.</p> -<p>Dirk pulled thoughtfully at the oars. They -were now nearing the wharf that was their goal.</p> -<p>“It’s puzzling, all right. But I still think -you’re too suspicious, Brick.” Nevertheless, he -was not altogether sure that Ryan’s distrust was -wholly without grounds, and he could not rid -himself of the feeling that he had somewhere -before seen that pale grim face and frosty eyes.</p> -<p>The two boys tied their craft at the end of the -jutting wharf, hauled the mail-sack ashore, and -between them carried it up the path to Heaven -House. The little cottage was empty at that -time, but the flower garden in front was carefully -weeded and tended. As they reached the -gate, a cloud of dust bearing up the Elmville -road told them that they had delivered their -burden with little time to spare.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_149">149</div> -<p>The rattling flivver that served the rural route -drew up before them with a screeching of brakes, -and Lem Shuttle, the driver, took off his straw -hat and wiped his bald head.</p> -<p>“That there the camp mail, boys?” he asked. -“Hot today, bean’t it? Got a mighty heap of -letters for ye to take back, and a couple parcels.”</p> -<p>Brick heaved the sack into the rear seat of the -rattletrap car. “Say, Lem,” he said, “we just -saw a strange guy fishin’ down by the creek. -Know who he is? Wearin’ a blue suit, and -doesn’t know much about how to catch fish.”</p> -<p>Lem scratched one ear. “Heard tell of him -as I come along. Peaked kind of little feller, -eh? Yep, he drove up to the Petties last night -in a blue sedan, and they took him in to board. -Give his name as Brown or McGillicuddy or -Harkins or some such. Claimed he wanted to do -a bit of fishin’.”</p> -<p>“Well, he was tryin’ to catch ’em without any -bait on his hook. Down by the creek, too.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_150">150</div> -<p>The mail-carrier chuckled. “Don’t surprise -me a mite, now! Them city folk is all of ’em -crazy as coots! Most of ’em don’t know oxen -from buttercups! Wal, got to be goin’.” He -tossed out the sack of incoming mail, released -the brakes, and stepped on the gas. “Giddap, -Napoleon!”</p> -<p>The boys watched him as he careened off down -the dusty road. Brick Ryan nodded reflectively.</p> -<p>“H’mm! He wants to catch some fish, so he -takes along a pair of field glasses to see ’em with! -Stayin’ up at the Pettie house. Well, Van, old -oyster, I’ll bet you this won’t be the last time -we see Mr. Nosey Fisherman, or my name’s not -F. X. A. Ryan!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_151">151</div> -<h2 id="c13"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER XIII</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">ON THE MARCH</span></h2> -<p>The mysterious fisherman, none the less, was -pushed out of Dirk’s mind by the crowded -hours of the camp routine. There were still half -a dozen blank spaces on the emblem card that -pointed his way to the Long Trail; and as the -end of the week drew near, he was in a fever of -excitement, wondering if ever he would complete -all the needful tests in time.</p> -<p>His day of service as aide to Tent One was -finished without mishap; and late the same afternoon -he managed, after scorching a pan of rice -and burning his fingers, to produce an edible -meal cooked over an open fire built by himself. -On Friday morning he rose before Reveille and -in company with Long Jim Avery and Nig -Jackson penetrated silently into the dewy woods, -noting the plumage and song of many birds that -Long Jim pointed out to the interested boys. -At the performance that evening of the Lenape -Vode-Villians on the improvised stage in the -lodge, he won applause with a short act entitled -“A Wee Drop of Scotch.” In golf sox, a kilt -made of a plaid blanket, and a tam-o’-shanter, -he sang several songs of Scotland and cracked -all the jokes he knew about the canny race, -marking his points with a crooked and knobbed -cane cut from one of Farmer Podgett’s apple -trees.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_152">152</div> -<p>One by one the blank spaces on the card were -filled in by the initials of some councilor. On -Saturday afternoon Dirk, after helping Jim -Avery after lunch at the store, raced to the boat -dock and took his final swimming test, diving -into the water head-first as Brick Ryan had -taught him, and rounding a life-boat stationed -fifty yards out, in all handling himself so neatly -that he won a nod from Wally Rawn and a -promise to be allowed to help keep the score in -the inter-tent Boat Regatta that afternoon.</p> -<p>Dirk arose at dawn on Sunday morning, when -around him all the camp was asleep. He shivered -as he looked into the misty drizzle that fell -among the pines; but screwing up his resolution, -threw off the warm blankets and slipped into his -heavier clothing and high laced boots. His woodcraft -exhibit, a rustic birchwood bench circling -the wild-cherry tree beyond the lodge, was still -uncompleted; and his skill at axmanship was far -from great. He sighed as he shouldered his hand -ax and went through the dripping woods to a -grove of birches beyond the Council Ring; but -the work warmed him in short order, and he was -soon whistling as he trimmed the smooth white -saplings and split them for his purpose.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_153">153</div> -<p>It still lacked half an hour to Reveille—which -always came later on Sundays—when Dirk -stepped back from his work at the base of the -cherry tree, and surveyed his progress. The -little bench needed only a few more slats in the -seat to be completed and ready for the use of all -campers; the braces were as steady as Dirk -could make them, each sunk some inches into the -ground and set with wedged rocks. The boy -stood sucking his thumb, which had received a -blow of his ax-head instead of the nail at which -he had aimed; and thus he was unaware that the -Chief had approached in his silent fashion and -was at his elbow.</p> -<p>The Chief’s face was as unreadable as ever as -he nodded in answer to Dirk’s “Good morning!” -merely striding to the bench and testing it -with his weight. Sitting there, he gazed at the -eager lad and smiled gravely.</p> -<p>“A good bench,” he said, and paused. Then:</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_154">154</div> -<p>“Dirk, you’ve been working mighty hard on -your emblem, haven’t you?”</p> -<p>“I only have two more things to finish, sir.”</p> -<p>“H’mm. Dirk, what would you say if I told -you that, even if you finished these two things, -you couldn’t go on the Long Trail this year?”</p> -<p>The boy’s face went white, and he gulped.</p> -<p>“I—I’d say you know best about that sir,” -but his lip trembled with disappointment.</p> -<p>The Chief, who had been watching him closely, -laughed—rather cruelly, as Dirk thought.</p> -<p>“Let me see your emblem card.” He took it -from Dirk’s hand, and pointed to the thirteenth -item. “It says here that any boy winning the -Lenape honor emblem must show at all times -the finest spirit as an all-round camper. Well, -any boy who can answer me as you have just -done——Look there!”</p> -<p>He pointed behind the lodge, where a large -hay-wagon pulled by two horses came into sight, -sweeping toward the road leading up the mountain. -Upon it were securely lashed three canoes—and -on top, gleaming red, was the <i>Sachem</i>. -The <i>Sachem</i>!</p> -<p>The Chief was scrawling his initials on the -two empty spaces of the card. Dirk let out a -whoop like an Iroquois on the warpath.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_155">155</div> -<p>“I’m going, Chief!” he cried. “You mean -it! I’m going on the Long Trail!”</p> -<p>“It looks that way. Last night I got an -answer from my telegram to your father. He’s -given his permission for you to join Sagamore -Carrigan’s trailers. You still have much to -learn, Dirk, but with this new spirit of yours, I -think you’ll win out!” He clasped hands with -the dancing boy.</p> -<p>At breakfast, Mr. Carrigan ordered that all -Long Trailers report to him immediately to have -their outfits inspected, and to receive instructions. -Within fifteen minutes Dirk and Brick -Ryan had carried several armloads of belongings -up to the lodge porch and stacked them alongside -of the kits of their five comrades who had -been chosen to bear the Lenape flag. Cowboy -Platt, lounging at the rail, opened his eyes wide -as he took in the heap of things that Dirk had -thought necessary to bring.</p> -<p>“You shore must be goin’ to take a pack-hoss -along to tote all that,” he remarked in his sleepy -drawl. “Wait till old Wise-Tongue sees that -pile, pardner!”</p> -<p>Sure enough, when Mr. Carrigan arrived a -few minutes later, his first words were on the -necessity of “travelling light.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_156">156</div> -<p>“We’re going Indian fashion,” he began, -“and since each one of you will have to carry -all your outfit on your back, we must take only -the things that we cannot do without. Now, -Dirk, suppose that when we come to the first -portage, you have to pack all those clothes and -shoes and that big flash-lantern, as well as your -blankets and your end of the canoe! Let’s see -what you can do without.”</p> -<p>The councilor began laying aside only those -belongings that would be needed on the trip. -When he had finished, Dirk found his kit reduced -to a sturdy hiking outfit of khaki shirt and -breeches, puttees, and high shoes, a change of -underclothing, a warm sweater, and four pairs -of socks. In addition, he had for canoe-work a -pair of shorts and light shoepacks. Since two -boys would sleep together, one large warm -blanket and rubber poncho apiece was adjudged -sufficient, even though the mountain nights would -be cool.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_157">157</div> -<p>“I’m glad to see you have a pocket compass -and a good knife,” concluded Sagamore Carrigan. -“I’ll take my large woodsman’s ax, and -Sanders will take his hand ax—that should be -enough for the whole party. Cowboy Platt here -has offered to do all the cooking, if we take -turns at K.P. I’ve drawn from the kitchen only -the grub that we can’t get along the way, and -we’ll save it for ‘iron rations’ in the back-country. -Ellick also gave me some pots and -pans, but each trailer will have to take his own -cup and plate and fork. Before we leave tomorrow, -I’ll have another inspection and try to -see that we don’t forget anything we need. -Have your blanket-rolls ready immediately after -breakfast. Any questions about outfits?”</p> -<p>Spaghetti Megaro and young Brown had need -of the councilor’s advice about selecting certain -of their garments. After he had given it, he -unrolled a large map and tacked it to the pine -shingles of the lodge wall, where all could see.</p> -<p>“I want you trailers to get every line of this -map into your minds,” he urged. “Learn it so -you could draw it blindfolded. It will be riding -in my pocket for the whole trip, and whenever -any of you has a minute to spare, study it. -You can see that I’ve lined in the Long Trail -in red ink.”</p> -<p>Dirk breathed faster as his eyes followed -Sagamore Wise-Tongue’s pointing finger.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_158">158</div> -<p>“Here’s Lenape, and way off here in the -corner is old Mount Kinnecut, where nine green-and-white -pennants are flying. That’s where -we’ve got to go, and we’ll make it in three days, -if all goes well. The first day’s run—tomorrow—will -be an easy stage, just to get in trim and -harden up. And see that your feet are in good -shape, for that’s what you’ll have to travel on -most of the way. We’ll stop at Pot-Hole Glen -at noon, and make the river before dark. The -canoes left on a wagon this morning, and we’ll -find them at Skinner’s Ferry when we get there. -Now, I’ll leave this map posted here for the rest -of the day, so that you can get its details clear -in mind before we leave. Anything else?”</p> -<p>“Yes, I got one!” put in Ugly Brown. -“Who’s going to carry the flag?”</p> -<p>Sagamore Wise-Tongue smiled, and drew -from his blouse a triangular bit of green bunting -on which was stitched a large L in white. “The -trailer who carries this,” he said, “will have to -be watchful and cunning, for he will bear with -him the honor of all of us, and the honor of -Lenape. I’ll leave it to you to choose which -trailer it shall be.”</p> -<p>Before anyone else could speak, Dirk cried -out: “Brick Ryan! He’s the best of us! Let it -be Brick, sir!”</p> -<p>“Sure,” agreed Megaro, “I bet you my life -Brick is the one. I vote for him too.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_159">159</div> -<p>The others added their votes with shouts of -approval; even Ugly Brown, who secretly had -hoped to be the standard-bearer, swallowed his -disappointment, and taking the banner, presented -it to Ryan, whose face grew almost as red -as his flaming hair.</p> -<p>“I’ll take it,” he muttered with some feeling; -then, looking the leader straight in the eye, -added: “You can bet nobody is goin’ to get this -away from me, Wise-Tongue. It’s not goin’ to -leave me until we nail it to the flagpole on the -big mountain over beyond!”</p> -<p>With a cheer, the little council of war broke -up. Brick stowed the pennant inside his shirt.</p> -<p>“Thanks, kid,” he mumbled. “That was -swell of you to say that about me.”</p> -<p>“I meant it, Brick! Say, will you show me -how to make a blanket-roll?”</p> -<p>The day passed swiftly for Dirk, eager as he -was for the morning that would mark the beginning -of the Long Trail hike. He was kept -busy getting his outfit into shape and seeing -that everything was in order; but he found time -now and again to study the map posted on the -wall. The names on it gave him a thrill that -he could not have explained—Flint Island, Lake -Moosehorn, the Chain of Ponds, even the few -scattered towns that lay among the folds of the -hills that skirted Mount Kinnecut. He was a -Long Trailer now!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_160">160</div> -<p>When dusk fell, and the whippoorwills could -be heard trilling in the thickets, the Lenape tribe -draped their blankets about them and trooped to -council. There was no happier or prouder member -of that tribe than Dirk Van Horn when, at -the time for awards and coups, he rose and was -given his honor emblem before the throne of the -Chief. It seemed impossible that little more -than a week had passed since he had first landed -on the Lenape campus. So many wonderful -things had happened that he felt a different person -from the—as he thought, looking back—pitifully -ignorant tenderfoot who had tried to -buy Brick Ryan’s friendship with an expensive -gift. He had that friendship now, but he had -won it as a man should.</p> -<p>He drifted off to sleep clutching his new -honor, and when he awoke at dawn, rose and -sewed it carefully on the front of the sweater -that he would wear on the trail. Brick Ryan -was astir too, dressing in his worn hiking clothes -and rolling his blankets into a neat pack to be -strapped over his shoulders. He winked over at -Dirk and whispered: “The pennant is still safe, -by gollies! I pinned it to my pajama shirt with -a big blanket-pin!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_161">161</div> -<p>The eight trailers were off up the mountainside -before nine o’clock, after a brief but -thorough inspection by their leader. They -travelled in close marching order, for as Sagamore -Wise-Tongue explained, they were like a -war-party and must not lose their strength -through straggling or getting out of touch with -each other. It might be necessary, when they -were in wilder country, to put out scouts, but -since the road to Indian Glen was well known -to them, they would take it in regular stages.</p> -<p>Although Dirk’s unaccustomed blanket-roll -was heavy and grew heavier as the morning wore -on, his heart was light. He joined in the songs -of the gay trailers as they threaded their way -through the trees on the slope above camp, pausing -as they reached the road at Fiddler’s Elbow -and taking a last glance at the placid waters of -the lake and the white tents they were leaving -behind. Dirk laughed aloud as he thought of all -the adventures he would have before he again -caught sight of Camp Lenape. But had he -guessed that his life would be more than once in -wild danger on the path that lay before him, he -might well have shivered instead.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_162">162</div> -<p>Up and down, over one ridge after another of -the Lenape range, the boys took their way, resting -now and then for a few moments in the -shade beside some bubbling mountain spring. -Mr. Carrigan, in the lead, bearing a first-aid kit -and many other necessities in the knapsack over -which his blankets were strapped, strode along -silently, ever on the alert for some wilderness -creature that he might point out to his eager followers. -Once he pointed out the marks of a fox, -and several times their progress stirred up a -covey of stupid, drumming partridge. And in -one breathless instant, before they came to the -end of the forest, he paused and pointed through -the trees. Dirk caught a glimpse of a swift-moving -dun-colored animal that with a flick of -its stubby tail was off in long easy leaps to the -shelter of the far thickets—a young deer, the -first he had ever seen in its native haunts.</p> -<p>He marched beside Brick and Ugly Brown, -the young, snub-nosed lad whose blunt, sun-burnt -face was somewhat likable in its very ugliness. -He remembered that these two, with -Kipper Dabney, had hazed him one moonlight -night—long ago, it seemed—but he made no -mention to them of that night when he had -leaped, blindfolded, over Indian Cliff.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_163">163</div> -<p>“What’s this Glen like that we’re heading for, -Ugly?” Dirk asked.</p> -<p>“Ain’t you ever been there? Say, it’s a swell -place. We hike over here lots of times. Whillikers, -I’m ready for a swim there right now, -even if the water feels as if it had just melted -from snow. It’s called Pot-Hole Glen because -down below, the water has run across the rocks -so fast that there are a bunch of deep, smooth -holes worn down by pebbles whirlin’ around—right -through solid rock. It used to be an old -Indian camping place, I’ve heard. We’ll be -there soon, right after we cut across the fields -over yonder.”</p> -<p>At that moment Mr. Carrigan turned off the -dusty road and cut through a meadow where a -herd of white-faced cows grazed. Dirk climbed -the rail fence slowly, for he was hot and more -than a little tired by the march; but he joined -in the whoops of his companions as they raced -the short distance that separated them from the -goal of their noonday pause and the swim that -was to come. And thus Dirk Van Horn came -to Pot-Hole Glen, which he was never in his -life to remember without a chill of horror creeping -up his spine—the horror of strangling death.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_164">164</div> -<h2 id="c14"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER XIV</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">THE WATCHER AGAIN</span></h2> -<p>The little plateau above the Glen was a -pleasant place enough—a smooth, shadowy -stretch of greensward marked here and there -with the remains of more than one Lenape campfire. -Here the trailers paused only long enough -to cast off their blanket-packs, and then raced in -a body for the steep, twining path leading down -the wall carved out in past ages by the running -stream at its foot.</p> -<p>“Now for a swim!” was the cry as, helter-skelter, -the boys scrambled down the path that -zigzagged through the underbrush.</p> -<p>Dirk paused at the bottom of the cleft, and -falling slightly behind the others, searched for -the pot-holes that Ugly Brown had described. -There they were—smooth shafts of varying -widths, sunken into the rocky floor over which -the stream trickled softly. Taking a stick, Dirk -probed one of them, and found at the bottom a -few water-worn stones whose action had drilled, -in the course of many decades, a deep hole in -solid granite.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_165">165</div> -<p>“The biggest hole of all is under the falls,” -Brick Ryan shouted from below him. “Come -on, my son—all the other guys are gettin’ wet -already!”</p> -<p>He disappeared from sight at a turn in the -path leading down-stream, from whence Dirk -could hear the boisterous shouts of his comrades -rising above the splashing roar of falling water. -None the less, he did not hasten, for the wonders -of the Glen were too many to be hastily passed -over.</p> -<p>He walked slowly, gazing at the many-colored -flowers and unknown trees that arched the -stream. Several hundred yards down, the path -wound about a steep drop over which the water -boiled and bubbled—a miniature Niagara. From -his place, Dirk could look directly down into a -seething basin hollowed in the rock. Below this -fell away the bed of the stream in an incline of -sheeted, mossy shale, upon which sprawled the -naked forms of the trailers. Wild Willie Sanders, -with ear-splitting yells, was coasting down -the slide head first, and landed in the broad pool -below like a noisy otter.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_166">166</div> -<p>Spray from the falls sprinkled Dirk’s face, -and he hurried to strip off his dusty garments -and join in the fun. As he took his place on the -slide, the rills of water from the side of the falls -were so icy that he cried out.</p> -<p>“Brr-r-r! Boy, talk about cold!”</p> -<p>“Get warmed up swimming down here in the -pool,” advised Sagamore Carrigan, who was -floating about in the crystal water beneath the -slide. “Then you won’t feel it!”</p> -<p>Dirk watched Spaghetti Megaro, who was -plunging a long pole into the great pot-hole -directly underneath the falls. The pole sank out -of sight, and shortly after shot into the air, to -be caught by the Italian lad.</p> -<p>“That’s plenty deep, you bet!” grinned -Megaro. “They call this one the Devil’s Cauldron. -Some shower-bath if you get in this tub! -Once when I was here, Wally Rawn got in and -tried to dive down to bottom—but he didn’t find -no bottom, not at all. He got out plenty quick.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_167">167</div> -<p>Dirk hastily removed himself from the brink -of the treacherous-looking hole, and joined the -divers who plunged into the pebble-bottomed -pool below. The swim period was short, not only -because the hikers were hungry, but because the -water was so chill that too long exposure might -be dangerous to health. After a brisk rub-down -the trailers, glowing with vim, donned their cast-off -clothes and started for the plateau above, -where Cowboy Platt was already building a -small cooking-fire for the noonday meal.</p> -<p>Lingering behind alone, Dirk dressed slowly, -pausing now and then to watch the flight of a -bird, or to mark some strange formation of rock -along the walls of the Glen. At last he picked -up his dripping towel and started up the path to -rejoin his friends.</p> -<p>When he came once more to the bend directly -above the falls, he paused for a last look at the -impressive sight. As he stared down at the -racing waters, a clump of star-shaped flowers on -a tough-leafed bush caught his eye. He had -never seen such strange bright blossoms before, -but Sagamore Carrigan could tell him all about -them. It struck him that it would be a good -thing to get some and take them with him to the -others.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_168">168</div> -<p>Spreading his feet firmly on the slippery path, -he reached down to snatch the plant from its -perch in a crevice in the rocky cliff. It was too -far. He knelt, and dropping one leg over to -balance himself, made a second attempt. Still -the nodding flowers were a tantalizingly few -inches from the tips of his fingers. Tossing his -head with annoyance, he made a swift swoop. -As his hand touched the fringe of the bush, he -felt the earth beneath his weight stir and slip.</p> -<p>In sudden terror, he dropped the fragment -of the bush and dug in the toes of his heavy -shoes, painfully trying to scramble back to -safety. He grunted with the effort; but inch by -inch the treacherous loose dirt gave way. A -fearful glance over his shoulder, and he shut his -eyes, dizzied by the hissing rush of the leaping -rapids beneath his kicking legs. A rattle of -stones; and then, with a despairing shriek, he -plunged backward into the foaming falls!</p> -<p>The breath was knocked from his chest as he -struck the seething surface of the giant pot-hole—the -Devil’s Cauldron! Down, down he sank, -freezing water filling his nose and open mouth -and shutting off all chance of summoning help. -The sunshine was far above him, seen dimly -through a glassy green froth, and the roar of -the rattling falls was drumming in his ears.</p> -<p>Desperately he kicked his leaden feet and -fought his way upward, the blood hammering in -his veins. One outstretched arm caught at the -slippery edge of the hole and clung fiercely.</p> -<p>Upon his unsheltered head, battering drops fell -like hailstones.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_169">169</div> -<p>He had barely time to suck in a mouthful of -air when the force of the spinning current tore -his handhold loose, and again he dropped into -the Cauldron’s depths. This time he felt weaker, -chilled by the glacial stream and beaten by its -pounding force. It was dark now. Dimly he -wondered if they would ever find his body in -that bottomless well....</p> -<p>An unseen hand was gripping him by the hair, -hauling him upward toward light and life. -Again the bullets of water struck his face and -throat, but strong arms were about his shoulders. -His chest scraped against the jagged margin of -the pool; like a sodden bag of meal, he was pulled -out of the clutch of that grim torrent.</p> -<p>He gasped, spat, and rolled over on his back. -Somewhere above him, a bird was whistling. He -opened one eye. Bending over him, with a -serious look on his freckled face, was Brick Ryan.</p> -<p>“Are you alive, my lad? Gorries, say you’re -all right!”</p> -<p>Dirk choked, and tried to sit up, but fell back -weakly.</p> -<p>“I—I’m safe! It was horrible, down -there——”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_170">170</div> -<p>“Now, don’t try to talk. Take it easy for a -minute. There, that better? Gee, you sure must -have had a bad time of it! I was comin’ along -down the creek to see what was keepin’ you, and -heard you yell.”</p> -<p>“I was—trying to get some of those flowers -up there, and slipped.”</p> -<p>Above him, through his moist eyelashes, he -saw the coveted blossoms swaying slightly in the -midday breeze.</p> -<p>“Huh! Well, that’s called rhododendron, and -it’s against the law to pick it in this state! If -you’re feelin’ better, I’ll help you up to camp, -and we’ll dry out your duds.”</p> -<p>Fearing that delay might bring severe consequences, -Dirk crawled to his feet, and shivering -in his sodden garments, allowed himself to -be led up-stream, leaning heavily upon the lad -who had pulled him from that deadly bath. At -the foot of the path leading to the camping -place, he turned and faced his friend.</p> -<p>“Brick,” he said soberly, “you’ve saved my -life. I—I can’t put it in words, but if ever -there’s anything——”</p> -<p>The red-haired boy grinned and patted his -arm. “Forget it!” he muttered gruffly. “You’d -have done the same if it had been me.”</p> -<p>“But all the same——”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_171">171</div> -<p>“Come on, old son, before you freeze to death. -Climb, my lad!”</p> -<p>At the summit, the rest of the trailers were -lying about on their packs, and there was a brisk -smell of wood-smoke and frying bacon in the air. -Mr. Carrigan leaped to his feet as he saw the two -boys, and without asking for any explanation, -had Dirk’s dripping garments stripped off in -short order, and after a rough rub-down he was -stowed between a pair of warm blankets and told -to rest.</p> -<p>Dirk had been living in the open for more than -a week now, and long before his wet clothes were -dried before the fire, he felt none the worse for -the mishap that might so easily have taken his -life. The councilor brewed him a cup of warm, -heartening soup that brought his strength back -quickly; and when an hour had passed he convinced -the man that he was himself again and -ready to travel.</p> -<p>“We don’t have far to go now,” announced -Sagamore Carrigan. “It’s only a couple miles -to the river and Skinner’s Ferry, where the -canoes are; and from there we can paddle to -Kittahannock Lodge in no time—that’s where -we stop for the night.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_172">172</div> -<p>Once more the hikers put their blanket-rolls -over their shoulders and set out, following the -dirt road that led westward from the Glen -toward the river. The councilor now had a hard -time to keep them together, so anxious were they -to reach the ferry where the canoes waited for -them; but he held them to the same steady pace. -Dirk was forced to admit to himself that he was -tired now, and he was glad when they crossed a -stone bridge over a creek and came in sight of -the ferry.</p> -<p>An unpainted, low frame building with a roof -of “shakes,” or shingles split with an ax, lay -beside a rude wharf at which was moored a flat-bottomed -scow. Such was the ancient Skinner’s -Ferry that dated back to Revolutionary days. -On the wharf lay the three Lenape canoes, ready -for their voyage into the wilderness. There was -now no thought of restraining the eager lads, and -Dirk, with the rest, broke into a run that ended -on the narrow wharf. An old and bent ferryman -came from the house to announce that the equipment -brought from camp on the wagon awaited -them within.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_173">173</div> -<p>Now began a busy half-hour of packing and -launching the light craft. It was settled that -Dirk and Brick Ryan would handle the <i>Sachem</i>, -in which would be stowed the cooking outfit, -rations, and odds and ends of camp outfit, while -the other members of the party divided into two -crews of three campers each to manage the <i>Red -Fox</i> and the <i>Whiffenpoof</i>. When the equipment -had all been stowed inside the rubber tarpaulins -and lashed firmly to the thwarts, so that -it would not be wet or lost in case of an upset, -Dirk and his partner each took an end of their -vessel and dropped it overside into the sheltered -water below the wharf. As Dirk climbed into -his place at the bow, he took care to make sure -that his first misadventure with his canoe at -Lenape should not be repeated; and in the wake -of the other two craft, they shoved forth into the -stream, shouted a farewell to the bent ferryman, -and began paddling swiftly.</p> -<p>Mr. Carrigan, in the stern of the <i>Red Fox</i>, -led the way, with Megaro at the bow paddle and -Ugly Brown riding amidships. At a distance -of a few lengths followed the <i>Whiffenpoof</i>, -carrying Cowboy Platt, Saunders, and Steve -Link. Dirk dipped and pulled his paddle in fast -time, for their course lay diagonally across the -current, which at this place rippled whitely over -its stony bed.</p> -<p>“Make for the point!” shouted the councilor.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_174">174</div> -<p>“That’s Kittahannock Lodge, where we sleep -tonight!”</p> -<p>Ahead the broad river made a turn, and at the -bend a tall white flagpole rose from a clump of -trees, tinged with sunset gold. Dirk gave it a -glance, and bent to his straining task, while Brick -fulfilled the delicate job of keeping the light -vessel on its path. On flew the <i>Sachem</i>, as if -glad to be afloat and bearing her owner farther -and farther toward the northern wilds.</p> -<p>Once Dirk paused momentarily to catch his -breath. He looked back to the shore that they -were leaving. A road wound along the edge of -the river, above the ferry, and along it crawled -a small automobile with a plume of dust rising -behind it. Dirk saw it only for a moment before -it disappeared from sight behind a low hill. But -he was sure, as he turned again to his paddling, -that the car was a blue sedan, and that he knew -the slight figure of the man that hunched over -the wheel. It was the mysterious fisherman they -had surprised on the shore of Lake Lenape some -days before.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_175">175</div> -<h2 id="c15"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER XV</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">THE TRAP ON FLINT ISLAND</span></h2> -<p>Sagamore Carrigan and his trailers -were greeted in hearty fashion by the -campers of Kittahannock Lodge, and the director, -who each year was glad to extend his hospitality -to the Lenape Long Trailers, offered an -empty tent-house to the canoe party. He also -invited them to supper at the lodge, but when -Mr. Carrigan explained that they had provisions -with them, assigned them a grassy spot above the -river. Here, after they had washed up in the -camp bath-house, the trailers were drawn about -the fire by the aroma of Cowboy Platt’s cookery, -and attacked with no little gusto the meal he -handed out.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_176">176</div> -<p>As soon as each man had washed his plate and -fork, the trailers joined in the campfire merriment -of the Kittahannock tribe within the lodge -of hewn timber, on the walls of which were hung -many examples of their woodcraft skill and collections -of natural objects. The band was a -lively and merry crowd, and the Lenape lads -joined in the fun in friendly spirit. Games and -stunts passed the time until the call to quarters -sounded, and the eight hikers sought their cabin -sleepily with many thoughts of their exciting -first day on the trail.</p> -<p>Sagamore Carrigan yawned as he pulled his -blankets over him and switched off his flash-lantern. -“Not many stars out,” he remarked; -“and I didn’t like the way the campfire smoke -hung low in the chimney tonight. I wouldn’t be -at all surprised if we had a wet cruise tomorrow, -fellows.”</p> -<p>Dirk woke in the night to hear a splatter of -drops on the roof of the tent-house; and he fell -asleep again thinking drowsily that the leader’s -words had come true. The next morning -dawned mistily over a wet world, and a swirling -fog hung low over the river, shrouding the -farther shore. The gloomy weather, though, -penetrated no deeper than the ponchos of the -Lenape boys, who after a warming breakfast, -were afloat at an early hour. In a mysterious -silence they pushed off into the overhung waters -to continue their cruise up-stream, keeping close -together so that no canoe should be separated -from the others in the fog.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_177">177</div> -<p>After an hour’s stiff paddling against the -stubborn current, they saw the sun shine through -once or twice, and the fog cleared away. But it -was plain to be seen that the rain would continue -steadily throughout the day. Through the downpour, -Dirk caught sight of the river banks, now -much closer together than they had been at Skinner’s -Ferry. Shallow rapids became much more -frequent, and Brick in the stern had to exercise -unusual care to see that the <i>Sachem’s</i> bottom -was not ripped on some jagged rock.</p> -<p>Dirk, paddling doggedly with his arms thrust -through the slits in his rubber poncho, felt the -muscles of his shoulders stiffening with the unwonted -labor; and he was happy when, in the -middle of the morning, the little fleet came into -sight of the white houses of the small river town -of Port Jermyn. They tied up at the wharf -where the main street of the town ended, and -strolled about through the rain-swept village -while the councilor, assisted by Steve Link, purchased -the supplies that would be their sole provisions -until their return from the wilds into -which they were about to plunge.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_178">178</div> -<p>The stop at Port Jermyn, short as it was, -refreshed the paddlers, and Dirk found that he -had gained his second wind. He still retained -his place in the bow, however, for he did not feel -that he owned the skill necessary to guide the -<i>Sachem</i> through the ever-increasing shallows of -the river above the town. Feeling that he had -left civilization behind for some time to come, -he worked with a will, chewing a piece of butterscotch -and waiting patiently for the signal that -would mean a halt for the midday meal.</p> -<p>Shortly after noon, Mr. Carrigan beckoned to -the following canoeists to turn off the main -stream into the mouth of a wide creek flowing -from the west. A few hundred yards from the -outlet, they turned their craft toward the bank, -and climbed out stiffly to stretch and gather dry -wood for a smoky fire built beneath the shielding -branches of a large oak. The canoes were -turned on their sides, ponchos were taken off and -stretched on sticks above the openings, and -within these snug shelters the trailers lounged on -their backs and lazily devoured heaping plates of -beans and bread and slightly damp cookies.</p> -<p>“We-all are goin’ to fix some spaghetti for -supper, in your honor, Wop!” Cowboy Platt -twitted Megaro. “How will you like that?”</p> -<p>“O. K., I bet!” answered the Italian boy. -“Say, maybe I catch some bullheads in Lake -Moosehorn, and if I get more than fifty, I give -you one to eat in your honor!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_179">179</div> -<p>Dirk laughed, not because the joke was good, -but because he was well fed and warm and happy -to be with such a game crowd of campers. -Although the rain might have dampened the -holiday moods of many boys, not one of these -lads had uttered a word of complaint. Later -that eventful day, Dirk was to look back wistfully -at that scene; for neither he nor Brick -Ryan was fated to partake of that contemplated -meal of fish and spaghetti on the shore of Lake -Moosehorn.</p> -<p>Refreshed and rested, the boys broke camp -and prepared to leave the broad river behind. -Dirk recalled that this stream they were now -following must be the Sweetwater Creek shown -on the map that Sagamore Carrigan carried in -his breast pocket. If so, it would lead to the -first of the Chain of Ponds, where the first -portage would begin.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_180">180</div> -<p>His surmise was correct. Close together, their -bows sometimes brushing overhanging limbs of -trees as they rounded a bend in the creek and a -new reach of rain-spattered water met the paddlers’ -eyes, the three canoes wended up-stream. -On either side the walls of the forest closed in -about them, and in some places it was as gloomy -as though it had been nightfall instead of broad -afternoon. Before two miles had slipped past -their dripping paddles, the creek ended in a -rough dam of logs that marked the outlet of the -lowest of the ponds; and here was the first -portage.</p> -<p>It was a short one, merely circling the dam -and so to another launching on the dark mirror-like -water of the pond. The boys landed and -hauled their canoes ashore; then, without bothering -to remove the contents, they each seized an -end and carried the craft up a narrow trail, -slippery with weeds and mud, to the edge of the -pond. Once more afloat, they pulled through the -dripping rain in the rippling wake of the <i>Red -Fox</i>. Dirk, brushing the drops from his glistening -face, wondered how the leader could find his -way through the winding passage. Reeds and -ugly, misshapen snags jutted upward from the -murky, black bottom covered with dead leaves, -and somehow brought a chill to the boy in the -canoe, so close were they beneath his paddle. He -wondered what would happen to any daring soul -that might try to swim in the dark forbidding -water.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_181">181</div> -<p>Sagamore Carrigan knew his way, however, -and unerringly came out at the end where the -next portage began. This was a long one, for -these two ponds were connected only by a -swampy trickle that wound across hummocks of -mud. For half a mile the boys threaded through -the ankle-deep muck; and though the councilor -sent Spaghetti Megaro back to bear a part of the -overburdened <i>Sachem</i>, Dirk was ready to call a -halt before a third of the way had been traversed. -Gritting his teeth, he tried to forget the cutting, -swaying load pressing his aching shoulders, -meanwhile thanking his stars that his shoes were -strong and waterproof.</p> -<p>By the end of the afternoon all the trailers, -although they would not have admitted it under -torture, were heartily sick of ponds and portages. -Everlastingly climbing in and out of the vessels, -slipping and sliding through an overgrown footpath -with one end of a staunch canoe on one’s -shoulder and dripping branches catching at garments -and whipping into one’s face, all in a -semi-darkness that depressed the heartiest spirit—it -seemed to all of them that they could not -last out another hour of this winding progress -through the lowlands, when from the van came -Sagamore Wise-Tongue’s cheering cry: “Lake -Moosehorn ahead!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_182">182</div> -<p>The broad expanse of clear water uplifted the -souls of all. Dirk, feeling glad that reeds and -snags and winding dark ponds were left behind -at last, threw himself on a grassy bank beside -his canoe, breathing a sigh of relief. It was late -in the afternoon and the rain had slackened to -a filmy drizzle. Across from them loomed the -hump of Flint Island, while over the tree-clad -summit of Mount Kinnecut toward the west, the -descending sun was bravely trying to show forth -before sinking into night.</p> -<p>“We’ll be pitching camp inside an hour, men,” -said the leader. “Our headquarters will be at -the old spot at the far end of the lake, up by -that tall dead spruce. From there we’ll have to -use our feet instead of our paddles, to make the -summit of Kinnecut.”</p> -<p>“Huh!” remarked Ugly Brown. “I’ve been -usin’ my feet all day. I don’t mind hikin’, if I -don’t have to carry a canoe with me. Why, after -today, I’ll probably race up to the top of that -little mountain tomorrow just to get an appetite -for breakfast!”</p> -<p>“We’ll never even pitch camp before dark if -you yearlings don’t stop argufyin’ and get -started,” drawled Cowboy. “I want lots of -wood cut for the fire, and somebody mentioned -he was goin’ to hook some fish.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_183">183</div> -<p>“Well, we’ll move along, then, and do our -resting when we get to camp,” said Mr. Carrigan. -“It’s the old earth that will be your bed -tonight, if I don’t cut some spruce tips for -mattresses—so let’s be on our way!”</p> -<p>The <i>Red Fox</i> and the <i>Whiffenpoof</i> pushed -out on the lake for the last lap of the day’s long -journey.</p> -<p>“Well,” asked Brick Ryan, paddle in hand, -“aren’t you goin’ to stir, my son?”</p> -<p>“I suppose so.” Dirk rose stiffly, and -stretched. “Gollies, I hate to move, though. I -could go to sleep right now.”</p> -<p>“Not here, my bucko.” The red-headed boy -playfully prodded his canoe-mate in the ribs. -“Stir your stumps. Look, the other guys are -almost out of sight around Flint Island. Old -Wise-Tongue is wavin’ for us to come on.”</p> -<p>The two foremost canoes vanished behind the -bulk of the little island as the <i>Sachem</i> pushed -out.</p> -<p>“Steer over along the shore of the island, will -you?” asked Dirk, after a moment. “I thought -I saw something moving in the bushes. It looked -like——See it? Why, it’s a man! And he’s -waving to us! What do you suppose he wants?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_184">184</div> -<p>He quickened his stroke, and they pulled -toward the rocky edge where the waterline of -the lake marked the island. A low, hoarse cry -rose from the twilight of the thickets.</p> -<p>“Ay! Help me, you come help! I caught!”</p> -<p>A man’s head was visible through a gap between -the trees. The hair was long and black, -the skin dark, and the features that could be -made out were rugged and wild-looking. The -voice was that of one in pain.</p> -<p>“Why, it’s an Indian! Hurry, Brick—he’s -hurt. Maybe a tree fell on him!”</p> -<p>“Don’t you think you better take it slow till -you know what’s up?”</p> -<p>“Nonsense! He needs us right away. Here’s -a good place to land.” Dirk leaped ashore as he -spoke, and ran to the spot where the Indian lay -moaning in his broken pidgin-English.</p> -<p>As he approached, the man rose to his feet and -leaped at the boy like a wildcat. As the outstretched -arms caught Dirk about the shoulders -and threw him backward, he realized, too late, -what was happening.</p> -<p>“Get away, Brick!” he screamed. “It’s a -trick!” He fell on the rocky ground, with the -strange Indian upon him, holding his body so -that he could not move an inch, nor see what -Brick was doing.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_185">185</div> -<p>“No, he won’t get away,” said a cruel, level -voice. “And if you yelp once more, young Van -Horn, you’ll get a bullet in your noisy mouth!”</p> -<p>Dirk felt the heavy body above him suddenly -removed; the Indian was rising to his feet. The -boy staggered upward, and was again thrown to -the earth by a fierce thrust.</p> -<p>“Lie there and cool off!” ordered the unseen. -“Yes, I’ve got a gun on you, and on your smart -pal, too. Get out of that canoe quick, Red, if -you know what’s good for you.”</p> -<p>“If you didn’t have that pistol on me,” muttered -Brick Ryan savagely through clenched -teeth, “I’d—I’d——”</p> -<p>“Enough of that!”</p> -<p>At last Dirk made out the form of the man -who, with the aid of the rascally Indian, had -trapped them. He felt only a dull throb of surprise -as he recognized him. Brick’s warning at -Lake Lenape had been justified, after all. The -mysterious fisherman had tracked them down -and caught them alone at last.</p> -<p>The man deliberately walked up to Brick, the -gleaming nose of his pistol showing in his right -hand. With his left he thrust swiftly upward. -There was the sound of a blow against flesh, and -Brick fell heavily upon the pebbled shore.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_186">186</div> -<p>“Lie there, both of you. Now, Mink,” their -captor addressed the Indian, “dump that stuff -out of their canoe and put it in ours. We need -it more than that dumb bunch of kids up the -lake. Then tie up these two birds tight, and -dump them in too. We’ve got to get away before -the ones up ahead come back to see what’s -wrong. Wish I could see their faces when they -find out!”</p> -<p>“What—what are you going to do with us?” -asked Dirk hoarsely.</p> -<p>The stranger laughed unpleasantly. “You’ll -find out soon enough, kid. Ready, Mink? That’s -good. Now, turn over that fancy red canoe and -shove it way out in the channel, so that when the -main gang come back, they’ll know for sure that -these two wise little scouts are drowned to death -and sunk to the bottom of the lake!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_187">187</div> -<h2 id="c16"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER XVI</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">FIRE IN THE FOREST</span></h2> -<p>Trussed with light rope like a pair of fowl -ready for slaughter, the two boys were lifted -one by one in the Indian’s arms and laid in the -bottom of his dirty canoe. Neither could speak, -for bandana handkerchiefs were knotted tightly -between their teeth, so that they had barely a -chance to breathe. They lay on the unyielding -ribs of the craft, which apparently leaked, for -several inches of chilly water sloshed about beneath -them and ran down their necks, soaking -their already damp clothing.</p> -<p>The tarpaulin-wrapped bundle containing the -provisions stolen from the Lenape trailers was -dumped next to their heads. The man with the -pistol crouched in the bow, his slicker thrown -open, now that the rain had stopped. His dark-skinned -henchman, whom he had called Mink, -cast another glance at the <i>Sachem</i>, which was -caught in the channel current and, bottom upward, -drifted toward the outlet. Then, seizing -his paddle, he pushed off the heavy-laden vessel -and began paddling furiously toward the far -shore.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_188">188</div> -<p>Although they were effectively hidden from -the eyes of any returning Lenape canoeists as -long as they kept the length of the island between -them, the two men kept a wary lookout until -they gained the shelter of the far shore, where -the deepening twilight hid them from any possibility -of discovery. Dirk, squirming painfully -in his bonds, could see only the body of the muscular -Mink above him, his moving head and arms -outlined against the purple sky, in which one star -already gleamed. He could hear Brick Ryan -breathing heavily beside him, and bit at his gag -angrily, realizing that he could help neither his -comrade nor himself. If only he had departed -with the other members of the party, the two -desperate men would not have had opportunity -to snare them as they had done. It had been all -his own fault, Dirk condemned himself. If only -he had listened to Brick——</p> -<p>But why were they thus trapped and taken -from their friends toward an unknown fate, leaving -an overturned canoe behind to give the cruel -impression that they had drowned? What was -the meaning of it? Why had this man, who now -sat slumped in the bow of the leaky canoe, followed -Dirk so relentlessly into the wilds?</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_189">189</div> -<p>He puzzled until his head throbbed, but could -piece out no answer to those questions. The -steady rhythm of the paddle might have lulled -him off to a fitful stupor, so weary was he; but -the filthy water in the bottom of the canoe -slapped him again and again into wakefulness. -It seemed as if hours passed before the canoe -made a sudden swerve shoreward, and the bottom -beneath him scraped on a gravel spit of land.</p> -<p>It was already quite dark. The two lads were -bundled out of the canoe and were glad to be -relieved from their painful position. Had their -captor not untied all their bonds save those holding -their hands behind their backs, they would -have fallen over when they were first put on their -feet; as it was, Dirk was forced to lean against -a tree to keep himself erect.</p> -<p>The Indian’s master pulled the gags from their -mouths with a warning. “Not a word out of -either of you! Not that it would do you any -good, at that. You don’t know where you are, -but I can tell you it’s miles from anybody that -could hear you, or would care what I did to you -if you yelled. So be good little kids and follow -my half-breed friend Mink. And remember, I -still have my gun handy.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_190">190</div> -<p>The half-breed, who during this time had been -pulling his canoe ashore and hiding it in a pile of -brush near by, now silently raised the pack of -provisions to his shoulder and began stolidly -tramping through the darkness. The driven boys -stumbled in his wake, too weary to know or care -where the overgrown path might lead. Behind -them marched the nameless man, who now and -then uttered an oath as he tripped over a root or -sank ankle-deep in a forest pool.</p> -<p>After half a mile, the guard dropped so far -behind that Dirk ventured a cautious whisper in -the direction of his friend; although, since the -half-breed looked back from time to time, it was -impossible to attempt a flight.</p> -<p>“Where do you think they’re taking us, -Brick?”</p> -<p>Brick shook his head hopelessly. “Don’t know—too -dark to see. I think we’re on the west side -of Moosehorn, but maybe not.”</p> -<p>“I’m sorry I was such a fool as to let them -take us so easily. If I’d listened to you——”</p> -<p>“Don’t worry, my lad.” Brick’s voice was -somehow cheering. “They won’t hurt you. Me, -maybe, but not you.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_191">191</div> -<p>“You mean—you know why they captured -us? I’ve been trying to figure it out. Why, why -did they do it?”</p> -<p>“Mean to tell me you don’t know? Why, -I’ve been suspectin’ it since the first time I saw -that guy with the gun. Don’t you realize that he -kidnaped you so that he could make your dad -pay a wad of money to get you back?”</p> -<p>Dirk Van Horn gasped incredulously. “But—kidnapers! -Why, my father isn’t a wealthy -man! He’s quite well off, but even if he is president -of a bank, he doesn’t own all the money -in it!”</p> -<p>“Well, wouldn’t he give all he’s got to have -you back home safe again? Sure, he’d do that, -and this tough bird that’s got us counts on it. -No, you’re safe until he gets some ransom for -you.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_192">192</div> -<p>“Quiet, there!” commanded an angry voice, -with a curse. Their guard had caught up to -them, and a wave of his weapon put a stop to -their whispered comments. But Dirk at last -understood why he was a prisoner. He understood, -too, the strange invitation of the man when -they had surprised him at Lake Lenape. He had -tried to lure them away from their friends, and -failing in that, had kept watch on the boy’s every -movement. Seeing that a capture was impossible -so close to the camp, he had somehow found out -about the long trail expedition, and no doubt -hiring the villainous half-breed Mink to help him -in his criminal purpose, had gone before them and -waylaid them at Flint Island by a ruse, at a time -when the two boys were by chance separated -from the main party.</p> -<p>At long last the man ahead stopped and put -down his burden. A dim shape loomed before -them, a rough hut of logs chinked with mud, that -was evidently the dwelling of the half-breed. He -fumbled with the latch on the door. The man in -the slicker tossed away a glowing cigarette, and -pushed them inside, harshly ordering Mink to -shut the door and cover the window before lighting -the lantern.</p> -<p>In the glow of the battered oil-lantern that the -half-breed brought forth, the boys looked about -with half-shut eyes. A heap of cured skins lay -in one corner, and the single room smelled vilely -of stale smoke and damp walls and animal remains. -The Indian knelt on the hearth of the -rough stone fireplace, but his master stopped him -with a word.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_193">193</div> -<p>“Quit that! Do you want to tell the world -where we are? They could see that smoke ten -miles away! We’ll grab a cold supper tonight, -and tomorrow when you’re here with them, don’t -take any chances, or you’ll end up in the jug! -There must be some stuff in that bundle that we -can eat.”</p> -<p>He sank down on a stool and lit another cigarette, -while the half-breed rummaged in the -Lenape provision-sack and discovered some cans -of fruit and vegetables, which he opened with the -blade of an ax. The two prisoners, too tired to -care what befell, sank to the floor and lay there -half-asleep, until the Indian roused them roughly -and shoved food at them, untying their chilled -hands so that they might eat.</p> -<p>Hungrily, they wolfed down the unappetizing -fare. Cold corn from a can, dry bread, and still -dryer prunes do not constitute an ideal repast -for famished boys, but they made the best of -what was given them. Brick, indeed, was so -strengthened by the meal, poor as it was, that his -Irish fighting spirit came back to him. Chewing -a crust, he lifted his head and directed a fierce -glance at their enemies.</p> -<p>“You’ll go to jail for life for doin’ this!” he -challenged.</p> -<p>The man wiped his mouth leisurely, rose, and -strode over to the hapless lads.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_194">194</div> -<p>“Still full of pep, eh? Well, Redhead, it won’t -take us long to put that out of you! Young Mr. -Millionaire Van Horn here will be all right if -Papa comes across tomorrow, but you ain’t worth -a nickel to me, and don’t forget it!” His cold -blue eyes widened. “Say, what’s that thing -stickin’ out of your shirt?”</p> -<p>Brick drew back, fumbling at his breast, where -the honor of Lenape, in the shape of a rumpled -bit of green-and-white bunting, had been carried -throughout the journey.</p> -<p>“It’s—nothin’, just a flag,” he muttered, trying -to stuff it out of sight.</p> -<p>His tormentor laughed jeeringly. “Just a -flag, eh?” With a sudden movement, he tore it -from the boy’s grasp. After a slighting glance, -he crumpled it in his fist, strode to the door, and -tossed the Lenape pennant into the mud outside -the step.</p> -<p>He whirled to meet Brick’s leap. Dirk sprang -to help, but was disdainfully pushed aside by the -silent half-breed. When next he looked, Brick -lay sprawled out on the floor, with an ugly red -blotch on his forehead and helpless rage crackling -in his eyes.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_195">195</div> -<p>The man’s doubled fist threatened further -punishment. Then, with another empty laugh, -he turned on his heel.</p> -<p>“Go to sleep, you brats,” he flung out over -his shoulder. “Toss them some blankets, Mink. -I’ve got to get some rest if I’m hoofing over to -Yanceyville in the morning.”</p> -<p>The blanket-rolls of the two trailers had been -taken from their canoe along with the larger -pack; and these were now thrown over them as -they crouched in one corner of the hut. The -walls and crude floor-boards let in draughts of -chill, damp night air, and they hunched together -dumbly for warmth and companionship. With -the moaning of the wind through the trees above -their heads as a doleful lullaby, they sank into -the despairing slumber of the captive.</p> -<p>After a century of nightmares in that dark, -noisome hole, Dirk stirred his cramped limbs and -opened his eyes to find a ray of daylight slanting -through the single window. His enemy stood -with one hand on the latch of the door, giving -parting orders to his servile guide. The man’s -pasty face showed the effects of an existence that -was not natural to him, whose haunts were those -of the city. His serge suit was stained and -creased, while his cheek bore a clotted scratch -where he had scraped it against the projecting -limb of a tree during the dark passage of the -previous night.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_196">196</div> -<p>“And remember,” he was snarling, “that you -ain’t to let those brats out of your sight for a -minute! They’re slippery little imps, especially -that red-headed one. If all goes well and the -old man comes across with the money, I’ll be back -with your share by night.”</p> -<p>“You not try to fool me, eh? You pay me -what you said?”</p> -<p>“Sure, Mink. We’re partners on this—split -the dough fifty-fifty. I’ll telegraph old Van -Horn from Yanceyville, and if he’s got any -sense, he’ll send the cash by wire right away. -It’s a cinch.”</p> -<p>He passed out into the sunlight, scratched a -match, and began puffing the eternal cigarette. -As he disappeared, the Indian shrugged and set -about putting together a breakfast as cold and -cheerless as the meal of the previous night.</p> -<p>Miserably the boys roused themselves to face -another day of imprisonment, in the tumbledown -cabin of the half-breed, who handed food to them -silently and whose watchful, savage glare made -them break off each time they attempted to speak -to one another. In fact, so closely did he watch -their least move that Dirk, after an hour, gave -up all hope of finding any avenue of escape from -beneath the half-breed’s eye.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_197">197</div> -<p>More than two hours had passed, Dirk judged, -since the departure of their nameless foe, who -was evidently now well on his way to Yanceyville -on his nefarious errand of attempting to -extort a large sum of money from Dirk’s father -as a ransom. What would happen? Even if the -money were paid promptly, would this man free -them at once, or would he attempt some further -villainy to prevent them from putting the law -on his track as soon as they had won to civilization?</p> -<p>Mink, who had been sitting on his stool with -his back against the door, passing the time by -whittling idly at a stick of firewood, sat up suspiciously. -His nose was in the air, sniffing like -a hound that has lost the scent. He rose with -a clatter and paced, still sniffing, to the dead fireplace. -After a few seconds, he shrugged and -returned, apparently satisfied, to his post.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_198">198</div> -<p>Dirk went back to his gloomy thoughts, which -were now turned toward his companions, who had -set out so blithely with him on the Long Trail. -Were they even now mourning his death and -Brick’s, as victims of a canoe accident? He recalled -his clumsiness the first time the <i>Sachem</i> -was launched—no doubt they thought him still a -lubber who would upset his craft and drag his -friend with him to the watery depths. But Mr. -Carrigan was wise; and though their captors -were cunning, they had left several clues that -might be read. For instance, the provision-sack -had been tightly lashed within the canoe; Sagamore -Wise-Tongue would think it strange that -it had worked loose when the canoe overturned. -They had left no tracks, except a trampled spot -in the bushes on Flint Island, but perhaps, perhaps -the Lenape men had not given up hope. -Their stock of food was gone, but they would -find some way to exist, even in the wilderness——</p> -<p>He woke from his reverie. Mink had again -jumped to his feet, nose in air. Dirk sniffed too. -Something stronger than the heavy odor of the -cabin was sifting through the chinks in the logs. -It smelled like the lodge at Lenape, in the -evening with the whole tribe gathered around the -fireplace——</p> -<p>With a wild cry, the Indian threw open the -door, leaped across the threshold, and slammed it -behind his retreating form. A frozen instant of -hushed wonder—the smell became undeniable—a -smell of charring timber——</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_199">199</div> -<p>Dirk dashed for the window, but Brick was -before him. Together, the boys stared through -the dirty pane. The forest showed them no -danger signals, but from over their heads came -the thuds of a scrambling body and the low hiss -of flames in dry shingle-boards.</p> -<p>Brick turned to his friend, his freckled face -aglow with renewed hope.</p> -<p>“This cabin must be afire, Dirk!” he muttered, -trying to keep down the exultation in his -heart. “Gollies, listen to that! The roof must -be blazin’ like sixty!”</p> -<p>It was true; rising above the beats of his heart, -the listening Dirk could hear the crackling of -hungry flames.</p> -<p>“Our chance!” Brick’s eyes were dancing. -“Come on! Old Mink sure will be busy for a -minute, and he won’t think about us. Now’s -our chance to make a getaway!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_200">200</div> -<h2 id="c17"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER XVII</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">THE FLIGHT INTO THE HILLS</span></h2> -<p>The two captives were out the door of the -burning cabin in an instant, and broke wildly -for cover in the thickets beyond the clearing.</p> -<p>Dirk, as he fled, cast a desperate glance over -his shoulder. Mink, their half-breed guard, had -climbed somehow to the roof of his shanty, and -with his khaki shirt, which he had torn off in -haste, was striving to beat out the licking flames -that fed on the dry, rotten shakes. His back was -toward them, and he was so immersed in his -furious task that he took no notice of their flight.</p> -<p>With Brick at his side, running stealthily and -gasping for breath, he found himself beneath the -shadow of a clump of pines. Pausing now to -look about and get some feeling of the direction -of the lake where their friends must be, he was -startled by having his comrade seize his arm and -shake it roughly.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_201">201</div> -<p>“Gollies, how could I forget?” the red-headed -lad panted. “I left the flag back there at the -hut—the other guy chucked it in the mud last -night!”</p> -<p>“We can’t stop!” urged Dirk. “That Indian -will get us——”</p> -<p>“No! Sagamore Carrigan give it to me to -keep safe—it’s the honor of Lenape, he said! I -got to get it! Say, Van, these birds don’t want -me. It’s you they’re after—you keep runnin’, -and maybe I’ll catch up with you!”</p> -<p>He was off before Dirk could speak further, -racing back the way they had come, perhaps into -the very arms of the enraged Mink. Dirk, however, -had no intention of deserting his friend. -He could see nothing in the direction of the hut -save a thin column of greasy-looking smoke -through the trees. He threw himself on the -needle-carpeted earth, his chest heaving with -exertion and excitement. If Brick came back -this way, with the Indian after him, perhaps he -could divert his attention, lead him a chase -through the underbrush——</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_202">202</div> -<p>A squawking flight of large birds, crows and -bluejays among them, swooped over his head. -He rose on his elbow to mark their noisy passage. -Not five yards off, the low scrub-oak bushes -rustled and parted, revealing a rusty-coated, -sharp-nosed animal with a brushy tail. It was a -fox. Dirk did not move; the fox saw him, but -cast only an incurious eye on him, and trotted -off swiftly as if on urgent business at a far place.</p> -<p>Dirk jumped to his feet. A curl of smoke -crept across the slanting bars of sunlight that fell -to the floor of the glade. A distant murmur like -a rising wind came to him, and his mouth went -dry with fear. Why wasn’t Brick back? What -was happening there through the screening -forest?</p> -<p>He took a step forward, as if to run to his -comrade’s assistance. As he did so, he caught -sight of Brick on the other side of the glade, -waved, and ran to his side. The Irish lad’s face -was pale, but he clutched in one hand the bedraggled -banner he had risked recapture to save.</p> -<p>Dirk took his arm. “Are you all right, old -fellow? Where is Mink?”</p> -<p>“I—I fell down once, and he saw me, but he -couldn’t get down from the roof. Say, some of -the bushes and trees are on fire—I could hear -’em sizzle. Let’s get out of here!”</p> -<p>“Which way is the lake, do you know?”</p> -<p>“We can’t stop to think about that—we’ve -got to run! Soon as he puts out the fire, that -Indian is goin’ to start trackin’ us down—they -can follow like a bloodhound!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_203">203</div> -<p>“He won’t put it out soon. Look there!” -Dirk pointed into the tree tops. The crackling -roar had grown louder now, and as they looked, -a leaping rope of flame bridged the gap between -two trees nearly overhead. A smoking twig -whirled to the ground beside them, starting a -slow spark in the dry pine-needles.</p> -<p>“We can’t tell which way to go—but I think -the fire is between us and the lake! We must -get away!”</p> -<p>He began to pull Brick forward, following the -direction taken by the fleeing fox.</p> -<p>“Say, thanks for waitin’ for me,” gasped -Brick. “But you better——”</p> -<p>“Save your wind!” Dirk fought his way -through a scratching barrier of brush. The -horror of a hissing wall of flames at their backs -put wings on his heels.</p> -<p>They labored in silence up a steep hillside, -crossed a rocky ridge, and scrambled down into -a blasted ravine on the other side. Dirk was -aware that his friend was muttering shakily.</p> -<p>“I got to stop a minute! You can’t hear the -fire now—get my wind——”</p> -<p>Both spoke softly, as if even now some enemy, -concealed near them, might overhear.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_204">204</div> -<p>“All right,” Dirk replied, watching Brick sink -down upon a moss-covered ledge of rock. “But -that Indian will be following us as soon as he -can, if he knows we’ve gone this way. Maybe -we should go in another direction.”</p> -<p>A few moments passed in silence.</p> -<p>“I wish I knew where the lake was,” said Dirk -finally.</p> -<p>“Well, this creek here probably runs down -into it.”</p> -<p>“That’s true—but as near as I can see, this is -the same one that goes right by the cabin. We’d -only run right back into Mink’s arms. Guess -we’ve got to make for the hills. Then if one of -us climbs a tree, we can get our bearings.”</p> -<p>Brick sighed heavily, and Dirk stared at him. -Their adventures had put them both in sad case. -Garments were stained and torn, bareheaded and -grimed with dirt were they, looking like two -scarecrows. Dirk wondered why Brick was so -laggard in the flight. It was not like him to -drag behind. The boy’s freckles stood out -against his white face, and his lip was trembling.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_205">205</div> -<p>“Know what I think?” asked Dirk. “I’ll bet -that man with the gun was the person that -started the fire. Of course he didn’t do it on -purpose, but he was always smoking cigarettes -and throwing them away without putting them -out first. This morning, when he went away, he -was smoking. A spark probably caught somewhere -and set fire to the shack—it’s a regular old -tinderbox. Well, shall we start again?”</p> -<p>“I’m game,” answered Brick; but he took his -time getting to his feet.</p> -<p>They began the second stage of their flight by -crossing the creek, where they paused for a hasty -draught of water, and then attacked the long -steady slope on the far side, toiling upward -through a dense growth of evergreens. It seemed -as if they would never get clear of the towering -trunks and branches that seemed to push down -upon their shoulders, smothering them and impeding -their way. When at last they attained -the height, Dirk was reluctantly forced to abandon -his plan to climb a tree and thus get a view -of the surrounding country. The lower branches -were still so far above his head that it would be -impossible for the most agile boy to get a foothold -on the smooth trunks.</p> -<p>He turned to Brick. “Say, old lad, perhaps -if you give me a boost——” He broke off, seeing -the pain in his friend’s drawn face. The -eyes were shifting feverishly above the hollow -cheeks, and the boy was biting his lip to keep -back a moan of anguish. “Why, Brick, are you -hurt? Why didn’t you tell me?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_206">206</div> -<p>Brick swayed, and had Dirk not run to his side -to support his body, would have collapsed to the -ground. “I’m—all right,” he gasped out. “You -go on—get to the top of the darned mountain—the -honor of the camp——”</p> -<p>“What’s the trouble? Are you sick?”</p> -<p>“Fell down that time—the Indian was lookin’—kind -of knocked my ankle over a rock——” -He fell backward in his comrade’s arms, and -Dirk realized that he had fainted.</p> -<p>That was Brick Ryan, all right—floundering -along gamely without a word, although his ankle -must have made him want to scream out at every -step! Then a realization of the seriousness of -the situation came over Dirk, and he began tearing -at the loose collar at his injured friend’s -throat.</p> -<p>Fortunately, he had not spent his time at -Camp Lenape without picking up some bits of -knowledge of first-aid. “When anyone faints, -never try to move him—give him lots of air—lean -him forward so the blood rushes to his -head——” Muttering these half-remembered -instructions, he bent the limp body forward and -began rubbing Brick’s dangling wrists and forearms. -He wished they had brought some water, -but there had been no way to carry it——</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_207">207</div> -<p>Brick moaned weakly, and his eyelids fluttered. -“What—what happened, huh? Is it -Van? Whillikers, to think that F. X. A. Ryan -passed out like a baby——”</p> -<p>“Don’t talk,” his friend ordered. “Just rest -a minute. We’re safe for a while now. When -you feel better I’ll go get you a drink.”</p> -<p>The injured boy fell back, his chest heaving -irregularly. Dirk stripped off his sweater and -folding it into the form of a pillow, placed it -under Brick’s head, slightly downhill. His next -care was to examine the ankle that had been -struck when the boy had escaped, for a second -time, from the half-breed’s clearing.</p> -<p>The ankle was swollen badly—no doubt about -that. Dirk, feeling glad that their captors had -not searched him, found his pocket-knife and -carefully slashed away the strings of Brick’s -shoe; he then tenderly removed it, although not -without causing a slight groan from its owner. -The stocking was also pulled off, exposing the -wounded area.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_208">208</div> -<p>The ankle looked puffy and discolored, but as -near as Dirk could tell, it was not broken or even -seriously sprained. But none the less, it was -almost a catastrophe for a pair of fugitives in -their plight. Without food of any kind, their -ponchos and blankets left behind them when they -fled from the hut, and with a savage pursuer no -doubt already on their track, they must travel -far and fast. Now, one of them was crippled, in -pain.</p> -<p>“Brick,” said the boy urgently, “do you think -you’ll be all right if I carry you a ways? We’ve -got to get to water, and I think there’s a brook -at the bottom of this hill somewhere. If you’re -sure you won’t faint again——”</p> -<p>Brick clenched his teeth. “Go ahead,” he -answered bravely. “Gee, I hate to think that -I’m holdin’ up the party this way. Maybe if -you left me, you might find somebody who would -come back and get me.”</p> -<p>“Nonsense! Whatever happens, I won’t leave -you, old lad. It won’t be much of a job if I take -you with the fireman’s lift.”</p> -<p>Brick grunted as he was hoisted upon his -friend’s right shoulder, his body hanging downward -from the waist; but he made no outcry as -Dirk bore him in this fashion down the hill. In -fact, he was so silent that Dirk feared he had -fainted for a second time; but since his head hung -low, he was in no danger. The truth was that he -was gritting his teeth to keep from moaning -when the injured ankle swung slightly in their -progress.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_209">209</div> -<p>Dirk, for his part, made haste to reach the -brook, for he bore no light burden. But a vision -of what might happen were he to injure his own -legs among the treacherous roots and rocks of -the hillside made him step warily. If both of -them lay hurt in the wilderness, with none knowing -their plight or whereabouts, they would -eventually starve, if they did not sooner die of -exposure.</p> -<p>At long last, the burbling of water over stones -was heard close at hand, and Dirk eased his burden -to the ground. The rains of yesterday had -swollen the little watercourse, and a fairly deep -pool, overhung with brambles and scrub-oak, -glistened beside them.</p> -<p>Dirk wiped the sweat from his face, and took -a deep breath. His first care was to bring his -companion a drink of water in his cupped hands, -and to wash away the sticky grime that clung to -Brick’s pale cheeks and forehead.</p> -<p>“That’s swell!” sighed Brick. “Now, if my -foot was tied up good and tight, maybe I could -hobble on a ways further.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_210">210</div> -<p>“I’m taking no chances,” answered Dirk -grimly. “That hoof of yours looks bad. Here, -move to the bank, right over this place, and -dangle it in the cold water. Best thing to take -down the swelling.”</p> -<p>Brick Ryan obediently did as he was told. The -shock of the chill water on his ankle set his teeth -chattering, for all the moist heat of the forest; -but soon the injured part became numb, and the -throbbing ache nearly stopped.</p> -<p>Almost an hour passed. During this time -Dirk had not been idle. He had found a straight, -tough sapling of ash with a fork at the top, and -with his knife had shaped the ends to the semblance -of a rude crutch.</p> -<p>“Mighty warm today,” he remarked to the -watching Brick, as he pulled off his khaki shirt -over his head. “Won’t need this.” He proceeded -to tear the shirt into strips. The narrowest -of these he laid aside, and bound the rest -over the forked head of the improvised crutch, -making a smooth padding.</p> -<p>“Now, let’s have a look at the ankle again.”</p> -<p>Brick summoned up a tired grin. “It’s much -better, Doc. You couldn’t look after me any -better if you had a beautiful nurse to help you. -Say, what do you keep lookin’ over your shoulder -all the time for?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_211">211</div> -<p>“Am I doing that? Humph! Guess I’m still -scared old Mink will pop his head out at us. I -sure don’t want to get kidnaped again with that -ugly lot, do you?”</p> -<p>While he was speaking, he had deftly wound -the strips torn from his shirt tightly about the -bruised ankle. The cold-water treatment had -reduced the swelling almost completely, but the -skin showed an ugly black and blue patch.</p> -<p>“Yell out if I hurt too much,” he ordered; -“but the tighter I tie it, the better it will be.” -He rose, and helping Brick to his feet, offered -him the crutch he had made. “Now see if you -can get around.”</p> -<p>Brick gingerly took a few steps. “Gollies, -this is a swell crutch, all right! I’m good for a -hundred-mile hike right now. But where do we -head for?”</p> -<p>For a moment Dirk made no answer. Then -something snapped inside him, and he cried out -bitterly.</p> -<p>“I don’t know! Where are we? Where is -the Lenape gang? We’ve got to find food and -shelter before night, and already it’s getting -late! Oh, I don’t know where to go, Brick—but -we’ve got to go now, or we’re done!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_212">212</div> -<h2 id="c18"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER XVIII</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">THE END OF THE TRAIL</span></h2> -<p>Dirk’s momentary outburst passed as soon -as it had come, leaving him heartily ashamed -of his despair. He should not be the one to lose -hope; now, if ever, he must show the manhood -that was in him.</p> -<p>He clapped Brick Ryan on the back, and tried -to summon a smile. “There, old man, it’s all -right. This whole mess is really my fault—I -was dumb enough to let myself get kidnaped in -the first place. If you think that crutch of yours -will work, take a good drink and let’s hike.”</p> -<p>Brick set off eagerly, stumping across the -creek and manfully following Dirk’s leadership -through the forest, trying not to drag his tightly-bound -foot or to knock it against the stumps and -boulders that littered the earth. Dirk kept looking -backward to see how his friend was progressing, -stopping now and again to lend an arm in -crossing some marshy bog or climbing a steep -bank. He tried to keep his bearings and follow -a straight line that eventually would bring them -out upon high ground from which he hoped to -spy the lake, the only landmark that either of -them knew.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_213">213</div> -<p>He forced Brick to stop frequently, for otherwise -the red-haired lad would have gamely -plodded on until he dropped. During one of the -pauses, Brick asked: “Say, since it looks like -we’re lost for certain, what about buildin’ a -smoky signal fire? Maybe if the gang is around, -they’ll see it and come to help.”</p> -<p>“I thought of that. But we don’t know that -they are still around. Don’t forget they think -we’re drowned. And we do know that Mink will -be looking for us. A smoke signal would give -us away—he’d get us before anybody else could -find where we were.”</p> -<p>On, on they went at the maddeningly slow -pace that made their journey seem like a dream, -one of those nightmares in which the sleeper is -pursued by unknown terror, but must stagger -onward like a man walking under water. The -sun dropped lower and lower above the endless -tree tops.</p> -<p>Brick sank down, and threw his crutch away -from him with a groan.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_214">214</div> -<p>“It’s no use!” he panted. “I can’t go on, -Van. My foot’s achin’ like it was stung by a -million bumblebees. If I had somethin’ to eat, -maybe I could get a little further, but gollies, -this hike is too much for me. You go on,” he -pleaded, “wherever you can go, and leave me—leave -me——No half-breed in any old canoe -will ever turn me over and shoot me in the -leg——” His crazy jargon trailed off into a -feverish moan.</p> -<p>It was painfully clear to Dirk that his friend’s -strength was completely gone, and that he was -already on the fringes of delirium. The shadows -were lengthening on the mountainside where -they lay; during the last hour they had been -climbing steadily. Soon it would be dark.</p> -<p>The boy looked about him helplessly. Was -this the end? The end of that long trail the -two comrades had followed together, through -capture and fire and flight and injury——He -stood on a rocky shoulder of mountain in trackless -wilds, with his hurt friend huddled at his -feet. If he had a part of the skill of Sagamore -Carrigan, he might, even with only his jack-knife -to help him, rig up some sort of shelter -against the coming cold night, might find some -wild food or trap a small beast. But he could -lean on no other person now; he was alone with -his helpless charge. A keen wind swept up from -the valleys below. It was Dirk Van Horn’s -dark hour.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_215">215</div> -<p>As he stared out over the gently waving tree -tops, he could see only endless ridges of hills, one -beyond another, above which the red torch of the -sun blazed like a burning ship. They must have -circled around too far, until now they were on -the other side of the slopes that guarded Lake -Moosehorn. He turned his face upward, where -the summit of the mountain showed against the -sky. As he looked, a pale spark came into being -against the dimming sky. It was a star. No! -Could it be——</p> -<p>He cried out, and shook Brick’s shoulder in a -sudden frenzy. “It’s not a star!” he screamed. -“It’s—it’s a light! A light up there, Brick!”</p> -<p>“Never get back,” moaned the injured boy -drearily. “It’s a long way from Lenape we -are——”</p> -<p>“Wake up, Brick! I tell you, I see something -up there. It looks like a tower of some -kind. Brick, we’ve got to get there now!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_216">216</div> -<p>But Brick Ryan was beyond caring. He did -not even stir as he was lifted in the arms of a -haggard, wild-eyed lad whose heart burned with -new hope. Saving his breath, Dirk made no -further effort to speak. The body of his comrade -hung in his arms, a leaden weight, as he -stumbled forward, his muscles crying out in -weariness, his teeth clenched in a last despairing -endeavor.</p> -<p>A few hundred yards up the slope his feet -touched a worn path, along which was strung on -tree-trunks a line of black wire, leading upward. -It was a telephone line. Somebody was up there, -somebody who could give them food, and fire, -and a place to lie in peace and safety!</p> -<p>“Cheer up, F. X. A. Ryan, my son!” Dirk -murmured. “You’re safe now, old lad! Up we -go!”</p> -<p class="tb">In the deck-house of the fire tower at Lookout, -young Ugly Brown was staring through the -gathering twilight, scanning the slopes below -through a pair of field glasses lent to him by the -young warden who stood at his side. He was -startled to hear a ringing cry from below, among -the trees bordering the trail. He could not make -out the words, but the tone was desperate. He -was out through the trap-door in an instant, and -was half-climbing, half-sliding down the iron -ladder that hung from the steel cross-pieces of -the tower.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_217">217</div> -<p>“Hey, go slow there, youngster!” the warden -shouted down after him. “You’ll break your -monkey neck!”</p> -<p>Ugly did not answer. He had a feeling that -he knew the voice that had uttered the cry that -had come floating up to him through the dusk.</p> -<p>He leaped the last few feet at the bottom, and -raced down the trail. From the dimness of the -woods, a strange pair staggered toward him—one -ragged, stumbling ghost bearing another, a limp -form in his arms, marching onward with the high -valor that will not admit defeat.</p> -<p>“It’s Van Horn!” Ugly shouted joyfully. -“Say, what’s the matter with Brick? We -thought you guys were drowned, but Sagamore -Carrigan wasn’t sure, and all the bunch has been -huntin’ for you all day——” He broke off -sharply, and rushed forward to support the -tottering figures.</p> -<p>The young fire warden, who had only delayed -in his tower to snatch a hot thermos bottle and -a pair of blankets, came to his assistance, and -together they knelt over the two exhausted wanderers -where they had slipped to the ground.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_218">218</div> -<p>Dirk felt himself lifted up. The steaming -aroma of hot coffee was under his nose, and a -strange voice was ordering him to drink. The -hot fluid burned his tongue, but sent new life -coursing through his veins.</p> -<p>He pushed away the mouth of the bottle, and -sat up. “I’m all right,” he croaked. “Look -after Brick. His ankle’s hurt pretty bad, and -it got worse because we had to hike.”</p> -<p>“He’ll be all right,” came an answer. “The -fire warden will fix him up pretty quick. Do -you know me, Van? It’s Ugly Brown. Gee, -this has sure been an exciting trip! I bet none -of the other gangs that went on the Long Trail -ever had as much fun as we’re havin’!”</p> -<p>“It may have been fun to you, Ugly, but -Brick and I have had a tough time of it. Last -night and today—I don’t want to think about -it! Every minute we thought that half-breed -Indian, Mink, was going to jump out on us and -take us back to be held for ransom.”</p> -<p>The fire warden, who had been working over -Brick and making him as comfortable as possible -on a blanket, looked up from his task.</p> -<p>“I was sure that’s who it was, when the hut -caught fire this morning,” he put in. “That is -one bad Indian—or maybe I should say was. -There’s a pretty good chance that he may not be -in the land of the living tonight.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_219">219</div> -<p>Dirk sat up suddenly. “You mean—he was—killed?”</p> -<p>The man shrugged his shoulders. “That was -a pretty bad blaze they had down there at his -shack. It would have been worse, only thank -goodness the woods were damp after the rain; -otherwise our outfit would have had a nice crown -fire to fight today. Collins was patrolling down -by the lake, and had to call a general alarm. By -the time he got there, the whole clearing was -burned over, and all that was left of the trapper’s -cabin was a heap of cinders. The men are still -on guard down there—several acres were burned -over.”</p> -<p>“And Mink—what happened to him?”</p> -<p>“Nobody knows. If he wasn’t burned to -death, you can bet he’s cleared out of this country -for good. You’ll never be bothered with him -again.”</p> -<p>Dirk laughed feebly. “And to think that all -day we were running away from a danger that -didn’t exist! We thought he was trailing us.”</p> -<p>The warden looked at him curiously. “You -must be pretty done in.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_220">220</div> -<p>“We got lost, and couldn’t find our way back -to the lake.” The boy looked about him. “Where -is this place, anyway, and how is it that you’re -here, Ugly?”</p> -<p>“This is the Lookout, where the fire tower is,” -explained the other boy, alive with excitement. -“If you get up on top of the hill here, you can -see for a million miles all over these mountains. -The lake is right below. You must have come -around from the other side. Mr. Carrigan -looked at the canoe we found turned over. When -he saw that all the stuff was gone, he said he -thought somebody had captured you. Then he -found where the bushes were tramped down, -over on Flint Island. We couldn’t do much last -night in the dark, but he got the chief warden to -give us some grub and a tent. Then, since early -this morning, all of us have been scoutin’ around -these woods, lookin’ for signs of you. They -ought to be comin’ in pretty soon. Boy, won’t -they be mad when I tell ’em I was the one to see -you first!”</p> -<p>“We must tell my father,” said Dirk. “Can -anybody get word?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_221">221</div> -<p>“Don’t worry,” answered the warden. “Soon -as I get back up the tower, I’ll telephone to -Yanceyville, and they can wire from there. -He’ll be glad to hear. There was a chance that -you two might have been caught in the fire. -Ever since Riccio was caught, we’ve had orders -to hunt for you.”</p> -<p>“Who’s Riccio?”</p> -<p>“Why, that’s the name of the man that kidnaped -you! You see, he turned up at the telegraph -office in Yanceyville this morning and -sent a funny message to your father. The telegraph -man was suspicious, and as soon as he left, -he put the sheriff on his trail. It turned out that -this Riccio had a police record, and a bad one, -too. He was arrested, and finally admitted that -he’d caught you and that Indian Mink had you -in his shack. He must have been a fool to try -and get ransom money by telegraph. Well, -perhaps a fat jail term will teach him a lesson.”</p> -<p>“Then—then——” Dirk was bewildered. It -seemed as if all their troubles were ended. The -half-breed dead or flown, his master in jail, and -soon the Lenape trailers would again be united. -“Then everything’s all right, and tomorrow we -can go on to the top of Mount Kinnecut——” -He stopped, for Ugly Brown could not conceal -his amusement, and was laughing loudly.</p> -<p>“Say, Van, how do you get that way? You’re -right on the top of Mount Kinnecut at this very -minute!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_222">222</div> -<p>At the words. Brick Ryan stirred among his -blankets and tried to sit up. “Mount Kinnecut?” -he mumbled. “Gollies, that’s the place -we got to find. Dirk will help me get there, -won’t you, Dirk, my boy? Dirk’s the best guy -that ever hit the trail, and I’ll lick the bird that -says he’s not!”</p> -<p>Dirk Van Horn leaned over and patted his -friend’s arm. “There, take it easy, Brick! -We’re there, old chap—we’re right on the top of -old Kinnecut, and you can go to sleep now.”</p> -<p>“Can’t go to sleep! Got to do somethin’—can’t -climb, though, because I got a bum leg. -You’ll do it, though, won’t you, Dirk?” He -fumbled at his breast.</p> -<p>“Do what?” the fire warden asked gently. -“What must he do? Listen, you come along -with me now, and you’ll soon be stowed away in -bed.”</p> -<p>“No, I won’t. Dirk’s got to do it first! And -it’s right he should, too. He’s the best of all of -us. I wanted to quit, but he fought along, game -as a bull-pup, and carried me. I won’t move -till I see him do it!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_223">223</div> -<p>“I think I know what he means,” said Dirk -gently. “Shall I? I guess he won’t rest easy -until it’s done.” He reached out and took the -crumpled bit of cloth that Brick was clutching. -“Ugly, where is the tree that has all the Lenape -trailers’ flags nailed to it?”</p> -<p>“Why, it’s right up the trail about a hundred -yards. A big old dead pine—you can’t miss it. -I’ll go with you.”</p> -<p>“No, you stay here with Brick. I won’t be -long.”</p> -<p>Brick fell back, watching Dirk’s face. “It’s -the honor of Lenape, Dirk!” he whispered. -“You brought us through. There’s a couple -nails in my pocket. Good luck to you, pal!”</p> -<p>Dirk clasped the outstretched hand, and ran -up the trail alone. There was the tall pine. A -few wooden cleats were fastened on the lower -part of the trunk, leading up to the thick -branches. As he swung himself upward, all his -weariness fell away from him like a cast-off garment -of care. Up, up he climbed, until he was -among the smooth limbs of the pine. Upward, -above the tree tops that swept down before his -eyes to the sunset-dyed waters of Lake Moosehorn, -that lay in a curving sweep far below, with -the red spark of a campfire on its banks to mark -the rallying place of the Lenape clan. Still he -climbed. Now he was at the very top of the -world; in all directions stretched the unbroken -wilderness that he and his comrades had conquered. -And now his hand touched the lowermost -of a string of tattered pennons that were -nailed to the peak of this mighty tree that others -of the Lenape brotherhood had scaled before -him, in years gone.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_224">224</div> -<p>Dirk Van Horn smiled to himself, and waved -a hand at his watching partner far below. Then, -still smiling, he drew a stone from his pocket, -and with a few resounding blows, nailed a bit of -green and white bunting in its place. A finger -of light, the last ray of the dying sun, tipped the -little banner with gold, as the honor of Lenape -fluttered bravely in the evening breeze.</p> -<p class="tbcenter"><span class="small">THE END</span></p> -<h2>Transcriber’s Notes</h2> -<ul> -<li>Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public domain in the country of publication.</li> -<li>Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and dialect unchanged.</li> -<li>In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.)</li> -</ul> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Camp Lenape on the Long Trail, by -Carl Saxon and Arthur Grove Day - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAMP LENAPE ON THE LONG TRAIL *** - -***** This file should be named 54630-h.htm or 54630-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/6/3/54630/ - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Camp Lenape on the Long Trail - -Author: Carl Saxon - Arthur Grove Day - -Release Date: April 29, 2017 [EBook #54630] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAMP LENAPE ON THE LONG TRAIL *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - CAMP LENAPE ON THE LONG TRAIL - - - CARL SAXON - _Author of "Blackie Thorne at Camp Lenape" and "The Mystery at Camp - Lenape"_ - - [Illustration: Decoration] - - BOOKS, INC. - NEW YORK BOSTON - - COPYRIGHT 1940, 1935 BY BOOKS, INC. - MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - - - - - CONTENTS - - - I. A Feud Begins 7 - II. "Brick Ryan's Not for Sale!" 17 - III. "Help!" 29 - IV. Dirk Jumps 40 - V. The Sinking of the _Sachem_ 54 - VI. Fight! Fight! 66 - VII. The Red Hand Revengers 78 - VIII. Shenanigans for Brick 91 - IX. Dirk Hears of the Long Trail 103 - X. Off for Camp Shawnee 116 - XI. The Captain 127 - XII. The Mysterious Watcher 138 - XIII. On the March 151 - XIV. The Watcher Again 164 - XV. The Trap on Flint Island 175 - XVI. Fire in the Forest 187 - XVII. The Flight into the Hills 200 - XVIII. The End of the Trail 212 - - - - - CAMP LENAPE ON THE LONG TRAIL - - - - - CHAPTER I - A FEUD BEGINS - - -Brick Ryan was bending over a washtub out behind the Lenape lodge when -the big, shiny automobile roared up the road into camp. - -Brick paused in the act of wringing out his best and only flannel shirt, -straightened, took one look at the glittering limousine, and whistled. - -"Whew! Will you look at the golden chariot!" he exclaimed to himself. -"Brick, my boy, can it be that a young millionaire is comin' to Camp -Lenape?" - -He bent his flaming mop of copper-colored hair over the tub once more, -but kept a watchful blue eye on the big car, which had now drawn up -beside the kitchen wood-pile. - -From the wheel of the limousine stepped down a man smartly garbed in the -uniform of a chauffeur. He swiftly threw open the silver-trimmed rear -door, saluted, and offered his arm as the first of the occupants of the -car descended. This person was a lady, somewhat stout, with a worried -look on her face. Brick saw the flash of many diamonds glitter on her -hands as she turned and spoke to those still remaining within the -shadowy interior. - -"Dirk, dearest, here we are! Gracious, what a rough and dusty road it -has been! This camp must be in a perfect wilderness! John, you must come -with me right away to see the camp director. I simply must explain to -him about Dirk's diet, and I do hope he will see to it that Dirk wears -his rubbers and heavy underwear when it rains!" - -Her husband, an older man with hair gray about the temples, nodded -reassuringly as he joined her. "There, there," he said soothingly, "it -will be all right, I'm sure. The director knows his job; he's quite -accustomed to looking after all the boys." - -"But you know Dirk has always been so delicate! I declare, I wish we had -sent him to Wild Rose Camp again this year--the nurse there was so -sympathetic. But you would insist that he be brought to this outlandish -place, even when you knew that none of the boys of our social set would -think of coming to such an ordinary sort of camp!" - -"I know, Marcia," the man replied. "But Dirk is growing up now. I want -him to mix with a regular gang of fellows his own age, and do all the -things they do. Maybe at first it will seem a bit like roughing it, but -he'll soon get used to it and be into everything with the best of them. -Isn't that right, old man?" - -"Yes, Papa," a bored young voice answered from the depths of the back -seat. - -"That's splendid, dear," the mother said. "I know you will be a brave -lad. Now, your father and I are going to speak to the director about -your diet. Benson will help you with your luggage, and you can find out -which house you are going to sleep in." - -"They sleep in tents here, Mama." - -"Tents! You see, John, what sort of place you have chosen! And you know -how easily Dirk catches cold! The idea of having the boys sleep in -drafty tents! I really must speak to the director at once!" She picked -her way delicately down the hill toward the front of the lodge, followed -by her apologetic husband. - -"Gollies!" Brick Ryan muttered to himself, and watched for further -developments. - -They were not long in coming. The chauffeur went around to the heaped -luggage-rack of the car, and began unloading its bulky contents. Several -shiny suitcases landed on the ground, followed by a leather hat-box, a -bag of golf-clubs, two tennis racquets, a gun-case, fishing rods, and -finally a large wardrobe trunk, which the man handled with difficulty. -Shouldering the latter, the man also disappeared down the hill. Brick -scratched his head, stared at the pile of baggage that still remained, -and hung a patched pair of khaki pants on the line to dry in the fresh -morning air. - -He wheeled about as the same drawling voice he had heard from within the -car came to his ears. - -"I say, would you mind lending a hand with this luggage?" - -Brick looked at the speaker with open mouth. He saw a tall, -pleasant-looking boy of about his own age, with brown eyes and yellow -hair, spick and span in white flannels and straw hat. Brick was so -startled by the fact that the stranger wore a stiff white collar and -necktie that at first he did not comprehend what the boy had said. - -"Huh?" - -"I said," the newcomer repeated carefully, "that I would like you to -help me with all this luggage of mine. That is, if it won't interfere -with your laundering work." - -Brick slowly drained the soapy water from the tub, and considered this -request. Then he took a second look at the strange lad. - -"You're not a cripple, are you?" he asked solicitously. - -"I beg your pardon?" - -"What's the matter with you grabbin' some of those bags and hikin' down -with 'em yourself?" - -"You don't understand," the other said patiently. "Of course I shall -carry my rod and racquets, but I don't care to lug these heavy bags -about myself. Just take them down to my tent like a good chap. I'll pay -you, naturally." - -Brick's Irish temper, never far from the surface, blew up. - -"Say, Mr. Dirk Astorbilt, or whatever your name is, you've got me all -wrong! Where did you get the idea that Camp Lenape fellows were a bunch -of Pullman porters, standin' around waitin' to carry bags for a ten-cent -tip? Just because I happen to be washin' out my duds so I wouldn't look -like a hobo, you must think I'm a bellhop or somethin'. Well, up here, -mister, every man totes his own pack, see?" - -"But---- Do you really mean that you are a fellow-camper, like myself?" -the blond boy asked awkwardly. - -Brick snorted, stuck his hands in his pocket, and stared pugnaciously at -the other. - -"Go climb a tent-rope!" he exclaimed rudely, and swaggered off down the -hill toward the grove of pine trees that shadowed the white canvas -dwellings of the Lenape campers. - -In the shade beside the flagpole, he sat down on a log to cool off. With -a blue bandana handkerchief he mopped his freckled brow and snub nose. A -pine-scented breeze fluttered down the mountainside at his back and -ruffled his unruly red hair. Perhaps he had been a little too hasty in -taking affront at the new boy's request. He sniffed the air, and its -fragrance soon made him forget the unpleasant encounter with the strange -boy in white flannels. For the thousandth time, he gazed over the -spreading campus of Lenape, and peace descended on his fiery soul. - -Before his eyes, under the limpid blue sky of August, between the -mountains and the little lake, lay Camp Lenape, summer home of a hundred -lively boys and the dozen councilors who guided their many outdoor -activities. Over his head, on the long porch of the lodge, he could hear -the uplifted voices of Jake and Jerry Utway; the twins were skylarking -about, followed by the laughter of "Happy Face" Frayne, the genial -assistant director. Beyond, from the kitchen, came a clatter of pans and -a snatch of song as Ellick, the chef, and his dusky minions prepared -lunch. Brick looked down the steep hill to the boat dock, where a -rowboat full of boys with fish-poles was just coming in from a trip to -the south end of Lake Lenape. He yawned sleepily, and stretched. From -the rows of tents to his left someone shouted his name. - -A group of campers trailed through the bushes in the wake of Mr. -Carrigan, the camp naturalist. Among the boys who were thus returning -from a nature-study hike were Blackie Thorne, Soapy Mullins, and Lefty -Reardon, the latter of whom had called out. - -"Hi, Ryan!" Lefty repeated. "Come on down to the tent, you loafer, and -clean up for inspection!" - -"Right away!" Brick answered lazily, but did not stir. He hated to break -the spell of contentment that lay over him. - -Brick Ryan loved Camp Lenape. It meant everything to him, the camp life, -and for three summers now he had whooped with delight when the time came -to leave the hot city streets behind and make for the Lenape hills for -two months of busy, carefree sport in the green out-of-doors. Here, -among his camper friends and the wise leaders like the Chief and Happy -Face and Lieutenant Eames and Mr. Carrigan, he could do to his heart's -content the things he loved--swim and fish and get up shows and take -long hikes through the mountains---- And this year, for the first time, -he would be allowed to go on the Long Trail---- - -The blare of Ted Fellowes' bugle, sounding Recall, broke forth over his -head. He rose, stretched, and sauntered down to Tent One, his new -quarters for the next two-week period. Every fortnight during the season -was moving day for Lenape; then some of the boys who could not stay the -entire summer would leave, and other boys would come up from the city to -take their places. At this time, too, the tent assignments were shifted -about so that each camper could get to know, and live as tent-mates -with, a wide variety of other boys. Brick, who had that morning been -given a bunk in the tent nearest the lodge, presided over by "Sax" -McNulty, the comical leader who directed camp dramatics, wondered idly -what sort of gang his new tent-mates would turn out to be. - -As he entered the tent, Lefty Reardon looked up as he was spreading his -blankets neatly over his canvas bunk. - -"Well, it's about time you were on the job," he grinned. "What you been -doing, Brick? Picking daisies? How about doing a little fancy work with -a broom?" - -"All right, Mr. Tent Aide," Brick answered good-humoredly, and set about -making his own bed. "What have you guys been doin' all mornin'--lookin' -for filly-loo birds up in the tall timber?" - -"Mr. Carrigan showed us some partridge. That's better than loafin' in -the sun. Say, have any of the pups hit camp yet?" - -This was Lefty's belittling way of referring to new boys, tenderfeet who -were that day coming to camp for the first time. Brick groaned. - -"Don't remind me--I'd almost forgot about it! Gollies, I was just -exchangin' sweet words with one of the juiciest specimens that you've -ever seen! Mr. Chauncy Montmorency, the Dude from Swellville! Such a -pretty boy, too!" - -Lefty grunted. "What's he like?" - -"You'd have to see it to believe it. Mama and Papa and the shover all -come along in the family limmyzine to see that little Algy gets here -without getting his tootsies wet! 'And I sye, me good feller,'" he -mimicked, "'would you be kind enough to carry me bags down to the -_ho_-tel?'" - -Lefty's jaw gaped. "Gee, he sure must be a green one!" - -"Wait till you see him! He's the Millionaire Baby, and no mistake! I -pity the poor guys that get in his tent----" Brick Ryan broke off -suddenly as a shadow fell over his shoulder. He looked up, and gasped. - -At the door of the tent stood a blond young fellow in white flannels. A -few paces away a chauffeur in uniform stood respectfully, laden with -shiny suitcases and sporting goods. - -"Oh, there you are again," the lad said breezily. "Sorry to trouble you, -but is this Tent One? If it is, I believe I shall have the pleasure of -sharing it with you chaps. My name is Dirk Van Horn, and the camp -director has assigned me to stay here. I hope that we shall all be very -happy and friendly tent-mates!" - - - - - CHAPTER II - "BRICK RYAN'S NOT FOR SALE!" - - -Brick was too aghast to think of anything to say. He scowled, threw up -his hands helplessly, and deliberately turned his back on the smiling -Van Horn. - -But Lefty, whatever he might think about "pups" in private, had been -appointed councilor's aide for Tent One, and as such was camper-leader -in charge when Sax McNulty was not in sight. He rose and extended a hand -to the newcomer. - -"Glad to meet you, Van. My name's Reardon. I see you've got a baseball -glove there among your things. We need good fielders on the camp -team--some stiff games are coming up. We'll talk about it later. Yes, -this is Tent One. I hear you've met Brick Ryan, over here," he said -easily. "The rest of the bunch will be along pretty quick, except for -some of the new boys that are hitting camp today." - -"Thanks. We passed a hay-wagon full of young chaps down the road a few -miles," answered Van Horn. "They seemed to be having lunch." - -"They'll be along later, I guess. Hope we get some good ones for Tent -One. Sax McNulty went down to show them the way. He's our leader--you -ought to hear him shake out a tune from that saxophone of his! Then, -outside of you and Brick and myself, we've got little Joey Fellowes and -Slim Yerkes---- But dump your stuff down here on the floor, and after -lunch I'll show you where to stow things." - -Benson, the chauffeur, gladly stacked his load of baggage inside the -tent, and returned for the remainder. His young master spread his legs -apart and looked over the tent with a patronizing air. - -"Nice little place you've got here, but it could be fixed up better. -I've got some pennants and a few pictures in my trunk that we can stick -around to make it look quite homelike, I fancy." - -Lefty smiled grimly. "We mostly do our decorating up at the lodge, where -there's plenty of room. With seven fellows and a leader in a tent this -size, we have to save space for the things we use every day. You seem to -have a lot of junk there--enough to take up a whole tent yourself. After -lunch we'll weed out what you need and the rest can be stored under the -lodge." - -"I don't know about that. A chap wants to be comfortable, doesn't he? -Oh, I guess there are my folks coming to say good-bye! Hello, Mama!" - -Brick scornfully watched the approach of the fond parents. The lady, -after embracing her boy, looked disdainfully about the tent and its -simple furnishings. She did not sniff, but she looked as if she might at -any moment. - -"Gracious, John, do you really think we should leave Dirk here? I'm glad -we thought to bring up his spring cot and mattress--the idea of having a -growing boy sleep on plain canvas stretchers like these!" - -"The other boys don't seem to have suffered," Mr. Van Horn smiled -feebly. - -"This is Reardon, Papa," his son said. "Plays baseball, you know." - -"Fine! Fine! Well, young men, Benson is bringing down a big watermelon -for Dirk's tent-mates. Guess you won't mind a cool slice later on? Now, -Dirk, your mother and I are going. We'll have lunch in Elmville. If you -want anything, write or wire me and we'll see what the old man can do. -That canoe ought to be along in the morning." - -"Thank you, Papa." Dirk turned to Lefty. "Back in a minute, old chap." -He waved a hand and accompanied his parents up the hill toward the -waiting automobile, where no doubt a fond farewell was to take place. - -As soon as they were out of sight, Brick faced his friend. - -"What a fine sister we drew!" he exclaimed. "Well, what do you think of -the Millionaire Baby now?" - -Lefty returned to his task of tidying up the tent beside his bunk. "Aw, -lay off, Brick. It isn't his fault he's a poor little rich boy. He seems -to me like a pretty decent sort, and that watermelon will come in mighty -handy, too. Just because he took you for a kitchen mechanic, you've got -it in for him. Snap out of it! There goes First Call, and here's the -tent still in a gosh-awful mess. Stir yourself!" - -Brick Ryan bent moodily to the work. After a moment, he snorted as his -eye fell once more on the shiny heap of luggage and sport outfits, and -his scorn broke forth anew. - -"Just the same, Lefty my son, Little Lord Fauntleroy will need a bit of -polishin' before he's a true-blue Lenape man, and F. X. A. Ryan is the -lad to give it to him," he muttered darkly. "Mark my words, young -Chauncy is in for a lot of fine adventures he never dreamed of back in -dear old Swellville!" - -During lunch, Brick listened with ill-concealed disgust while young Van -Horn chatted with Lefty about baseball and prep school and asked the -usual list of silly questions that a new camper always puts. When the -meal was over, Brick and silent Slim Yerkes washed the dishes in short -order, and then retired to the tent for quiet hour. Slim soon left to -visit a friend in a neighboring tent, and Brick stretched out on his -bunk with a copy of the life-saving manual, to study up for the various -tests that were a part of the badge requirements. But no sooner had he -settled himself than Dirk Van Horn, followed by the admiring little Joey -Fellowes, came down from the camp store. - -"What a silly rule they have here, that a fellow can't spend more than -fifteen cents a day at the store!" Dirk was complaining, munching a -chocolate bar. "Up at Wild Rose Camp last year we could spend as much as -we wanted, and they had everything--ice-cream cones every day. Why, I -could buy out this little store if I wanted to! Here, youngster, have a -bag of almonds." - -"Thanks," said Joey admiringly. "Say, what kind of a place was that Wild -Rose Camp?" - -"Very select. I believe it cost me five hundred dollars a season, not -counting extras, such as piano lessons, archery, and so on." - -Brick Ryan said "Humph!" in a loud tone, but Joey was visibly impressed. - -"Well, youngster," Dirk went on, "shall we get busy unloading all these -traps of mine?" - -"Sure. Say, if you could go to such a swell place as that, how come -you're here at Lenape?" - -"Oh, just a notion of Papa's. You see, he used to go to college with the -camp director here. I made Papa buy me a canoe all my own if I promised -to come here, but I tell you, if I don't like this place, I shan't stay -very long." Dirk turned airily and stooped to open the large wardrobe -trunk that stood amidst his heap of luggage. "Shall we get to work?" - -Brick Ryan, whose sole possessions had come to Lenape with him in a -canvas dunnage-bag, pretended to read, but he kept one eye on the -proceedings. Languidly Dirk, aided by the awed Joey, began to unpack his -multitude of belongings. First he unrolled a thick mattress--the only -mattress in camp aside from those in the hospital tent--and spread it on -the lower bunk nearest the lodge. Brick felt called upon to interfere. - -"Say," he began, "that bunk belongs to Sax McNulty, our leader. All the -other lower bunks are already taken. You'll have to take one of the -uppers." - -"I beg your pardon?" - -Joey broke in hastily. "Say, Van, I got a lower, but I don't mind -sleeping up in Heaven--I'm used to it. You can have mine, over here, and -I'll take the upper." - -Dirk nodded. "Thanks. Very sporting of you, youngster." He spread the -mattress on the bunk that Joey had relinquished, and with an -inexperienced hand spread sheets and fine woolen blankets in the -semblance of a bed. - -Next he began unpacking the trunk and suitcases, and Brick Ryan's snorts -grew louder and louder as the stack of the newcomer's possessions grew -higher. In a short time the tent was strewn with clothing and objects of -all sorts. The leader's empty bunk was piled high with suits of every -kind and shade, among them a trim blue yachting outfit with white cap, -and a khaki uniform with Sam Browne belt and white helmet such as -African explorers wear. One suitcase was almost completely taken up with -books and a portable typewriter. Between reading the books and dressing -up in the dozen different suits, Brick reflected, the new boy would have -very little time to do any camping. - -But this was not all. It seemed as if Dirk must have gone into a big -sporting-goods store and ordered at least one of everything in stock. He -had complete outfits for baseball, basketball, and track. Joey was set -to work stringing up an aerial for a portable radio receiving set that -was carefully packed in a leather case. The interior of the tent was -submerged beneath such objects as a big electric lantern, a fisherman's -creel, two swimming suits, a sketching outfit, golf clubs, hats and -shoes of all sorts, and a black bag such as is carried by doctors on -their rounds. Dirk opened the latter, and took from its well-filled -interior a bottle of pills. - -"That reminds me!" he said. "Forgot to take my prescription." He -swallowed two pills, made a face, and picking up an armload of shoes and -a banjo case, approached Brick. - -"Excuse me, old fellow," he said agreeably, "but would you mind awfully -if I parked these things under your bed? These tents don't seem to have -any closets in them, and that clothes-line from the tent-poles doesn't -look very strong." - -"Can't do it," Brick answered shortly. - -"Why not? You don't seem to have a great deal of junk yourself." - -Brick groaned. "Listen!" he said with some heat. "Lefty Reardon told you -he'd show you where to put your stuff. He's up at aide's meeting now, -and since Sax is still away, I don't mind tellin' you what the rules -are. We got eight people in this tent. Suppose every single one of them -had as much stuff as you've got?" - -"But I can see they haven't, so----" - -"Wait! We have inspection here every day, to see which tent wins the -pennant. Everything has got to be in its place, and there's a place for -everything. Beds made in a certain way, clothes folded in a certain way, -shoes in a line under the bunk, everything polished up and swept out. Do -you figure on cleanin' up all that stuff every day, or are you goin' to -hire Joey as a valet?" - -"My dear chap, I merely----" - -"My advice to you," Brick went on, "is to pick out from that mess just -what you need every day, and store the rest in the lodge. Then we might -have some room to move around. Do you get that?" - -A crimson flush mounted from beneath Dirk's immaculate white collar and -spread over his pale features, but he said nothing. He dropped the -things on the floor in a heap, and sat down on a locker-box, watching -Joey sort out a collection of stockings and handkerchiefs. Brick -pointedly returned to his life-saving manual. - -For the first time since he had arrived at Lenape a few hours before, -Dirk Van Horn paused to think. He could not see that he had done -anything to merit such a harsh tone as that used by the red-headed Irish -boy. Of course there was that awkward mistake when Ryan had been washing -his things back of the kitchen; but that might have happened to anyone. -Dirk had never before met a boy of the independent stripe of Brick Ryan. -There had been no boys like him at "select" Wild Rose Camp, nor in what -his mother called their "social set" back in the city. But Dirk wanted -everybody to like him. He wanted Brick to like him and admire him. He -went about it in the only way he knew--but it was the wrong way. - -Brick was aware of a tap on his shoulder. He turned; before him stood -the despised Van Horn in his citified garments. There was a smile on his -face. His right hand was outstretched frankly; his left hand held a -tennis racquet of the most expensive make. - -"Look here, Ryan, old chap," Dirk began. "We have to live together. -Let's be friends! What say? I know I was a chump a while ago, but I -apologize, and I hope we'll get along splendidly. Now, just to show you -I think a lot of you, I hope you'll accept this little present. It's -just a trifle, and I have two of them--but perhaps it will prove how -much I want to be your friend." - -Before the amazed Brick knew what was happening, the other had pressed -the handle of the racquet into his hand, and clapped him on the -shoulder. - -"That's the spirit! Now we're fast friends, you know!" - -Brick stared at the gift. Fashioned of finest wood and gut, it -represented at the least an amount that Brick would have had to work on -his paper-route, back in the city, for a month to earn. Unbelievingly he -looked from the gift to the giver. A sudden tide of red anger flooded -his freckled face to the roots of his red hair. He jumped up, flung off -the outstretched hand, and faced Van Horn. There was an ugly look on his -face, and ugly words rose to his Irish tongue. - -"Friends, is it!" he shouted. "Gollies, you and your little presents! -Pup, get this! You or the likes of you can't buy Brick Ryan's little -finger, and you can't bribe him, either! You and all your pretty junk -may go over big with kids like Joey that don't know any better, but -Brick Ryan's not for sale!" - -Dirk's mouth fell open, and he backed off hastily. "Why--Why, I'm -sorry--I didn't think you'd take it that way! Of course, if you don't -care to accept it----" - -"Yah!" cried the Irish boy. With sudden fury he flung the offending -tennis racquet in a wide curve. It fell out of sight into a clump of -bushes some yards away; and Brick Ryan, with clenched fists, turned on -his heel and stalked from the tent. - - - - - CHAPTER III - "HELP!" - - -Dirk Van Horn wondered if he were going to like Camp Lenape. There -seemed to be far too many uncomfortable rules that got in the way when a -fellow wanted to have some fun. Then, too, outside of little Joey -Fellowes, nobody had seemed duly impressed with his father's wealth and -his luxurious camping outfit. It was clear that this was going to be -quite different from Wild Rose Camp, where everyone knew that he was J. -T. Van Horn's only son, and where he and his tutor had shared a cosy -cottage with every convenience that money could buy. - -Dirk sighed; then turned suddenly as a new idea struck him. He'd show -these kids what a real sportsman could do! - -"Joey, old son," he said, "would you mind clearing up the rest of this -stuff? I'm going to take a look around the woods and see what the -chances are for a bit of sport." - -"What you going to do, Van?" - -"Oh, just a bit of gunning. That chap Reardon mentioned at lunch that he -had scared up some partridge on the mountain this morning. I thought I -might get a shot at a few." - -Joey Fellowes stood aghast at such daring. "Whe--you mean, shoot them? -Say, nobody at Lenape ever does that! We just go out and watch birds and -animals and things, and try to study them and take pictures of them. -Nobody in camp is supposed to have a gun!" - -"Humph! What do they come up here in the woods for? Well, here's one -person who isn't going to overlook a chance if he happens to see one!" - -"But--but---- Why, Sax McNulty or any of the rest of the councilors -would sure bawl you out if they found you with a gun! It's against the -camp rules!" - -"Bother the old rules! Good heavens, McNulty may change his mind pretty -quick if I present him with a nice bag of partridge ready for Tent One -to eat for supper." With deliberate casualness, Dirk slung his gun-case -over his shoulder, unearthed from a suitcase a large box of chocolate -cake as provisions, and paused at the door of the tent. "Come along if -you like, Fellowes." - -"No--no thanks," blurted Joey. "You better report to the Chief before -you go." - -"I won't be long," said Dirk carelessly. "Well, then, ta-ta! If you've -got most of my things stowed away by the time I come back, I'll slip you -a dollar or two." - -With these generous words, Dirk waved an easy farewell, and strode off -through the trees, taking care to make a wide circle about the lodge, -where some fussy councilor might see him and keep him from his purpose. -His plan was simple. He wanted to make Brick Ryan and the rest of the -campers realize what a fine fellow was now in their midst. If he could -casually stroll into the tent with a dozen partridge in one hand and his -shiny new rifle in the other, they would see at a glance that here was a -comrade to be reckoned with! He conjured up pleasant pictures of their -surprise and admiration, himself the center of the group. - -Still lost in these happy visions, he crossed a sunny meadow and picked -his way over the dusty, rutted country road that led to camp. Here he -plunged into thick woods, making straight up the mountainside. It was -cool in the leafy forest, and he would have been very well contented -save that a swarm of gnats hovered over his hatless head in a buzzing -cloud, following wherever he went. His coat was too warm, but he did not -want to carry it as his hands were already full, and he wished to be -free in case he located the desired covey of partridge. - -Ahead lay a flat, marshy stretch of ground, where clumps of grass and -rotting tree-limbs formed a half-submerged, muddy mass. There was no -path going around, and Dirk, balancing his burdens dangerously, jumped -from one solid-looking tuft to another. More than once he slipped on the -rotting stuff, and floundered ankle-deep in slimy water. Long before he -reached the other side, he regretted that he had not changed his city -flannels for togs more suited to mountain work. His low sport shoes were -caked with ooze and half full of water; his erstwhile spotless white -flannels were muddied, streaked with green scum, and a triangular tear -on one leg showed where he had come up against a sharp branch. - -Ruefully he sank to a seat on a decayed oak-trunk and unloosened his -wilted linen collar. He would have liked a drink, but he knew that the -stagnant pools at his feet were unhealthy, and he settled back, -inspected his glistening rifle to see that the magazine was full of .22 -caliber cartridges, and then slowly began munching the cake he had -brought with him. - -He had barely eaten half of it, however, when he leaped hastily from his -seat with a cry. One arm was afire, beneath the sleeve, with a thousand -prickling stings! A simmering stream of large black ants that infested -the rotting wood--no doubt attracted by the chance of refreshment in the -shape of sweet crumbs of cake--was flowing over his hand and arm, and -even beneath the collar of his shirt. In a painful frenzy he dropped the -cake and began brushing off the stinging insects, stripping off his coat -and shirt. It was several minutes before he could fight free of the -crawling horde, and then, grabbing his things, he rushed off up the -hillside away from the treacherous lower ground. Even then, he was -reminded now and again of his misadventure by a red-hot sting in some -part of his tender skin beneath his clothing. - -So far, his expedition had not been successful. He had not seen any sign -of a partridge or any other small game. Even had there been any of the -birds in that part of the mountain, his stumbling progress would -undoubtedly have given them warning long before he could train his rifle -on them. But he kept on up the slope, smashing his way through the thick -underbrush and trying not to turn his ankles on the rocky ground -underfoot. - -To his right he saw through the leaves a long scar of gray rock -outcropping on the hillside. This promised easier going than the tangled -underbrush. Besides, he thought, if he could get high enough, he might -be able to look around and see in just which direction lay the camp. His -flight from the marsh had twisted him around somehow, and a glance at -the sky gave him the feeling that the sun was not where it should -rightly be at this time in the afternoon. He altered his course and -began scaling the sloping, moss-encrusted rocks. - -Before he was half-way up the rocks, he began to wish he had not chosen -such a steep and rough road. His shoes and trousers were in pitiful -shape. Still he scrambled upward in the hot sunshine, dripping -perspiration, ascending on hands and knees and trailing his rifle after -him. He was glad to see that the rocks ended a few feet above his head -in an overhanging bank of earth and matted shrubs. Over the top! He -charged the little cliff, seized with his free hand the roots of a -sapling oak that grew on the edge, and tried to haul himself up. His -first heave loosened the soil; he could feel his hold slipping. He cast -a fearful eye backwards; if he fell on those sharp rocks----! - -A shower of dirt, twigs, and small pebbles rattled down upon his head; -with a rending noise, the roots he was gripping parted. Clawing the air -helplessly, Dirk fell backwards, and slid painfully a few feet down the -smooth rocks. His rifle flew from his hand, described a short circle in -the air, and landed with a bruising crash upon his outstretched right -leg. - -Dirk cried out, and rubbed his shin. The sharp blow brought tears of -pain into his eyes, and he gritted his teeth. He realized now that it -had been a foolish thing to trust his weight to such a sketchy -hand-hold. Well, he had suffered for his error! - -He clutched the rifle, whose wooden stock was badly scarred by the fall, -and began crawling across the rocks to the shelter of the brush. Every -movement heightened the ache in his leg, which was now throbbing -brutally. When he gained the wooded hillside, he rose and tried to walk; -but after a few steps he gave up, sat down, and began rubbing his -shinbone once more. - -Dirk was not used to giving up an idea easily, and he hated to think of -limping back to camp with torn clothes, and lacking the game he had set -out so proudly to get. Here would be a very different return from that -he had visualized! But now he began looking about him and puzzling just -in which direction lay Camp Lenape. - -The sound of a bugle call floating up from the lake came to his ears, -and faintly he could hear shouting, off to his right, where the woods -were thickest. He could not be exactly sure where it came from, but -evidently camp was not far away. Of course, he could back-track on his -own trail, but that would mean going through the marsh again. There must -be a short cut that he could take. He rose and began hobbling through -the trees, hoping to find a stream where he could quench his hot thirst. -As he went he thought of his mother and father, by this time far on the -way back to the city. Dirk Van Horn was just a little homesick. - -Again came the bugle-call. But this time it sounded from behind him! He -wheeled about, listening. Where was camp? He could see nothing through -the trees. Perhaps if he could climb high enough, he might catch a -glimpse of the flagpole or the tents; but his leg was now swollen and -stiff, and useless for climbing. Where was he, anyway? Could it be that -he was lost among the mountains? Lost! Dirk began to run unsteadily -through the thick brush. His eyes were wild, and the little hammers of -panic were beating in his brain. - - -Brick Ryan was slipping into his swimming suit in Tent One when Sax -McNulty, followed by a racing pack of boys, appeared at the lower end of -the campus. The new recruits had hit camp just in time for afternoon -swim period. - -"Hi, Sax!" the red-headed boy greeted his leader. "You look hot. Just in -time for a dip." - -The long-faced young man gave him a mournful look. Sax always looked -gloomy, even when he was saying his funniest things. - -"I'm a little sunbeam," he announced. "I can keep smiling even after -piloting twenty little greenhorns up from Elmville. Dusty but smiling. -Say, who made my bed so nicely?" - -"Me and Lefty." - -"Good lads." Sax sank on his bunk and began stripping off his dust-laden -garments. "I met two of the new fellows who'll be with us this section. -Nig Jackson was one--you remember him from last year. Another is a new -kid, Eddie Scolter, who claims he can play a clarinet. But one fellow -didn't come after all, I guess. The Chief said his name was Van Horn." - -"Oh!" grinned Brick, "you mean the Millionaire Baby! Well, don't worry -about him. He got here this mornin', and has been around all day, big as -life and twice as natural." - -"Millionaire Baby?" - -Brick pointed to the scattered array of suitcases, clothes, and other -possessions that Joey Fellowes had given up trying to sort out and -arrange. Sax McNulty whistled as he looked at Dirk's heaped outfit. - -"This all belong to Van Horn?" - -"Junk enough for ten guys. Wait till you get a look at him." - -Sax shook his head. "Can't have that. Where is he, anyway? He'll have to -stow that stuff before Nig and Eddie and the rest get here." - -"Search me," Brick shrugged. "Haven't seen him since siesta. He's -probably off tellin' the little kids what a rich guy his dad is, and how -Wild Rose Camp is much sweller than this joint." - -The leader pulled on his swimming suit, and looked up thoughtfully. -"Don't tell me he's the son of Van Horn, the bank president! Don't tell -me that!" - -"I'm afraid so." - -"And he's going to be here in Tent One this section. Well, well, and a -couple more wells! You don't seem to have taken to him very kindly, -Brick." - -"He just sort of riled me from the start, I guess." - -"Well, he'll be all right after a couple days here. No quarreling, now! -We must all be like little birdies in the nest, Brick---- Hark!" - -Brick Ryan had heard it too. From the mountainside had come a despairing -cry. - -"Help!" - -He jumped to his feet, and the two, leader and boy, stared solemnly into -each other's faces. Then McNulty grabbed for a pair of rubber-soled -tennis shoes, and began furiously lacing them on his bare feet. - -"Come along, Brick!" He dived for the door of the tent and up the wooded -hillside, his red-headed follower close on his heels. "Somebody in -trouble on the mountain! We've got to run, old boy--and I mean run!" - - - - - CHAPTER IV - DIRK JUMPS - - -In the wake of his racing leader, Brick Ryan dashed through the thickets -behind the tent, and crossed the road. Here Sax paused and shouted -toward the mountainside. - -"Hello! What's the matter?" - -Ahead came a faint cry in answer, and a spitting crack. Something buzzed -through the leaves of a maple overhead, and a detached twig drifted -down. - -"That was a gun!" said Brick in amazement. "Somebody shootin' through -the trees." - -Sax was angry. "The fool!" he cried. "Is he trying to pick us off?" He -raised his voice and shouted again to the unknown. "Cut out that -shooting! We're coming right along!" - -Again he plunged into the woods. Brick, who had been rubbing his -uncovered arms and legs where his swimming suit had not protected him -from scratches and whipping branches, panted at his side. "Over this way -it came from, Sax," he said. "Not very far off, either." - -McNulty saved his wind for running, and his long legs bounded out of -sight. In short order, Brick heard the man's voice upraised in stinging -rebuke. - -"Put that gun down! Here, give it to me, before you kill a few of us! -Now, What do you mean by this----" - -Brick came to the edge of a little glade, and saw the leader standing -threateningly above a youth who crouched on the sward, guiltily handing -over his weapon. His body was covered with a stained blue coat and the -wreckage of a pair of white flannel trousers; his yellow hair was -rumpled; and on his pale face there was a look of mingled relief and -dismay. - -"Begolly," said Brick to himself, "it's the Baby!" - -Sax McNulty seized the rifle and poured out the contents of the magazine -into his hand. "What are you trying to do?" he asked. "What do you mean -by shooting around Camp Lenape? Who are you, anyway?" - -Brick came up, and grinned at his councilor, indicating the prostrate -figure on the ground. "It's the guy I was tellin' you about, Sax," he -sneered. "Young Moneybags. What else could you expect?" - -"My--my name is Van Horn," the other boy stammered. "I'm a camper." - -"A camper? You?" McNulty was scornful. "Well, you must be in the wrong -camp. At Lenape we don't go around firing rifles all over the place." - -Dirk Van Horn swallowed, and began clambering to his feet. "I--I got -lost," he began. "I read somewhere that three shots was a signal for -help. They didn't sound very loud, so I shouted, too. I imagined that -someone might hear me and direct me back to the camp ground. You see, -sir, I hurt my leg----" - -"Badly?" - -"No--I can walk on it now. But then I got a trifle frightened, I -suppose, and things got mixed up somehow." - -Brick broke into a rasping laugh. "Lost, is it! He gets lost a few -hundred yards from camp, and yells for help! You got a job ahead of you, -Sax. He don't need a councilor--it's a nurse-maid he needs!" - -"That's enough, Brick," the man said shortly. "Now, Van Horn, if you can -walk all right, we'll go back to the tent. I understand you've been -assigned to my outfit. Well, first off, if you've got any more guns, -they're going to be locked up with this one. We can't have bullets -flying about. Come along--I'll show you where camp is. After swim, we'll -see about clearing up that mess of stuff you left on the floor." - -He led the way back toward the campus, bearing the forbidden weapon, -followed by the crestfallen Dirk. Brick Ryan began cautiously picking a -path through the underbrush--a swimming suit was not the best uniform -for mountain rescue-work. He chuckled. "Lost, he was! And Sax and I -thought we were goin' to pull somebody out of trouble!" - -The bushes ahead crackled as somebody ran through, and Brick paused. The -face of his friend Kipper Dabney appeared from behind a tree. - -"What's all the shootin', Brick?" - -Brick answered the question with a laugh. "You may think you've seen -greenhorns at Lenape, Kipper," he said, "but I want to tell you we've -got the juiciest tenderfoot in Tent One that you ever saw. He's a lily, -he is! There he goes--Sax McNulty just grabbed his gun in time to keep -him from shootin' us for a couple of moose." - -Kipper was interested. "You sound as if you figured on doing something -about it." - -"Maybe I will," smiled Brick wickedly. "Out of the goodness of my heart, -I might show him a few handy tricks. He sure needs a workout!" He -lowered his voice. "About twelve o'clock tonight, eh? What about it, my -boy? Are you game?" - -"You mean--pass him the runaround?" the other asked doubtfully. "He -looks like a pretty husky fellow. He might go for us." - -"Not a chance! But if you're nervous, we'll get Ugly Brown to come too. -This baby is easy. Is it a go? Swell! Now let's get down to the -dock--that guy and his fool stunts have made me miss half my swim!" - - -Dirk Van Horn did not fall asleep until some while after taps had -sounded bedtime for the Lenape campers, and their big bonfire had died -down to embers. He had gone through one of the liveliest days he had -ever known, but although weary, he was too wakeful to join his -tent-mates in their slumbers. He lay stretched on his bunk, staring up -at the dim, quiet stars glowing above the sighing branches of the pines, -and recalling the events of the crowded day. - -Around him, snug in their blankets, slept his new tent-mates. It was a -strange feeling. Last night he had gone to bed in his familiar room back -home in the city, with his father and mother close at hand. Tonight he -lay out under canvas, in the forest-clad Lenape hills, listening to the -unknown noises of the night and the deep breathing of his new-found -companions--Mr. McNulty, and Lefty, and Joey, and the other Tent Two -boys he had met at supper. On the line from the ridgepole hung his -brand-new camping togs, and the other things he needed were neatly -stowed beneath the bunk or in his wooden locker, as Lefty had shown him. -Lefty had said that some baseball games were coming---- - -Dirk sighed. Lefty must know all about his ignominious return from his -hunting trip that afternoon. If Lefty thought him a chump, perhaps he -wouldn't put him on the camp team! He could see now that he had made a -fool of himself with his silly rifle, but how was he to know all the -camp rules? And that Brick Ryan chap had snickered at him! Why did Ryan -dislike him so? Thinking of Brick Ryan, the new camper drifted off into -slumber.... - -He opened his eyes. His cheek was tingling. Something had trailed across -his face in the dark! - -Through the trees he saw the yellow sickle of a new moon. He remembered -now. He was at Camp Lenape---- But whose was the voice close to his ear, -whispering cautious words? - -"Shh! Listen, Van Horn, are you awake?" - -He turned his head, and saw the outline of a strange face above him. A -boy whom he did not know had thus quietly aroused him in the dead of -night. - -"Put on your slippers and bathrobe and come on!" the voice urged. "Don't -wake up anybody else. This is just for you." - -"But what--what----" Dirk asked hoarsely. "I don't believe I know you. -What do you want me for?" - -"Hurry up!" the strange boy urged. "It's a party. We want you to be our -guest. Just a little fun after taps, old man. Quick, now!" - -Wonderingly, Dirk obeyed. He found his slippers and robe in the pale -light, while his guide waited motionless. Taking care not to make the -least noise to disturb the sleeping leader and the other boys of Tent -One, Dirk crept softly out into the thin moonlight. His guide took his -arm, and led the way down a path that skirted the upper row of tents, -and then wandered into the mysterious shadow of the forest. A hundred -yards beyond the farthest tent, the unknown boy stopped, and whispered -close to Dirk's ear. - -"We're giving a party for you, Van," he explained. "Very select. Some of -the best blood in camp is waiting to greet you." - -"Why--that's very kind of them." Dirk was flattered. "Where are we -going?" - -The other hesitated. "Well, you see, our meeting-place is supposed to be -kept a secret. Would you mind wearing this for a minute?" - -Before Dirk knew what his guide was about, he felt a large handkerchief -drop over his eyes. He muttered a protest, but already the blindfold was -knotted about his head, and even the dim glow of the night was shut from -his sight. - -"Just hang on to my arm," said the stranger reassuringly. "We're not far -off now. This way." - -He gave Dirk a slight push ahead. Slowly, with arms outstretched, Dirk -felt his way forward along the rough path. He did not quite know what to -make of this midnight game of blind-man's-buff; but he had no reason to -think that the other boy meant him harm. He remembered that at Wild Rose -Camp last summer, it was often the thing to have quiet little "spreads" -after bedtime, without the knowledge of the councilors. Seemingly, -Lenape also enjoyed this adventurous custom; and he took it as a tribute -to himself that he, a newcomer, should have been selected to be honored -on his first night on the campus. - -While he was pondering this he was stumbling ahead over the rough -ground, now and then tripping over a rock or tree-root and leaning -heavily on the arm of the boy at his side. Suddenly, that arm was -withdrawn; he felt a rude thrust into his back; he stepped forward to -catch himself, found his ankles snared in a rope that had been stretched -across his path. He tripped and crashed to the earth, throwing his arms -out with a grunt of pain. He had landed with a smashing thud into a -thicket of scratching branches. - -The shock of the impact had driven his breath out of him; he could not -cry out. He thrashed about upon the rocky ground, trying to tear the -blinding bandage from his eyes. But a sharp knee was now pressing into -the small of his back, and even as he struggled, someone unseen lashed -his hands together with a skillful handcuff knot. - -"Take it easy, Baby!" urged a mocking voice above him, and the knee dug -deeper into his aching back. "How do you like our little party?" - -He knew this voice! Brick Ryan! - -He thrashed about, striving to regain his feet; but the torturing knee -pinned him fast. - -"Don't get worked up," his tormenter advised. "We just want you to do a -few little tricks for us. Lift him up, Kipper!" - -Dirk was jerked roughly to his feet, pinioned on both sides by strong -arms. Behind him rose again the jeering voice of Ryan. - -"Now, don't go wild and hurt yourself. If you're a nice baby, and do -what we tell you, maybe we'll let you off easy--maybe!" - -Dirk choked, and found his voice. "You are a coward, Ryan! A coward and -a bully!" - -"Shut up!" came the savage answer. "Do you want to wake up the whole -camp?" A sharp point of metal prodded the flesh of Dirk's leg. "Feel -that? Any more hot air and you'll get a touch of this! Now, march!" - -Biting his lip to keep back the cry that rose to his tongue, Dirk Van -Horn was dragged through the woods. His blindfold was still knotted -tightly over his eyes, and he was helpless in the hands of his captors. -Soon, he could tell by the' feel of smooth earth under the thin soles of -his slippers that they had come to some sort of clearing. Here his -torturers--he judged that there were three of them--halted. Again Ryan -spoke. - -"Now, you've got so much sportin' goods with you, we thought you must be -a swell athlete. We want to see what you can do on the high jump and the -dash and the obstacle race. That right, boys?" - -"I won't do it," said Dirk stubbornly. "Let me out of this, Ryan. If the -camp director knew you were hazing me----" - -"Shut up! Now, the first event will be the runnin' high jump. When I say -'go!' you take off and show us how to break a record! Don't try to pull -off that blindfold, either, or you'll get another jab with my knife. -Ready?" - -The restraining arms were drawn away, but Dirk stood motionless, -refusing to reply. Sightless, he knew that he could not run, or even -walk, more than a few steps before he would again be brought to the -ground with a crash. Where was he? Far from any help, any sympathetic -leader who could put a stop to the cruel hazing. Was Ryan determined to -push him, helpless, through the motions of a travesty of a track meet, -in disregard of bruises and broken bones? - -"Go!" rasped the voice. "Run! Run, or----" - -Dirk flinched as he felt the sharp knife-point pierce the skin of his -thigh. His terror was rising, but he did not cry out. - -A horrible moment of waiting; then Dirk heard his unseen tormenter laugh -wickedly to himself. - -"He won't play with us, boys! Well, that's his hard luck! Too bad! It's -over the cliff for him!" - -"Over the cliff!" echoed the henchmen hollowly. "We gave him his chance. -Come on, you!" - -Again Dirk was dragged through the forest, more roughly than before. His -captors twisted about so that he had not the least idea in which -direction they were heading, but it seemed as if ages passed before they -halted at last. During the painful journey he had tried to make some -plan for escape; but it was of no use--there were three of them, holding -him closely; he could neither see them nor his surroundings, and his -hands were tightly bound. Was their threat merely a sham, or were they -really now nearing some steep, jagged wall of rock in the forest? - -"Don't move!" warned Ryan suddenly. "We're right on the edge of Indian -Cliff! Now, Baby, we'll give you one more chance. Will you behave and do -your stuff in our moonlight track meet? Or do you want to end up a -hundred feet below, down on those big rocks, with a busted neck?" - -Dirk's head was whirling. He tried to fight free, but the clutch of the -restraining arms tightened, and an ungentle hand made sure his blindfold -was still secure. He cautiously felt out with one slippered foot. A few -inches before him, the grassy earth ended in a crumbling edge. A tingle -of horror rose up the boy's spine. - -"Indian Cliff," Ryan's voice assured him harshly. "That's where they'll -find you in the mornin'. Well, what about it? Yes or no?" - -"You don't dare go through with it!" Dirk cried. "You're trying to -frighten me! Well, I won't be fooled! I don't believe you!" - -"He don't believe us!" jeered Brick. "We'll have to show him. Get ready. -Let him go, my lads!" - -The two henchmen fell back. Dirk turned swiftly; but the point of the -knife caught him in the side, and he recoiled to the treacherous edge of -the embankment. - -"So long, Baby! One jump, and it's all over with you! Well, will you -jump yourself, or will we have to heave you over?" Another prod of the -blade accented his words. - -Dirk swallowed heavily, and tears came into his shrouded eyes. "You'll -be sorry for this, Ryan, you mucker!" he shouted. His teeth were -chattering, and a faint breeze fanned his brow where beads of cold sweat -stood out. "You're a coward----" - -"That's enough!" Ryan's tone was ugly. "Do I have to prod you again, or -will you jump?" - -Dirk took a deep gasp of air, and his muscles tensed. - -"I'll jump," he said, and leaped blindly forward. - - - - - CHAPTER V - THE SINKING OF THE _Sachem_ - - -He still lived! - -Dirk drew himself up on one elbow, choking. His mouth was filled with -powdery dust, and every bone ached. Frenziedly, he thrashed about, and -found he had shaken free of the rope that had bound his hands together. -He reached up and tore off his blindfold. - -In the light of the waning crescent moon, he looked up. A few inches -above his head lay the bank from which he had leaped into the unknown. -Standing there, doubled with silent laughter, were the three figures of -his torturers. Instead of jumping to death from a precipitous cliff, he -had plunged dramatically from a ledge barely a foot high! - -He knew where he was now. To his scattered senses came the knowledge -that he had landed sprawling in the dirt road that led to camp. The -tents could not be far away, although, blindfolded, he had thought that -Ryan and his gang had led him for miles through the woods. He scrambled -painfully to his feet and ran up the road. - -Behind him rose an alarmed, muffled shout from Brick Ryan. "Head him -off, Kipper! He's goin' back to camp! Get him, Ugly!" The shout only -made him run faster. Up the rutted road he sped, flying to -security--anywhere, away from the clutches of those who had so brutally -mistreated him. His pursuers scattered, seeking to head through the -woods and cut him off from the tent. Dirk lost a slipper, but did not -pause. If they got their hands on him again----! - -A shape darted out at him from behind a tree. He dodged, and raced -ahead, gasping for breath. Now he could see the gray sheets of canvas -that marked the tents close beside the dark silhouette of the lodge. -Behind him hammered the running feet of Brick Ryan. He was almost upon -him! - -Dirk stumbled into Tent One, and fell upon the bunk where Sax McNulty -slept the sleep of the weary councilor. - -"Save me! They're after me!" - -The leader started up open-mouthed, blinking his eyes. "What--who----" -he mumbled. "Get off!" - -"Save me, sir! It's Brick Ryan, and he made me jump over a cliff, and -they chased me---- Don't let him get me again!" - -Others in the tent stirred. Slim Yerkes, in the bunk above the -councilor, sat up and silently looked at the sobbing figure beneath him. -Young Eddie Scolter woke and giggled uncomprehendingly at the scene. - -"Why, it's Van Horn!" exclaimed McNulty. "Having a nightmare, old chap? -Wake up!" - -Brick Ryan had halted just outside the tent, and taking advantage of the -commotion, sought to gain his bunk unobserved. He had not intended that -his captive should escape him and return thus to the tent and arouse the -ire of the leader. He began shedding his garments quickly, hoping to be -found peacefully snoring when Sax should waken sufficiently to take -charge. But McNulty caught a glimpse of him just as he was pulling the -blankets over his head, and read the situation in an instant. - -"This some of your work, Brick?" he asked grimly. "There, there, calm -down, Van, old man--why, you're shaking like a leaf! What happened?" - -"They hazed me!" Dirk gulped back the tears. "I'm sorry to make such a -fuss, but it hurt----" - -The councilor snapped on the flashlight he always kept under his pillow, -and examined the haggard boy at his side. "Anything serious the matter -with you? No bones broken, or anything like that?" - -"I--I don't think so, sir. I'm ashamed to act this way," Dirk stammered -bravely, "but you see, there were three of them, and they were pretty -rough----" - -"All right. Now, just get back to bed, and we'll straighten things out -in the morning. We've already roused the whole tent, so don't make any -more noise tonight." McNulty climbed from his bunk, helped the shaking -boy to his own blankets, covered him gently, and looked about the tent -to assure himself that all was well. Then he crossed to where Brick Ryan -lay crouched, listening furtively. - -"You know what the Chief thinks about hazing, Brick," he said sternly. -"You'll start the day tomorrow with two hours on the wood-pile." - -"All right, Sax," the Irish boy answered sullenly. "But I didn't know -the big baby was going to run and tattle! Why didn't he take it like a -man?" - -"That's enough! Now, everybody get to sleep again. We've had enough riot -for one night." - -Dirk stretched out his aching body, and closed his eyes. Through the -dark drifted the vengeful tones of his enemy. - -"All right! But anyway, he's a tattle-tale, and I'll fix him for it--you -see if I don't!" - -The morning period of camp duty found Brick Ryan on the wood-pile, -serving his time chopping sawn logs into stove lengths and vowing -vengeance upon the boy who had brought the punishment on him. He looked -darkly from time to time toward the rear door of the camp kitchen, where -the rest of the Tent One campers were helping to make the ice-cream for -the Sunday dinner. Among them lounged Dirk Van Horn, who now and then -lent a hand at the job of turning the heavy churn in the freezer, or -packed some more salted ice around the revolving container. Brick noted -that his foe was now dressed in garments more suited to a Lenape -camper--basketball shorts and a light, sleeveless shirt. If Van Horn -didn't watch out, Brick mused, he would be laid up with a bad case of -sunburn, for his shoulders were pale and lacked the protective coat of -tan that marked the boys who had already spent a month in the mountain -sunshine. - -"Some people never learn," Brick muttered, viciously splitting a stick -of smooth birchwood. "Runnin' home to mama just because we was havin' a -little fun with him, and squealin' to Sax so he'd make me do wood-pile -duty! Well, all I can say is, my time will come yet!" - -He was interrupted by the noisy clatter of the motor of the camp flivver -which, driven by Mr. Lane, rattled down the road and drew up at the rear -of the lodge. In the back of the small truck, tightly lashed to prevent -jolting, was a long, curved object wrapped securely in burlap. As Brick -watched, Dirk Van Horn gave a shout and ran to the driver, who was just -descending. - -"That's my canoe you have there, isn't it, sir? Listen--doesn't it say -it's for Van Horn? That's me!" - -"Yes, it's for you, I guess," answered Lane; "and the dickens of a time -I had bringing it over these roads up from Elmville. We've got plenty of -canoes here at camp--what any boy wants with one all to himself, I don't -know." - -Dirk was not listening. He ran to the group around the ice-cream -freezer, and summoned them excitedly. - -"Come on, you chaps! I made my father buy me a new canoe because I -promised to come to camp, and here it is! Help me unpack it, and then -we'll try it out. It's a beauty!" - -"Listen!" Lefty Reardon protested. "We're on squad duty--we have to make -this ice-cream, and if we go away now, it won't freeze----" - -His tent-mates paid no attention to his objection. Dirk darted into the -kitchen and returned with a long butcher-knife, with which he began -ripping the seams of the burlap that wrapped the canoe. In a few minutes -the casing was torn away, and the beautiful slim craft, painted a bright -crimson, lay on the ground with its paddles along its bottom. - -Dirk was jumping around excitedly, pointing out the features of the -superb workmanship that made the canoe a delight to the eye. "Look at -her lines, you fellows! See those soft seats. Those duck-boards on the -bottom are to keep your feet dry. I tell you, you have to pay plenty of -money for a boat like this! She's a real Indian canoe, and I gave her a -real Indian name, too. See?" He pointed to the shapely bow, where in -golden letters was blazoned the name _Sachem_. "Now, who wants to help -me try her out?" - -"Yes, let's try her out!" echoed Eddie Scolter. "Come on!" - -"Down to the lake!" shouted Dirk. "Here, Slim, grab hold of that end. -She's light as a feather--we'll have her in the water in no time!" - -Slim Yerkes obediently lifted one end; Eddie, Nig Jackson, and Joey -Fellowes seized the sides, and led by the excited Dirk, the group made -off down the path to the boat dock, bearing the gleaming canoe aloft, -leaving her burlap wrappings to clutter the ground. Lefty, wrestling -alone with the heavy churn of the ice-cream freezer, shouted a last -warning to them, but by this time his truant comrades were out of sight -down the hill, bent on taking part in the first launching of the lovely -little vessel. - -Brick gazed after them disdainfully, impressed in spite of himself. It -was a swell canoe, all right, and no boy could help being proud of it. -Think of hitting the Long Trail in a craft like that! But the fellows -had no right to leave their squad duty and run off to play with Van -Horn's new toy---- - -An amazed shout rose from the back of the kitchen. Sax McNulty, who had -been working up in the ice-house, digging out large blocks of ice and -heaving them down to his young assistants, had finished and returned to -the scene to find that his squad, with the exception of the faithful -Lefty, had disappeared. - -"Hey, what's happened? Where is everybody, Lefty? Have they walked out -on the job?" - -Lefty grunted, struggling with the freezer handle that grew stiffer at -each turn. "Yeah, Sax--I told 'em not to beat it, but Van Horn just got -a canoe, and they all took it down to the lake to christen it." - -"They did, eh? Well, they'll have to learn that they can't run away like -this when their duty is still to be done. Here, let me take a turn at -that, Lefty. When you're rested, you can chop some more ice. Huh! If you -hadn't stuck to the job, the camp would be missing its dessert this -noon, all right!" - -The leader grappled with the freezer. Brick turned to his chopping once -more, and at the sound of his ax, McNulty looked over toward the -wood-pile and saw him. - -"Oh, Brick! I guess you've served your time. Do me a favor, will you?" - -"Sure, Sax. What do you want?" replied Brick, sinking the ax blade into -the chopping block. - -"Chase down to the lake and head off that bunch of runaways. Tell 'em to -come right back and finish what they started, before playing around with -canoes and things." - -Brick needed no urging. He wanted to see what would happen at the lake -shore. By this time, the canoe was no doubt already in the water. He ran -off down the hillside in a bee-line for the dock. Behind the lower row -of tents he sped, across the stone wall, and cut across the edge of the -baseball field to the grove of trees that fringed the rocky lake shore. -Here he almost tumbled over the bent backs of Wally Rawn, director of -water sports and captain of the camp life-saving crew, and the seven -boys who made up his tent-group. Rawn had chosen as his squad duty the -task of repairing the steps that led down the steep bank to the dock; -and Brick had to circle around the busy group to gain the edge of the -lake where the boat dock jutted out from the shore. - -Here, in the shallows of the bathing beach, the _Sachem_ was already -afloat, riding high above the rippling, shadowed waters of Lenape. She -was held at one end by the proud Dirk, while the other boys gazed -admiringly at her daintiness, that made the moored string of -round-bottomed steel rowboats of the camp fleet look like clumsy craft -indeed. - -"Watch me get in her!" Dirk was shouting in a high voice. "Let me paddle -her around a bit, and then maybe I'll take you all for a ride!" - -He drew the light vessel close beside the flooring of the dock, and -balancing the paddles in one hand, started to step into the bow. Brick -clattered on to the end of the pier. - -"Say, you fellows!" he began. "Sax says to come back on the job right -away. He's pretty mad, too--you're not supposed to sneak off squad -duty." - -Dirk turned upon him coldly. "Don't be foolish, Ryan. Can't you see -we're busy christening the _Sachem_? If you don't make a fuss, I'll take -you for a little spin after a while." - -"But----" - -The blond boy was not listening. He was too much interested in making -his maiden trip in the newly-launched crimson canoe. Teetering -precariously, he stepped into the bobbing bow. Before he could clutch -the piles of the dock to hold the craft steady, the _Sachem_ sheered off -and, overburdened by the standing figure at one end, began rocking -dangerously from side to side. Dirk swayed, trying to keep his balance -as a wave slapped the dancing vessel. - -"Sit down!" shouted Nig Jackson. "Look out, she'll turn over!" - -Dirk, alarmed, dropped the paddles overside and grabbed at the gunwale -to keep himself from following them into the shallow waters of the -beach. In sudden panic, he scrambled to a seat; but it was too late. The -_Sachem_ heeled over across the wind; a sheet of water slid easily over -the low side, slapped the light canoe to leeward, and dipped it once -more below the surface. Water filled half the interior, sloshing about -and rocking so that still more water was taken over the gunwale. Dirk -gripped the seat desperately, trying to right the canoe; but his efforts -were now of no avail. - -Slowly, steadily, the _Sachem_ sank to rest on the pebbled shallows -beneath the surface of the lake, and Dirk Van Horn, with a comic look of -amazement on his face, found himself sitting waist-deep in the water -with his lovely possession beneath him, out of sight. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - FIGHT! FIGHT! - - -Brick burst out in a cry of derision. - -"Sunk!" he roared. "You sure scuttled yourself, all right! You don't -know any more about canoes than a baby! The Prince of Whales, that's -what you look like!" The other boys joined in laughing at the joke. - -Dirk still sat helplessly in the sunken canoe, his mouth half open. He -didn't know a boat could act like that. His clothes were drenched. He -had thought he was making a brave show, pushing out boldly in his fine -canoe, and now they were all laughing at him for a lubber. - -He scrambled out somehow, and splashed about in the shallow water, -dragging the water-filled craft to the land beside the rock. A shout was -heard, and a man came galloping down through the trees. It was Wally -Rawn, who had witnessed the performance from the hillside, but who had -arrived too late to stop it. - -"You there, with the canoe!" he hailed. "What's your name?" - -"He's Van Horn, the Prince of Whales!" put in Brick. "Old Sink-Easy, the -boy sailor--that's him!" - -"Well, Van Horn," said Wally, looking down at the sodden, crestfallen -figure, "stop trying to pull off that canoe's bottom by dragging it on -those rocks, and listen to me. I could see in a minute that you don't -know the first thing about a canoe. Where did it come from, anyway?" - -"It's mine," stammered Dirk. "My father gave it to me." - -"H'mm. Well, before you can go out paddling in it, you'll have to learn -how to treat it. And you'll have to learn how to step into it without -sinking the poor thing. In the first place, you ought to know that this -is no time for campers to go boating--when squad-duty period is over, -and you have reported to whoever is in charge here at the dock, you -might be given permission to go out. In the second place, no boy is -allowed to take out a canoe unless he has passed his swimming and boat -tests. You haven't done that, I know." - -"Well, you see, sir, I just wanted to try the canoe and see how it -looked in the water----" - -Wally shook his head impatiently. "Look here, Van Horn--can you swim?" - -"Why, no, sir. That is, only a little----" - -"Whew! This beats me!" The councilor scratched his head, and turned to -the other boys. "Isn't there anybody here who has any sense? Here a new -boy comes down without a leader, and without knowing how to swim, puts a -canoe in the water and sinks it under him! Suppose you had launched it -from the end of the dock, Van Horn, where the deep water is--what would -you have done if you had gone over then? That's the reason we have canoe -tests--so a boy won't go out unless he can take care of himself in the -water, no matter what happens. Now, lift that canoe on the dock, drain -the water out, and leave it to dry. Then get back to your work. When we -have swimming instruction tomorrow morning, come down and I'll try to -show you how to swim. It will be several days before you know enough -even to take out a rowboat; but if you work hard, maybe I can teach you -how to take care of yourself and your canoe. That's all." He turned on -his heel and went back to his work. - -Sheepishly, Dirk obeyed, and with the help of his grinning comrades, -drew the canoe on the dock and tilted it so that it would drain. Then -Dirk once more waded about, rescuing the drifting paddles he had lost. -At last, dripping and downcast, he joined the others. Brick looked at -him with a wry grin. - -"Well, if you're not a sweet sight! It'll be a long while before your -old canoe gets another bath, believe me. She'll be laid up until you -pass your canoe tests--and you can't even swim! The Prince of Whales!" - -"Aw, let him alone, Brick," put in Slim Yerkes. "We should get back and -help with that ice-cream." - -"You can bet you should! Sax is sure mad. Well, if the Prince is ready, -let's go." - -The group straggled up through the trees. Dirk stalked along, saying not -a word; but Brick did not give him a chance to forget his misadventure. -Instead, he kept up a running stream of ridicule that would have -penetrated a skin much thicker than Dirk's. Something of the bully still -remained in Brick Ryan, even though he had spent three summers at -Lenape; and now it came out in his words. Besides, he was still smarting -from the punishment he had been given for his midnight hazing escapade, -and he did not intend to let the despised tattler get off easily. - -They skirted the lower corner of the baseball field, and, crossing the -wall, entered the meadow below the campus. Brick had not stopped jeering -all the while, and now his remarks were growing more and more cutting. - -"Yeah, a baby, that's all you are--a tattle-tale, canoe-sinkin' baby. I -haven't forgotten what happened last night, and I'll fix you for it, -too, Baby." - -For the first time, Dirk replied to the irksome words. He stopped, -turned, and spoke with his head up. - -"Ryan," he said deliberately, "you're a mucker." - -Brick stuck out his chin, and put his hands on his hips mockingly. "Oh, -I am, huh? Did you hear that, boys? F. X. A. Ryan is a mucker! Dear, -dear, it must be true--the Millionaire Baby says so! Well, what are you -goin' to do about it, Baby?" - -Dirk refused to lose his temper. "I shan't listen to all your talk any -longer, that's all. From now on, please don't speak to me unless it's -necessary. If we can't be friends, we'd better keep apart." - -"Dear, dear! Now he won't speak to me! My heart is breakin', boys!" -Quickly Brick dropped his mocking tone, and his next words were -threatening. He scowled fiercely into the face of his enemy. "Now, -listen, you! I hate sissies, and I hate tattle-tales, and if you don't -like the way I talk, you may wake up with a ring around your eye, and a -lily in your hand!" - -Slim Yerkes tried to interpose. "Come on, Brick--don't pick on him too -much. Let's get back to the lodge." - -Brick wheeled on the peacemaker. "He's lookin' for trouble, Slim, and -he's more than likely to get it. I've got half a mind to poke him one -right now for good luck." - -Dirk's eyes flashed. "That might not be as easy as you seem to think!" - -"Huh! Tough, aren't you?" His open hand darted out swiftly, and -unexpectedly shoved Dirk off his balance. Dirk cried out, caught -himself, and his fists clenched. He was pale save for two red spots that -glowed in his cheeks. - -"That's enough, Ryan!" he said, his lip trembling. "If you really must -settle this by scuffling like a street boy, who---- I'll fight you!" - -Brick's laugh was unpleasant to hear. "He'll fight! Listen, sissies like -you take a chance on gettin' murdered if they talk fight to Brick Ryan! -Why, you mama's boy, I'll knock you so cold you'll think you're at the -North Pole!" - -His words were louder than he thought. From a tent a hundred yards away, -a tousled head appeared, and shouted something to those within the tent. -"Fight! Fight!" In no time at all, the two Utway twins, followed by Al -Canning, had run down from the tent and joined the little ring of boys -from Tent One. - -Dirk was silently peeling off his wet gym-shirt. - -"You're really going to go against Brick Ryan?" Slim Yerkes asked in -astonishment. - -"I'm not to blame," responded Dirk shortly. "It's his lookout." - -Brick, a grim smile on his pugnacious face, was secretly sizing up the -lad whom he had driven by taunting words to defend himself with his -fists. He was not quite so sure, now, that Dirk was the sissy he had -proclaimed him to be; those shoulders and arms looked quite husky and -muscular, now that he looked closely. Brick decided that the thing to do -was to pitch in at once and overpower his opponent from the start. - -Jerry Utway was looking around the circle eagerly. The Utway brothers -were never far away when a scrap arose; it would seem that they smelled -the signs of battle from afar. "Gee, Jake!" he exclaimed, "the Van Horn -fellow is going to tackle Brick! I'm going to be his second!" - -"And I'll be Brick's second," responded his twin. "Come on, men, form a -ring here. Let's have this scrap with regular rules. Al, you can be -referee. It's a good thing no leaders are around to stop it!" - -Al Canning pulled out his watch. "Are you ready?" - -"Just a minute more," answered Jake. "Come on, Brick, strip off your -shirt. Gosh, this will be a real fight--bare knuckles to the finish!" - -Brick shook him aside. "Aw, I won't need anything like that. It'll take -me just one good smack to finish this fight. He's a coward." But -inwardly Brick was not so sure. Dirk Van Horn had said nothing since he -had issued his amazing challenge. He had calmly prepared for the fray, -and stood waiting quietly with no sign of fear on his set features. He -did not cower in fright, or try to bolster up his courage with a string -of biting words; and there was nothing amateurish about his pose as he -stood with his clenched fists hanging loosely at his sides. - -"I am ready," he said in answer to a question from the eager Jerry. - -"Good," said Al. "When I say 'Time!', you can start. All set? Time!" - -At the summons, Brick Ryan plunged forward over the grassy ground, fists -doubled, head down, and struck a sweeping blow at his enemy. To his -surprise, his flailing arm landed on thin air. Dirk had side-stepped -easily, and still stood with his arms hanging loosely at his side, his -face still calm. - -Brick whirled about and spat. "Come on and fight, will you? None of this -duckin' like a snake. And you guys get back, so I can have some room." -He plunged again at his foe, and aimed a second wide swing at Dirk's -face. - -This time Dirk did not dodge. Instead, he parried with the palm of his -left hand, and his right fist shot forward, taking the surprised Brick -in the side. It was a stinging blow, and Brick stepped back with a -grunt. He had not expected this. There were few boys at Lenape who would -dare to stand up against Brick Ryan even in a friendly bout with gloves; -yet here was the despised Van Horn, the pampered city boy who couldn't -even swim, not only defending himself skillfully from the Irish lad's -attack, but even striking back! - -The blow had made Brick more wary. This time he did not leap in with his -head down--too much chance of getting caught off guard again for those -tactics! He circled cautiously, trying to find an opening where a thrust -would do most good. His anger was rising, too. The breathless watchers -looked at his face, and waited awestricken for the terrible moment when -the aroused Brick Ryan would wade in and demolish his daring opponent. - -Jerry Utway, his eyes ablaze with excitement, jumped up and down, urging -his champion with delighted cries. "That's the boy, Van Horn, old scout! -Wade in and tap him one!" - -"Shut up, Jerry!" his brother Jake put in. "Let them alone, or there'll -be two fights going on here! Whee, look at that one! Go it, Brick!" - -Brick was again in the lists, this time depending upon speed and the -violent fury of his attack. It seemed to the onlookers that no one could -long withstand the force of his charge; his arms whirled and jabbed, and -his face was red with the exertion of his onslaught. Indeed, Van Horn -was quickly driven backwards, and more than once a doubled fist made its -red mark on his naked chest. But he still kept his feet, and although he -was given no chance to take the offensive, he guarded his face -skillfully. Yet slowly he gave ground; Brick had maneuvered about until -he was above where the other stood, and was driving him down the sloping -hillside. - -Nig Jackson gave vent to a yell. "He's got him now! Go it, Brick! Wow, -he's down!" - -Al Canning, in his capacity as referee, rushed forward. Dirk was -sprawled out upon the uneven ground, crouched on one side. His face was -whiter than ever. - -"Slipped on some grass," he mumbled through swollen lips. "I--I'm all -right." Unaided, he staggered to his feet, and looked about in a dazed -way. Brick, who had stepped aside when his foe had fallen, now advanced -confidently for the final sortie. - -"Finish him off, Brick!" yelled Eddie Scolter. Ryan, encouraged by the -shouts of the watchers, marched slowly and triumphantly to a stand just -beyond arm's length of where Dirk stood, dazedly shaking the sweat from -his eyes. - -"Had enough?" Brick taunted. His blows had taken effect in more than one -place on Dirk's face and body, and one shoulder was badly scraped by his -fall. But Brick himself did not go unmarked from the fray; his cheek was -coloring where a clenched fist had got through his guard, and his right -arm was weak from panting effort. - -Dirk Van Horn clenched his teeth without answering. For an instant, the -watching boys saw a stab of fury flare up in his dark eyes. He set his -feet, held his head high, and his arms swung into the guard position. - -Brick advanced still one further step. "Had enough, Baby? I won't ask -you again. If you'll apologize, I won't hurt you any more today----" - -He was too close for his own safety. Dirk grunted as he shot his arm -forward in a telling blow straight from the shoulder. His bunched -knuckles caught the surprised Brick on the point of the jaw. - -A ludicrous look of amazement came over Brick Ryan's face. For an -instant he tottered, grinning stupidly at the staring circle of boys; -then, with a soft groan, he slid backward, his knees gave way gently, -and he slumped senseless upon the ground. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - THE RED HAND REVENGERS - - -"Ten!" counted Al Canning. "Van Horn wins with a sweet knockout!" - -"Yay, Handsome Van, the K. O. Kid!" cried Jerry Utway, hammering his -champion upon the back. "Gee, what a beautiful swat that was!" - -Brick Ryan opened his eyes. His head was still spinning from the force -of the blow that had vanquished him. As through a mist he could see the -dim faces of the boys about his prostrate form. Among them stood out the -triumphant, smiling features of Dirk Van Horn. - -A hand shook his shoulder, and Jake Utway spoke in his ear. "Are you all -right now, Brick? Tough luck. He sure packs a wallop!" - -Brick tried to grin, and groaned in spite of himself. His jaw still -ached mightily where his antagonist's doubled fist had struck, and his -swollen lower lip was bleeding slightly. - -"I have to hand it to him," he mumbled, and with Jake's help clambered -unsteadily to his feet. - -"Gollies, how did he do it? It was as clean a knockout as I ever seen." - -"Well, you were asking for it," observed Slim Yerkes. - -"I guess I was." Brick smiled ruefully. "Van Horn, I guess we've been -gettin' each other wrong. There may be some things about campin' that -you don't know, but when it comes to scrappin'----! Say, you beat me -square, but I don't hold any grudge. From now on, let's forget -everything and be friends. What do you say?" He held out his hand in a -frank gesture. - -Dirk looked at the outstretched hand, and his lip curled slightly. - -"Ryan," he said deliberately, "I said you were a mucker, and I still -think so. Any time you want another boxing lesson, come around. -Otherwise, kindly keep to your own affairs and leave me to mine." He -pointedly turned his back, picked up his wet shirt, and stalked off up -the path to the lodge. - -Brick bit his lip, and his hand dropped with an angry gesture to his -side; but he said nothing. Jerry Utway left the group and ran after -Dirk, catching up with him and walking at a fast pace by his side. - -"Hey, Van, will you show me some time how you made that knockout? I want -to try it out on my brother next time we have a row. Gee, if anybody had -told me you could put out Brick Ryan's lights, I wouldn't have believed -it! Where did you learn how to fight like that?" - -"My father has seen to it that I had the best boxing lessons that money -could buy." Dirk smiled grimly. "Yesterday Ryan seemed to think that -having money wasn't of much value; but I hope that now he has learned -that scientific self-defense is a good thing to acquire. And because my -father could pay for those boxing lessons, I don't have to be bullied by -any street-boy that comes along." - -"It sure did make Brick sit up and take notice," chuckled Jerry. "But -why didn't you make up with him afterward?" - -"It's not so easy. He hazed me pretty badly last night, and I'm not done -with him yet." - -"But Brick is a pretty good fellow when you get to know him. Why don't -you----" Jerry broke off, and cocked his ear as bugle-notes rattled down -from the porch of the lodge. "Say, we better hurry--there goes Church -Call." He glanced with amusement at the battered features and wet, -stained garments of the boy at his side. "Gosh, you sure are a sight! -You and Brick Ryan will look like a swell pair, sitting on a bench -together at church this morning!" - -Dirk was quite late for church. He went to the empty tent, washed, and -changed his wet clothing for garments more suitable for Sunday service; -and the hour of camp worship was more than half over by the time he -slipped into a log seat in the woodland chapel overlooking the lake. -Brick was down at the front with the rest of the complement of Tent One, -but did not turn his head. One or two boys near by looked at Dirk's -marked face curiously, and Jake Utway once caught his eye, winked, and -grinned from behind a hymn-book. - -During the bountiful Sunday dinner in the lodge, Dirk, sitting with his -councilor on one side of him and Nig Jackson on the other, intercepted -many inquiring glances directed from neighboring tables toward himself -and Brick Ryan. The red-headed boy, for his part, ate with his head -down, saying nothing. If Sax McNulty had heard of the fight, he gave no -sign. - -When dessert was served, Sax looked whimsically at the plate of -ice-cream before him. - -"Your consciences ought to hurt you slackers," he observed. "If Lefty -hadn't stuck to his guns, the camp would be missing their ice-cream -today, all right. I've never had my squad sneak out on a job before. -What do you fellows think about it?" - -Dirk Van Horn felt the leader's eyes upon him. He flushed and tried to -look unconcerned; but the ice-cream, for some reason, stuck in his -throat, and he soon pushed the plate away, to melt into a shapeless -mass. - -When the time came for announcements, Dr. Cannon, who was officer of the -day, awarded the pennant for highest points in inspection to Wally -Rawn's tent; then, with a grin, marched over to the Tent One table and, -amid the good-natured jeers of the assembled campers, presented a -different sort of emblem. It was a big tin oil-can, across which was -printed in white letters: "Booby." - -"Tent One wins the Goof Loving Cup," the doctor announced with a -flourish, "for being lowest in honor points for today. And the first -shall be last!" - -"What's that for, Sax?" Eddie Scolter asked, pointing to the strange -object. - -"It means we have to hang that up on our tent-pole in full sight, so -everybody in camp can see we're a bunch of dubs," explained the leader, -with a glance around the table. "And that's just what we've been today. -Van Horn, you may have the privilege of carrying this little token down -to the tent." - -Dirk opened his mouth to protest, but the whistle sounded just then, and -the campers leaped to their feet and began pouring out the doors. -Picking up the loathed booby-can, Dirk started walking down toward the -tent. He had not gone far when he felt a hand on his arm, and he looked -up, frowning, to see Sax McNulty's serious face. - -"I didn't say anything at the table just now," began the leader, "but of -course you know you're to blame for most of our demerits today. I'm -afraid you're not getting off to a very good start at Lenape, Van." - -"Why blame me for everything?" - -"Well, I don't, exactly. The other fellows should have known better than -to drop their duty and help you launch your canoe this morning--but -you'll have to admit you were the main cause of it. Then, Wally Rawn -told me about your fool stunt at the lake. Also, and moreover, when the -inspection staff came around this noon, our tent was cluttered up with -your things strewn all over the place, wet clothes dumped on the -floor--plenty demerits. You'll have to learn not to do the first thing -that enters your head, Van Horn--you'll have to think of the other -fellow, and consider what will be for the good of the camp and your own -gang. I haven't mentioned anything about your fight with Ryan, but----" - -"He started that!" retorted Dirk. - -"I won't interfere there," promised McNulty gently. "Ryan is a decent -chap, and so are you; and I know that after a couple of days you will -get along together fine. Try to get his point of view. We've got a fine -bunch of fellows in Tent One this time, and as soon as we get to pulling -together, we're going to show Lenape some speed! I didn't mean to make -you listen to another sermon today," he ended wryly, "and I don't expect -you to learn everything about camping in a few hours. Come to me next -time you feel the urge to do something startling, and I'll try to put -you wise first." - -Dirk smarted under the words, but held back the bitter reply that rose -to his lips. He slammed the booby-can on a nail sticking into the front -tent-pole, and retired sulkily to his untidy bunk. The other boys, with -the exception of the two who were doing the dishes, were stretched -about, taking a restful siesta after their bountiful dinner. Across from -Dirk sat Brick Ryan, busied as usual over his life-saving manual, and -apparently unaware that there was anybody named Van Horn within a -thousand miles of him. For the first time, Dirk noticed that Brick wore -a curious insignia stitched to the front of his jersey. It was outlined -in green and white, and showed a large L superimposed upon a swastika. -Dirk's eyes passed to Lefty Reardon. Lefty also wore the green L. - -Dirk decided that the camp monogram would look most attractive on one of -his sweaters. He jumped up, and hurried back to the lodge before the -small camp store closed. - -On the porch of the lodge, a short string of boys stood before the -window, waiting their turn to make small purchases of candy, peanuts, -and gum. Dirk joined the end of the line. When he came abreast of the -window, he issued his demand. - -"I want one of those camp letters to put on my sweater." - -Long Jim Avery, the lanky councilor charged with the duty of looking -after the camp supplies, leaned far over the counter and looked at the -boy with astonishment. - -"You want what?" he asked with widening eyes. - -"Oh, you know what I mean, sir--one of those green and white things with -an L on them. I want to buy one." - -The boy in back of Dirk snickered. Long Jim gulped. - -"Somebody's trying to play a joke on you, Van Horn. Why, I thought even -a new boy knew that you can't buy an honor emblem!" - -Dirk flushed. "But--some of the chaps have them. Where do you get them, -then?" - -"My, my! You can't buy one--you have to earn it, and then it's awarded -to you at Council Ring. That's a good one! Why, before you have the -right to wear an honor emblem, you have to pass a lot of tests--you have -to know a bunch of trees and birds and flowers and rocks and stars, and -how to swim and handle a boat, and hike and cook and build woodcraft -objects, and--oh, lots of things! Here, I'll get you a card with all the -requirements printed on it, and when you pass a test, the leader who -passes you will put his initials down. Campers have a chance to pass the -tests all the time. If I can help you learn some of the things, come -around." - -"Never mind," stammered Dirk miserably, backing away. "I didn't know---- -I guess I don't want to start in right now." - -He stumbled off down the steps. They were making fun of him again! The -boys would spread the story around--how he had tried to buy an honor -emblem at the store--and soon the whole camp would be laughing at his -latest fool stunt! No matter what he started to do at Lenape, it always -turned out to be the wrong thing! Now McNulty would have more of his -comments to make! - -Dirk was feeling very sorry for himself. Tears of helpless rage welled -into his eyes, and he did not see that someone was standing in front of -him until he heard his name called in a mysterious whisper. - -"Psst! Van Horn! Say, I want to see you a second!" - -Dirk looked up. The speaker was a runty-looking boy with a large nose -and close-set black eyes. He took Dirk's arm with a familiar gesture, -and patted him on the back. - -"Say, I want to tell you. I heard about how you licked Red Ryan. Gee, -that was swell! I wish I'd seen you do it!" - -"How did you know about it?" asked Dirk. - -"Why, everybody in camp knows about it! You're a hero, that's what you -are! A real tough fighter, you must be! There are lots of guys in this -camp that don't like Ryan, and are glad he got it good at last! Say, we -don't want anybody to notice I'm talkin' to you, see? Come on, duck in -here and I'll tell you somethin' real important!" - -"What do you want? Why can't you tell me here?" - -"It's too secret, see? Quick--slide in here." - -Dirk, fearing some new pitfall, followed suspiciously; but the -mysterious manner of the big-nosed little fellow impressed him in spite -of himself, and he allowed himself to be drawn under the shadow of the -overhanging porch of the lodge. Here several small rooms had been -built--a dark-room for the convenience of the camp photographers, and a -larger compartment in which were stored trunks, suitcases, old tents, -and the like. Through the door of the latter room he followed his guide, -who shut that door carefully and then sat on a pile of lumber. - -"Don't talk too loud, see?" he warned Dirk. "We don't want nobody to -guess what we're after." - -"Well, what are you after anyway?" Dirk asked impatiently. "Who are you, -and why are you acting so mysterious about everything?" - -"My name's Blum," the other whispered hoarsely. "'Dumb' Blum, the guys -call me, but that's only a nickname--I'm not so dumb as most people -think. Now, listen. You've got it in for Brick Ryan, haven't you?" - -"Well, we haven't got along together so far. But what has that to do -with you?" - -"You'll see! And you don't like Sax McNulty any too well, do you? He -bawled you out pretty heavy a little while ago, didn't he?" - -"How did you know?" - -"I know lots of things!" the other chuckled. "Some people in this camp -are not treatin' you right, Van! But me and some other guys can see what -a swell feller you are, and we're ready to help you." - -"Help me to do what?" - -"Revenge! That's what! How would you like it if you could get back at -everybody that ever does anything to you around here? Brick Ryan, for -instance--if somethin' pretty terrible happened to him, nobody would -guess who done it; but you could laugh up your sleeve all the time!" - -Dirk looked puzzled. "What are you driving at?" - -A malicious laugh answered him. - -"I got a gang. We do pretty well what we like around this camp, and if -anybody don't like it--even leaders, or even the Chief himself--why, -they're good and sorry for it! We have meetings in the middle of the -night, and we sign the oath with our own blood, and swear that if -anybody hurts any one of us, why, we get revenge! We go under the secret -name of the Red Hand Revengers, and we want you to join with us, see?" - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - SHENANIGANS FOR BRICK - - -It didn't seem a bad idea, the way Blum put it. The Red Hand Revengers, -with their mysterious meetings in the dead of night, their oaths of -blood brotherhood, and their secret signs and deeds of vengeance against -those who thwarted them, sounded most exciting. Even before the leader -of this mystic society had finished speaking, Dirk Van Horn had made up -his mind. - -"I'll join!" he declared. "What do I have to do?" - -"Oh, you won't need to be initiated," Blum assured him. "We'll have our -first meeting tonight after taps, and you can meet the rest of the guys. -We all wear masks over our faces, and have secret names. My Revenger -name is----Swear on your heart and liver you won't tell anybody?" - -"Yes, I swear." - -"Well, I'm known as the Headless Green Dragon, see? When you send me a -secret note, always draw a picture of a headless dragon, and I'll know -it's for me. If you want to, you can be the Silent Dagger, or anything -like that----I know! How about Iron Gauntlet, on account of the way you -knocked out Brick?" - -"All right. That sounds splendid. And I'll bring a watermelon to the -meeting tonight. My father brought it up to give to the other fellows in -the tent, but they don't deserve it. And listen----" - -"Yeah?" - -"I'll write home and have my mother send up a big box of cake and candy -and stuff, just for the Revengers!" said Dirk. "And when they let me use -my canoe, we'll all go out in it, and----" - -"No!" objected Blum. "Don't forget we mustn't be seen together! When I -want to get in touch with you, I'll leave a note under your pillow. Now, -we'll have to separate pretty quick. I'll get you when everybody is -asleep tonight, and we'll have our first meeting. You stay here a couple -minutes after I leave, so nobody will guess what we're up to. And right -today, Iron Gauntlet, old revenger, we'll start putting the Red Curse on -that varlet Brick Ryan!" - -Blum, master of the sinister Red Hand, tip-toed to the door. - -"So long, Headless Green Dragon!" Dirk whispered after him. - -That night Brick Ryan returned from Indian Council Ring to find the -first of his troubles upon him. The campers had been summoned to their -quarters after an evening spent about the four-square fire of -friendship, and by the light of the tent lantern, the inhabitants of -Tent One were undressing for the night. Brick Ryan slipped into his -pajamas and turned down his blankets, ready to jump in. An angry cry -escaped him. - -"What's the matter, Brick?" asked Lefty Reardon sleepily. - -"Somebody's hashed my bunk, that's what!" the Irish boy exclaimed. "Look -there, will you? The whole bed is stuck full of cockleburrs! I can't -sleep in it!" - -"Gee, that's too bad," said his friend sympathetically. "Here, I'll help -you pull 'em out. Sax will be back in a few minutes--why don't you tell -him about it? What a dirty trick to play on a fellow!" - -"If I knew who did it, I sure wouldn't have to tell a leader about it!" -said Brick through clenched teeth. He looked about in the dull light at -the faces of his mates. All of them looked innocent; Dirk Van Horn -looked suspiciously so, and there was a faint trace of a smile on his -good-looking features. Could Van Horn have----? But the heartless trick -must have been done during Council, and Dirk had been sitting in his -place every moment of the time. - -"Somebody must have it in for you, Brick," commented Lefty as the two -bent over the blankets and began pulling out the prickly burrs with -which they were covered. "Gee, this is going to be a long, slow job. Who -do you suppose hates you so much that he'd do a mean thing like this to -you?" - -"I don't know," admitted Brick. "But I'm sure going to find out, and -when I do, you can bet he'll get paid back for his low, sneaking work!" - -Brick slept but poorly that night, for it had been impossible to remove -all the sharp, pin-like burrs with which his blankets had been coated. -He tossed and turned, and kept finding new spines that had penetrated -through the woolen mass to irritate him. Muttering to himself, he at -last drifted off to sleep. Later, he awoke for a moment, and looked -across the tent, where some unseen person was crawling back into his -bunk; but he thought nothing of it, and in the morning had forgotten all -about it. - -The morning was cloudy, and a cool wind swept down from the northeast. -When Brick piled out of his uncomfortable bedclothes at Reveille, he -thrust his feet into his shoes, as usual. But the state of those shoes -was far from usual. Brick let out a yell of rage. His shoes were -brim-full of icy water, and the strings were knotted a dozen times. He -had to hurry to setting-up drill barefoot over the rough ground; and to -crown it all, his bathrobe was missing, and he shivered in the raw -breeze until he caught sight of the garment hung in a pine tree far -below the parade ground. And he found that when he went to brush his -teeth before breakfast, his tooth-paste tube had been stuffed with soap; -but he did not find out until his mouth was burning with the choking -stuff, and he was frothing and blowing sudsy bubbles, much to the -delight of two small boys who scrubbed away beside him. He washed out -his mouth, but the vile taste remained until long after the morning -meal. - -Brick began to wonder if he were bewitched. What was the meaning of this -series of afflictions? He could find no trace of whoever had committed -these acts. If it was Dirk Van Horn, he covered it up pretty well. -Besides, why should Van Horn resort to such stealthy tricks, the acts of -a cowardly soul? Van Horn had fought him the day before, and won fairly; -why should he now begin a campaign of cockleburrs, watered shoes, and -soapy tooth-paste? - -The bewildered Brick spoke to his friend Lefty about it when the two -were walking up from morning swim. - -"And when I got back after breakfast, I found a big hoptoad in my -clothes locker," he concluded, "and nobody was around but a little kid -from Tent Seven. Who do you suppose it can be, Lefty? How long will it -go on? I swear, I'm about ready to soak somebody in the nose if I catch -him getting into my things. Am I haunted, or what?" - -"You are," agreed Lefty promptly. "You're haunted by some sneaking -coward who is trying to get your goat. Van Horn fought you fair -yesterday, didn't he?" he went on in a matter-of-fact tone. - -"Sure. I didn't mind that. But the Millionaire Baby, although he has -some crazy ideas, wouldn't stoop to those tricks, I guess." - -"If he did, he wouldn't stand a show of getting on the baseball team, -Shawnee game or no Shawnee game," said Lefty. "As long as I'm captain, -we'll have only square-shooters playing for Lenape. You comin' down for -practice this afternoon, eh?" - -"You bet, if my glove hasn't been stolen by that time. I swear, Lefty, -I'm gettin' so I'm scared to turn around, for fear somebody will swipe -my pants when I'm not lookin'! But, say, do you think this Van Horn guy -is really baseball material?" - -Lefty shrugged. "We'll try him out. Goodness knows we can't pass up any -promising players, when we only have today and tomorrow to get ready for -the Shawnee game. I hear Shawnee has got back Hook Bollard and Widelle -this year, and that catcher of theirs--what's his name?--that made three -runs last time we played them. If Lenape wants to take the best end of -the score on Wednesday, we've got to show some steam!" - -When the announcements were made at lunch, Lefty Reardon rose and read a -list of names of the campers who had been chosen to form the team that -would defend Lenape's honor on the baseball diamond on the following -Wednesday. On that day, the whole of Lenape would trek northward to the -shores of Iron Lake for a visit to their rival, Camp Shawnee. The -crowning event of the day would be a ball game between the two camp -teams, thus renewing a yearly custom of friendly sportsmanship. Lenape -had been badly beaten the season before, and among the campers there was -much talk of the coming encounter, and predictions that this time they -would pay back the old score with a rousing victory. - -Dirk Van Horn noted with disappointment that his name was not among -those called; but no sooner had Lefty seated himself than he turned to -Dirk and said: "Say, Van, I hear you're supposed to be a fielder. If you -want to come down to the diamond with the rest of the team, we'll try -you out and see if we can find a place for you." - -"Sure, try out!" urged Sax McNulty. "You were on your prep school team, -weren't you, Van?" - -Dirk nodded. "I'll come down, sir." He had spent the morning lolling in -his bunk with a book of stories, and had disregarded Wally Rawn's offer -to teach him to swim. Neither had he made any move to join in the many -other activities of the camp routine. But baseball was different, he -felt; he knew and liked that sport best of all, and had little doubt -that with his school training, he could hold a position on a scratch -team such as he thought the Lenape squad to be. - -When the bugle sounded recall, Dirk, resplendent in a brand-new baseball -suit and bearing a well-oiled glove under his arm, sauntered down to the -field and reported to Captain Reardon, who with Kipper Dabney was -warming up a few curves. Lefty slammed a sizzling drop into Gil -Shelton's padded mitt, and turned to Dirk with a nod. - -"You can get out there with the bunch and get under a few of those -fungoes that Mullins is knocking," he directed, "and show us what you -can do. Later on, we'll have batting practice and you'll have a chance -to prove you can hit." - -Dirk, with a confident smile, trotted out into the tall grass behind -third base, and for half an hour, in company with Ollie Steffins, -Blackie Thorne, and a youngster named Tompkins, he fielded lofty flies -and grounders from Soapy Mullins' resounding bat. Now and then he -glanced at the other members of the squad. The infielders were tossing -the ball back and forth with easy skill, and Brick Ryan, hovering over -first base, missed few of the shots that came near his post. - -When the players were warmed up sufficiently, they lined up one after -another to face the delivery of Captain Lefty and his relief pitcher, -Dabney. At last it came Dirk's turn. He selected a bat and approached -the plate with a cocky grin. Lefty, noting his short grip, thought to -teach this arrogant newcomer a little lesson, and slipped over a neat -inshoot that took him up short. - -"Strike!" called out Lieutenant Eames, whose service on the West Point -team qualified him as volunteer umpire. - -Dirk did not lengthen his grip; but when Lefty sought to repeat his -trick, he was ready for it. As the whirling ball neared the plate, Dirk -stepped back a pace and his levelled bat met the horsehide smartly. A -clean single flew through the infield well inside the lines and through -the fingers of Ken Haveland, who was covering the domain of shortstop. -The few scattered spectators set up a quick shout of approval. - -When the period of practice was over, Lefty announced that there would -be a short game with a team of leaders the following afternoon; and the -players strolled in twos and threes back to their tents to prepare for -swim. Lefty, on his way to the lodge burdened with bats and other -equipment, found Brick Ryan sitting on a bench under a huge black cherry -tree at the gate. - -"Why so thoughtful?" Lefty hailed him. "And by the way, where were you -for batting practice? You slipped off without telling me." - -"I had an idea," responded his friend grimly. - -"I see--and it gave you a headache." - -"No, it gave somebody else an ache, but not in the head. I put a stop to -all these shenanigans that have been raisin' cain with my belongin's--at -least, I put a stop to them for a while, anyway. I sneaked up on Tent -One durin' battin' practice. Not a soul was around, except that nasty -little Toby brat from Tent Eight. Do you know, I caught him in the very -act of dumpin' a pail of water right on my bed!" - -"No!" - -"Yes. I spanked him, Lefty." - -"But what would he do that for? What's he got against you?" - -"Not a thing that I know of. It's a mystery." - -Lefty threw back his head and laughed. "Better not let young Sherlock -Jones hear about it," he advised. "He'll pester around with clues until -he's dizzy. Well, I'm glad Van Horn didn't have anything to do with it. -He was down at the field all the while." - -"Well, he's stretchin' his bunk right now, readin' bedtime stories. How -did he look in there today?" - -"Not bad. He's a better fielder than Terry Tompkins, that's sure. And -he's fairly brainy with a bat. Tomorrow we can see what he can do -against the councilors." - -Lefty picked up his equipment and started on. He had only gone a few -paces when Brick, who had not moved, called after him in a low voice: - -"Say, my son, what do you guess is the meanin' of R.H.R.?" - -Lefty considered. "Why, it might be Red-Hot Rhubarb, or Right-Handed -Rattlesnake, or anything. Why do you ask?" - -"Nothin'," muttered Brick. "But maybe tonight I'll find out, and if I -do, Lefty me boy, I'll tell you all about it!" - - - - - CHAPTER IX - DIRK HEARS OF THE LONG TRAIL - - -Six masked figures sat with their heads together in the starlight of the -deserted Council Ring. It was late. Two hours gone, Camp Lenape had -retired to a rest welcome and well-earned. But here in this lonely spot, -their presence unknown to their fellows and councilors, the mysterious -six plotted mischief. In the shadow of the tall stone seat of the Chief, -on the north side of the ring, they crouched, listening to the graveyard -tones of their undersized leader. - -"Brother Revengers, we will now have a report from the Stealthy Stabber. -He's goin' to tell us all about the Ryan Curse affair, see? Speak up, -Stabber!" - -"He walloped me!" spoke up a shrill voice, more whimpering than -bloodthirsty, and the little fellow rubbed himself tenderly at the -painful memory. - -"And served you right, too!" put in a third Revenger. "I didn't know you -were going as far as you did. I think it was a bunch of cowardly -tricks--soaping up his tooth-paste and trying to soak his blankets with -a pail of water--and if I had known, I wouldn't have let it happen!" - -"Aw, say, Iron Gauntlet, old fellow," whined the leader; "you ain't -goin' to back out like that, are you? Why, Stabber and Red Rover and the -rest of us only did all this stuff to help you out!" - -"I don't need that sort of help, thank you," replied Iron Gauntlet, -settling back in his place. "It was mean, and from now on I want to tell -you that I----" - -"What's that?" cried a small lad to his right, starting up in his place -and listening fearfully. The leader laughed sneeringly. - -"Don't get scared, kid. Ain't the Headless Green Dragon here to protect -you? That was only an owl hootin'. Gee, you guys are sure a bunch of -babies. A fine gang of Revengers you turned out to be!" - -"But it sounded pretty terrible, Dumb," muttered the lad, shivering. "I -don't like it here in the woods--it's too spooky! Suppose a bear or -something came after us!" - -Dumb Blum laughed again. "No bears around here. And even if there was, I -guess they wouldn't bother me! Now, we got to figure what to do next. If -Iron Gauntlet here thinks we ought to lay off Brick Ryan for a while, -why, there's lot of other varlets around camp we could torture---- Ooh! -Look there!" - -The bold master of the dread secret society pointed a shaking hand. His -small followers fell back, several of them squealing with terror. - -Dirk Van Horn looked in the direction at which Blum was fearfully -pointing. Above the stone dais of the Chief before them rose a horrible -shapeless form, gleaming with unearthly fire. Slowly, as they watched, -rooted to the spot, the monster stirred, the folds of its skin glowing -with a pale green luminescence, and uttered at the horrified boys a -sepulchral bellow! - -"It's--it's the Green Dragon!" babbled the Stealthy Stabber, with -chattering teeth. - -Even as he spoke, the gaping mouth of the creature yawned open. A -fizzing spurt of yellow sparks darted from the cavity. With a blinding -flash, a ball of crimson fire shot out at them, throwing a bloody glow -over the scene. The horror was coming after them, belching flame and -smoke! - -Another ball of fire, this time a deathlike blue in color, burst in -their midst. Without a further glance, the terrified youngsters took to -their heels and ran through the underbrush, stumbling, falling, crying -out as they fled from that ghastly spot. Far in the van was the doughty -Blum, almost out of his head with fear, racing as though that glowing -green devil was right at his heels! - -Dirk Van Horn had risen to his feet, and had backed away from the -oncoming monster. He could flee no further; his legs were weak with -fright; his back was braced against the towering totem-pole of the -Lenape tribe; and his teeth were clenched to keep himself from crying -out. Straight toward him shambled the glowing shape, showering -many-colored sparks as it came! - -He stared petrified. The dragon paused in the center of the ring, shot -forth a final rain of sparks, and collapsed to the ground, its -phosphorescent hide thrown back. From within its folds rose a -high-pitched, mocking laugh that was harder for Dirk to bear than the -blood-curdling groans it had formerly given forth. - -That laugh! Dirk drew out his forgotten flashlight, and snapped the -button. A ray of light shot out, and revealed Brick Ryan, rolling on the -ground in a tempest of mirth, clutching in one hand a smoking thick tube -of paper. At his side lay the cast-off skin of the "dragon" that had put -to rout the brave band of Red Revengers. - -Always Brick Ryan! Dirk sank limply to a seat, and put his head in his -hands. The shock had been greater than he thought. - -Brick, still chuckling, rose and came toward him. "Gollies! Did you see -those bold lads run for it! They won't stop until they're safe in bed -with the covers pulled over their heads! And nothin' after them but F. -X. A. Ryan wrapped up in an old piece of canvas rubbed with phosphorus!" - -"But that terrible fire--those lights----" murmured Dirk. "Why--how----" - -Brick burst into another peal of laughter. "Just a little old Roman -candle left over from the Fourth of July! And in case you want to know -how I found out what was up, I discovered a bit of a note under your -pillow this afternoon, tellin' all about your fine meetin' and how you -were goin' to fix Ryan for keeps. But when Ryan came himself to see -these brave laddies, they scooted like the pack of rabbits they are! -Revengers! Huh! Dumb Blum and his gang of babies may be all right for -sneakin' around and messin' up a fellow's things, but they sure aren't -very happy out here in the woods at night!" - -Dirk lifted his head wearily. "I wanted to speak to you about that, -Ryan. I didn't know they were going to fill your shoes with water and -steal your things, or I wouldn't have stood for it. Those were coward's -tricks; and I want you to know I'm sorry." - -"Bein' sorry won't help you much. Maybe I believe you, and maybe I -don't; but anyways, you were out here with that bunch, cookin' up -trouble, and you sure looked pretty cheap. Blum was tryin' to get you to -do his dirty work, and he's such a coward himself he has to pull this -secret society stuff and make little kids that don't know any better -follow him around like he was somebody, the nasty little brat. So that's -the kind of a friend you pick, huh?" - -Dirk sighed. "I said I was in the wrong, Ryan, and I apologized. I'm -sorry I got mixed up in this affair. What else can I say?" - -"You've said enough, as far as I'm concerned. Now, unless we both get -back to Tent One pretty quick, you and I will be spendin' tomorrow on -the wood-pile. Those scared kids have probably wakened up the whole -camp." - -Dirk nodded, rising to his feet. "But before we go, Ryan, tell me just -one thing. I--I guess I'm not the right sort of chap to get along here -at Lenape. I try to do the right thing, but I always seem to end up in -trouble. Tell me, what is the matter with me?" - -Brick, taken aback at the other's frankness, looked at the ground. "I'm -no preacher," he mumbled slowly. "When--when I first came to Lenape, I -guess I was just as bad as you, and a lot worse. And maybe my trouble -was the same as yours. I was always thinkin' first of Brick Ryan, and -never stoppin' to wonder how it struck the other fellow. Then one of the -leaders got me to see that I could get most fun out of campin' by doin' -things for Lenape instead of bein' selfish and tryin' to show how smart -a guy F. X. A. Ryan was. I--I guess that's what they mean when they talk -of camp spirit," he ended lamely; "thinkin' about the good of the crowd -instead of just showin' off for your own benefit. Now, let's get along!" - -"You mean---- Say!" cried Dirk with glowing eyes, "I'd like to do -something for the camp! No, I don't mean asking my father for some money -and buying stuff for everybody to use. I mean, well--if we won that -baseball game Wednesday, I guess it would be a thing to be proud of! -Ryan, I'm going to play as I never played before--for the honor of the -camp!" - -"That would be a starter," Brick admitted. "Now, for gosh sakes, let's -get out of here!" - -The two made their way back to their bunks without mishap, and turned in -to take a much-needed sleep. However, before he shut his eyes for good, -Dirk pondered over the events of the night; and he decided that he would -not forget the advice that his red-haired tent-mate had offered him in -the Council Ring. - -Next morning, as Dirk was racing down to Indian Dip in the sparkling -lake along with the rest of the newly-risen campers, he found Dumb Blum -at his side. - -"Say, what happened last night, anyway?" asked the erstwhile leader of -the Revengers. "Did that thing catch you, or what? What was it, Van?" he -asked with Wide eyes. - -"It was Brick Ryan," Dirk replied; and ignoring the other's cry of -amazement, went on: "He made me realize what a silly thing we were -doing, having a secret society and all that foolishness. Listen, Blum; I -think you're a coward, and if I find out that you and your friends are -having any more meetings of your absurd R.H.R., I promise I'll make you -regret it." - -He clenched his fist, and Blum, his jaw dropping, backed off hastily. - -"I won't have anything to do with it!" he promised. "Don't hit me, Van -Horn!" He fell back, and Dirk, unmindful, trotted down to the dock, -leaving the despised Blum far in the rear. - -That afternoon the promised game with the councilors kept the Lenape -team on the jump to defend their positions against prime competition. -With Lieutenant Eames on the mound for the leaders, and Chief himself, -in mask and chest-protector, behind the plate, the camper squad were -hard put to it to score. However, Soapy Mullins got home on a two-bagger -made by Lefty Reardon, and in the fifth inning, which was by agreement -the last, Blackie Thorne surprised himself as much as the others by -hitting a long fly that landed among the rocks of the stone fence, and -was not found until he had completed a tour of the bases for the second -tally. But when the leaders came up for the last time, they began a -merry procession that ended only with Swim Call, leaving the final score -5-2 in favor of the councilors. - -"You had us going for a while, Captain," the Chief called to Lefty as -the game ended. "If your team plays as well on Wednesday, Shawnee will -have to use ten men to beat you!" - -"Thanks, Chief," responded the pitcher, with a grin. "But it won't be a -cinch by any means. They have the toughest outfit this year they've ever -had, and I'm sure going into the box with my pockets full of four-leaf -clovers!" - -Although the game had not been a victory for the camper team, it had -ended happily for Dirk Van Horn. Inspired by his resolve of the previous -night, he had never played a better game in all his days at prep school. -He had fielded like a veteran, and once he scooped in a pop fly in such -quick time that he had slammed it down to Brick Ryan on first for a -double play against the unprepared Mr. Lane, who was caught trying to -regain first base. At the finish, when Lefty told him that his position -in left field would be confirmed for the Shawnee game, he glowed with -the most pleasant feeling he had enjoyed since he first put foot on the -Lenape campus. - -He strolled back to Tent One with Lefty, chatting eagerly of their -prospects. When the pair reached the tent, they found Sax McNulty and -the rest of their comrades gathered in an excited group around Brick -Ryan, who was grinning broadly and trying modestly to conceal his pride. - -"What's up, men?" challenged Lefty. "Why all the celebration?" - -"We just got the news that our gang will be represented on the Long -Trail this year!" answered the councilor. "Congrats again, Brick! He's -going to help plant the Lenape pennant on old Mount Kinnecut. Stand up, -you red-headed riot, and bow to the ladies and gentlemen!" - -Brick blushed beneath his freckles. "Aw, it's not so much to talk -about." He choked as his friend Lefty Reardon pounded him on the back -heartily. - -"You're wrong there, old scout!" Lefty shouted. "I went last year, and -it was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. Talk about fun! And -we had some exciting adventures, too. Boy, when you're tenting by Lake -Moosehorn and catching a mess of bass for your supper, think of poor -Lefty back at Lenape, wishing he was along again this season!" - -Sax McNulty stared into the distance. "I scaled Kinnecut five--no, -six--years ago, it was," he said softly. "I'll never have such a great -time if I live to be a hundred and fifty! Tiny Krouse, my canoe-mate, -was chased two miles by a mama-bear who thought he was trying to kidnap -her cubs! And the view from the Lookout! Why----" - -"Tell us about it, Sax!" begged Nig Jackson. - -Dirk, who had been looking from one to another of the eager boys, now -broke in. "Yes, but first tell me what all this is about! What is Brick -going to do, anyway? Where is the Long Trail?" - -"Tell him, Lefty," nodded McNulty. - -"Well, Van, it's this way. The Long Trail is an old Lenape custom that -was started by six fellows the first year the camp began. They went for -a sixty-mile trip from here to Mount Kinnecut, up the river by canoes -and over the ponds to Lake Moosehorn, then hiking through the big timber -and climbing the mountain. Since then, every year, six boys under a -leader make the same trip, and now there are nine Camp Lenape pennants -nailed to the tallest tree on the very top of old Kinnecut, to show that -the chosen campers can come through a long endurance test with flying -colors. It's not an easy trail, and so only the fellows who are best -fitted for it can go. Once you've made the trip, you can't go -again--only Mr. Carrigan, who is in command, has been over it before. I -want to tell you youngsters that it's the one big thing at Lenape that -you can never forget! Brick, I say it again, you're a lucky bum!" - -Dirk was still puzzled. "How do they pick the fellows to go?" - -"Well, they have to be in first-class shape all around--healthy, full of -pep and camp spirit, and they have to know their way around on the water -and in the woods," said McNulty. "And Wise-Tongue Carrigan has made a -good choice this year, if you ask me. Besides Brick, he's picked Steve -Link, Wild Willie Sanders, Spaghetti Megaro, Cowboy Platt, and Ugly -Brown. Ugly is younger than the rest, but he's a fine little woodsman -and can handle a canoe like an Indian. I tell you, Van Horn, if you make -the most of your chances this summer, I wouldn't be surprised to see you -leading the list of Long Trailers next season!" - -Dirk stared at the friendly face of the leader, and at Brick Ryan's -happy grin. It must be the most wonderful adventure in the world, the -Long Trail. But next season--that was a long time to wait! - - - - - CHAPTER X - OFF FOR CAMP SHAWNEE - - -"Come in!" called the Chief, looking up from the papers on his desk. -"Oh, hello, Dirk! Sit down and tell me what's on your mind." - -Dirk Van Horn carefully closed the door of the little office, and faced -the genial camp director. - -"If you aren't too busy, sir, I'd like to ask you something." - -"Never too busy to talk to campers! But it's a fact that I haven't seen -very much of you, Dirk, since your folks brought you up here to Lenape. -Of course"--the Chief smiled slightly--"I've heard reports of your -doings, now and then. How do you like Lenape so far?" - -The boy looked at the man ruefully. "I'm beginning to wonder," he said, -"if you shouldn't ask how Lenape likes me!" - -"You've learned a lot, if you know that, Dirk." - -"I have learned a lot. I've only been here a few days, Chief, but even I -can see that I have been an utter chump, all along. It's taken me a long -time to get things straight, and I'm still pretty green, I guess. But -from now on, I want to tell you I'm trying to be a real camper!" - -The Chief leaned back in his chair, and rubbed his chin reflectively. -"You seem to be in the right frame of mind to do it, Dirk. We leaders -can help some, but unless a boy learns these things from other boys and -by thinking about them himself, we can't do very much. But I know," he -went on, "that you didn't come here this morning just to tell me you -want to be a true Lenape camper. What's on your mind?" - -Dirk gulped. "It's a big thing to ask," he blurted, "and maybe I -shouldn't say it." - -"Come, out with it!" - -"Well--well--Chief, I want to go on the Long Trail!" - -For some space of time after this pronouncement, the man said nothing. -Dirk, searching his chief's face for some sign, breathed a heavy sigh of -disappointment, and rose to go. - -"Sit down, Dirk! The Long Trail, eh? I suppose you know what you're -asking?" - -Dirk, with new eagerness in his eyes, sank again into his chair. "Mr. -McNulty and some of the chaps have been talking about it, and Ryan, in -our tent, is going. It must be a splendid experience, sir, and I--I---- -Yes, I know I'm not much as a woodsman--why, I got lost within a little -way from the camp!--and I guess I'd be a drag on the rest of the fellows -on a long trip like that. But, oh, sir, give me a chance!" - -The Chief stared through the little window over his desk, a tiny square -through which came a glimpse of the pines and the rippling waters of -Lake Lenape. - -"The boys that Mr. Carrigan has chosen are all picked campers," he said -at last. "Most of them have spent three seasons here, and in that time -have learned the many things they must know to take care of themselves -on a long trip that would test the endurance of many grown men. -Moreover, these boys realize that in order to get through and plant our -banner on Mount Kinnecut, they must work together as one, must share -alike for the good of the tribe, as the old Indians and scouts used to -do. Out of the hundred boys here each summer, only six are ever chosen -to take this trail for the honor of Lenape. Now, knowing all this, do -you still want to go?" - -Dirk nodded dully. "But I'm bigger and stronger than Ugly Brown, and -he's going! And I'd do my best to learn everything, and try to keep up -with the rest of the party----" - -"Brown is one of the best young campers we have," observed the Chief, -"even if he is small. If you knew a tenth as much as he does about the -woods and the water, you might stand a chance. Come, now, Dirk, I know -how you feel. I've known your dad for years, and I can guess that if you -ever wanted anything, he would get it for you. But this thing you speak -of is different. You can only get it for yourself; and the harder you -work to earn it, the more you'll value it. Learn as much as you can this -summer, and next year, we'll see about letting you hit the trail for -Kinnecut! How about it?" - -Dirk, not trusting himself to speak, shook his head dumbly, and looked -at the floor. He might have known the Chief would say no, but--but---- - -The director was watching him with new interest. "Well, you are -persistent!" he exclaimed. "That might count for something in your -favor. Now, let me ask you a question. You've been at Lenape for four -days. What have you learned that will stand you in good stead on a stiff -hike and canoe-trip through some of the wildest country in the state?" - -"Nothing, I guess," confessed Dirk humbly. "I haven't even learned to -swim, and even the littlest fellows make fun of me wading around in the -shallow water. But I'll try, Chief, I will! Only let me----" - -"Your canoe is still on the dock, isn't it?" - -"Yes. Mr. Rawn said he wouldn't let me take it out until I could swim -and learn how to handle a paddle. I--I haven't bothered to learn. I can -see I've wasted my time fooling around with silly things, and -loafing----" - -"All right. That's enough. Dirk, you have lots of stuff in you that, if -you want it badly enough, can help you become a first-rate camper. -You've shown it by getting out and chasing flies on the baseball team, -and that's a fine start. If you really believe what you've told me just -now, your spirit in the future will be the finest thing that could come -to you. You can see that your chances of holding your own on the Long -Trail this year are pretty slim. But, since you're so eager, I don't -mind telling you that there is a chance!" - -Dirk's eyes widened, and he jumped up. "You mean---- What do you want me -to do, Chief?" - -"I'll make a bargain with you. Man to man. The Long Trailers will start -next Monday for the river. That gives us five days. If, during those -five days, you can pass all the requirements for the Lenape honor -emblem, I'll ask Mr. Carrigan to take you along!" - -"Do you really mean it? Why, Chief, that's a wonderful offer! And I'll -do it--I know I will!" Dirk cried. - -The director was amused. "Don't be too sure, Dirk. You don't know what -you are up against." He opened the drawer of his desk and drew out a -printed card. "Here is a list of the things you will have to do. It's a -long list, and four days is a short time. Remember, too, that you must -not neglect your regular camp duties to work on any of the tests. One of -the requirements, and the biggest, is that you must show a fine, -all-around camp spirit; and that means you will have to think of the -honor of your tent and the welfare of everybody and everything in camp. -But if you do a good job out there in left field tomorrow at Shawnee, -I'll sign this card in this space calling for participation in an -inter-camp athletic contest, and that will be one less test for you to -do before Sunday night." - -Dirk took the card, and glanced at the rows of print upon it. "It's a -bargain!" he cried. "And I'll start working on the tests this very -minute!" - -"Hold on! There's one thing more I want to say before you rush out and -start your job. Remember what I've told you--your chance of fitting -yourself for the Long Trail is a very slim one indeed. Promise me that, -in the event you don't come through with your part of our bargain, you -will take it like a sportsman, and even though you miss out this season, -you will continue in the same spirit that you are starting now. It may -be bitter medicine to take, but take it like a man!" - -"I--I promise, Chief." - -Dirk fumbled for the doorknob, his heart full of gratitude and a -determination that was new to him. He found himself outside the office, -standing on the porch with a cool wind about his hot forehead. Through -blurred eyes he scanned the printed card in his hand, reading the list -of things that he must do within the coming days, if he was to join -Brick Ryan and the rest on the Long Trail: - - REQUIREMENTS FOR LENAPE HONOR EMBLEM - - 1. Know the North Star and five constellations. - 2. Collect fifteen wild flowers. - 3. Identify fifteen trees. - 4. Collect and identify five kinds of rocks. - 5. Know ten birds. - 6. Handle a rowboat and name ten parts of a boat. - 7. Swim 100 yards. - 8. Make a permanent woodcraft exhibit, or build some camp improvement. - 9. Build a good cooking fire and cook potatoes, rice pudding, twist - biscuit, and broiled meat. - 10. Play on an athletic team in an inter-camp contest. - 11. Take a part in a camp show. - 12. Act as a tent aide for one day. - 13. Show at all times the finest spirit as an all-round Lenape camper. - -Dirk whistled as his eye ran down the list. No wonder Brick and Lefty -and the others wore their green L badges with pride! And now, in the few -days remaining before the canoes cut the water on the first leg of the -journey to Kinnecut, he must do all these things, or stay behind. But, -although he had never in all his life faced such a task as this, he did -not admit even to himself that he might fail. - -He buttoned the card carefully in his breast pocket. Then, with a new -light in his eyes, he ran down the steep path toward the lake shore. Mr. -Wally Rawn, on duty at the dock before morning swim period, was startled -by the tall figure of a boy who clutched his arm, and gasped -breathlessly: "Wally, sir! Do you think you could teach me to swim a -hundred yards today? I want to learn to swim, and I want to learn now!" - -By nightfall, Dirk had not learned all that there is to know about -swimming, but Wally's first lesson had given some confidence in handling -himself in the water, as well as a hope that diligent practice should -enable him to swim the required number of yards at no distant date. -Moreover, the boy's lips tilted in a satisfied smile as he glanced at -the spaces on the requirement card in his hand. Three items were already -initialed. Wally Rawn had found time to teach him the rudiments of -managing a rowboat. Lefty Reardon, a bit doubtful of this sudden -interest in campcraft by the new boy but unaware of its cause, had been -persuaded to coach him upon trees and rocks, and Van Horn's collection -and identification were vouched for by the initials of Mr. Jim Avery. - -"Only ten more to go!" Dirk breathed to himself. "I'll get somebody to -show me the stars tonight, and in the morning----" He caught his breath. -"Why, how could I forget? Tomorrow is the day of the big game with -Shawnee!" - -In the morning Sax McNulty looked over at him curiously. - -"What's come over you, young lad?" the leader asked. "I didn't know you -loved to chase flies so much that you're bubbling with boyish glee." - -"I love to chase flies, Sax." - -"But not that much. There's something else. I never saw anybody in such -a burning hurry to have an honor emblem pinned on his shirt. I'm -suspicious." - -"I can't tell you now, Sax. But will you help me?" - -McNulty snorted. "Do you have to ask? Now, hop into your bathrobes, you -birds--What will become of Camp Shawnee if you sleep all day?" - -"Shawnee" was the word that rose oftenest in the babel at the breakfast -table. All the boys were in hiking clothes, ready for the ten-mile trail -that fringed the mountains running north. Within a few minutes after the -meal was over, Dirk had seen disappear into the woods all his tent-mates -with the exception of Lefty and Brick, who, with the rest of the Lenape -nine, were to ride to Shawnee and thus keep fresh for the big contest of -the afternoon. - -Dirk fingered his glove nervously, and wondered what sort of ball field -the Shawnee campus would provide. Somebody slapped him on the back. It -was Spaghetti Megaro, second baseman, and a gay light shone in the -Italian boy's eyes. - -"You're worried, huh? Well, forget it! If we don't win, we lose. But I -think we win! Come, the truck is loaded--pile on and hang tight. If you -can ride this flivver, the bucking broncho is nothing!" - -"Sure, Spaghett." Dirk joined the crowding band that jostled each other -laughingly as they sought places in the body of the camp truck. Stirring -up a cyclone of dust, the car left Lenape deserted, and rattled off up -the rutted lane. Dirk Van Horn, clinging to the dashboard with both -hands, stared into the distance. - -"I think we win!" he repeated softly. "And I--I must do a good job, the -Chief said. Well, in just a few hours I'll have my chance!" - - - - - CHAPTER XI - THE CAPTAIN - - -It was the end of the fourth inning, and Camp Shawnee had players on -second and third with two out. The eager boys were on their toes, taking -long leads and praying that Widelle, at bat, would bring them in with -one of his famous sky-high clouts. - -Lefty wound up and delivered a whistling curve that landed in Gil -Shelton's mitt with a satisfying smack. - -"Strike two!" called Judge Kinney of Elmville, umpire for the day. The -boys of Camp Lenape, grouped along the sidelines of the Shawnee diamond, -raised a cheer of praise for their pitcher's prowess. - -Widelle, who wore on his jersey the red arrow-head insignia of Lenape's -rival camp, shifted his bat slightly and set himself, ready for what -might prove the final toss of the inning. - -"You got him measured for a homer!" Captain Hook Bollard was encouraging -his team-mate with loud yells. "Take it on the nose!" He, as well as the -two hundred other spectators, invader and defender alike, held his -breath as Lefty uncorked a fast one. More than one person in the stands -didn't see that ball coming. But Widelle saw it; moreover, he connected. - -"Zowie!" shrieked Bollard. "Go it, Widdy! A love-ly skyscraper!" - -It was a perfect hit; a bit too lofty for security, but nevertheless -pretty. Two hundred pairs of eyes watched the horsehide sphere climb -over left field, then drop with increasing speed toward the earth. -Widelle was nearing first, and already had his eye on second. The man on -third was trotting confidently toward the home plate. But no one saw -them. Lenape and Shawnee eyes were fastened on that descending ball; and -now they were aware of a lithe figure in a tailored baseball suit, -streaking backwards with head tilted to avoid the afternoon sun. Back, -back the figure raced; a sudden daring leap, a slap as leather hit -leather. - -"He dropped it!" howled Bollard. The Lenape ranks groaned as the fielder -fell sprawling; but the groan changed to unbelieving cries as they saw -that one arm was still raised aloft, and a hand still clutched the fatal -sphere! The fielder was on his feet again, slamming a long, easy toss to -Brick Ryan at first. Brick touched the bag, and the Lenape team trooped -in to take their turn at bat. - -"That was Van Horn! Boy, what a catch!" - -"Yay, Van! Pretty stuff, old kid!" - -Dirk trotted toward the bench, and the cheers of his fellow campers -grew. He tried to put on a modest, matter-of-fact look, but he could not -hold back a confident grin. The Chief was there; he must have seen that -catch, and the least he could do would be to sign his card for -inter-camp athletics. Now, he would come to bat this inning, and then -he'd show these kids some real prep-school league hitting---- - -He felt his arm seized roughly, and a voice, low yet angry, rasped in -his ear. - -"Say, Van Horn, there's eight other guys on this team!" - -Dirk wheeled. It was Lefty Reardon who spoke, and his face was ominous. - -"Why, what do you mean by that?" Dirk asked. - -"You know what I mean! With the score three to one against us, why do -you have to go playing tiddley-winks to the grandstand? Another pass -like that, and you'll be holding down the job of water-boy for this -team!" - -"What was the matter with that play?" grumbled Van Horn sulkily. "They -went out, didn't they?" - -"What was the matter? Everything! These kids here in the cheering -section thought you were a regular daredevil, but I know better! Try -that stunt again and you'll get a rain-check instead of a bouquet. Talk -about playing to the gallery! That was an easy catch--but you had to -make it look like hero stuff. And taking all those chances, falling down -and so on, just to look like the bozo that saved the day! Well, Terry -Tompkins ain't got a swelled head, and if you don't button up quick, -you'll be benching for the rest of the season. And I'm saying it!" - -He turned away, leaving Dirk with a flaming face. Suppose he had made -that catch seem a bit harder--what was the harm? He really had stumbled, -but there had been no danger of dropping the ball. What right had -Reardon to call him a swell-head, just because----? But secretly, Dirk -knew that Lefty had spoken justly. - -With burning cheeks, he watched Soapy Mullins fan out. Brick Ryan, after -tipping two fouls, was allowed to walk. Ken Haviland stalled, taking two -strikes while Brick stole second, and outguessed on a fast inshoot, -dropped his bat as the umpire called him out. - -"Wake up, you fielder!" Lefty was calling. Dirk realized that he was -next. - -A little chill chased itself up his spine as he grabbed his own bat and -hurried to the plate. But as he stepped up and faced Bollard's wind-up, -all his nervousness left him. He'd show these kids--and Lefty Reardon in -particular--that he could save their old ball-game yet. He knew he was -good. He knew he was going to hit. - -"Ball one!" - -He hadn't moved. Bollard was worried, and he kept a wary eye on Brick, -who was fully prepared to steal to third at an instant's notice. The -Lenape boys set up a roar. - -"He'll walk you, Van! Let him do it!" advised Captain Reardon. - -Dirk's face did not show that he had heard. He was out after a hit. He -let the next one go by, and waited for a good one. It came. - -Sock! He had placed it just right, a red-hot cannonball that went -through shortstop like a rocket. Dirk's cleats spurned the dusty track -that led to first base. - -Behind him rose the shrieks of Lenape and Shawnee. Among them he thought -he heard the voice of Lefty Reardon, but he gave it not a thought. That -swat was good for a two-bagger or nothing. He tapped first with his toe, -and streaked for second. The shouts grew louder, but there was nobody in -his path. Evidently the fielder was still tangled up in his own feet. -Maybe a three-bagger----? Dirk leaped on second base, shook the sweat -out of his eyes, and looked ahead. - -There was a knot of players at third, and one of them must have the -ball. Another was on the ground---- Why, it was Brick Ryan! Dirk had -forgotten all about Brick; but there he was, with one arm stretched out, -just touching the bag. Another boy, a Shawnee baseman, was crouched at -his side, while above them stood a man who, as Dirk watched, shouted -"Safe!" It was the field umpire. - -Remorse showered on Dirk like a torrent. Brick had made it, but only -because he was a top-notch player; while he, Dirk, had been to blame for -the worst fool stunt in his baseball career. He could feel Lefty -Reardon's despairing eye on him, and could imagine what the captain was -thinking. "Grandstand stuff again!" Van Horn, thinking only of himself -and his own glory, had made a two-bagger, but had forced Ryan into a -tight fix at third; it was only a matter of an instant's decision that -had saved the Lenape team from missing their big chance to score. - -For half a minute, Dirk was rattled. The knot at third base broke up; -the boys resumed their places, and Brick, grinning, rose and dusted his -trousers while keeping an eye on Bollard, who strolled back into the -box. The Shawnee team was now on the defensive; the pitcher had two men -to watch, and Megaro was up--Megaro, the heaviest slugger on the Lenape -side. - -"I won't quit!" Dirk swore under his breath. "It was a fool trick--but -I've got to play it through!" He took his eyes from Reardon, at the -bench, and watched the pitcher. Bollard put across two wild throws, and -Megaro tipped a foul. Dirk took a wary lead, and Brick Ryan did the -same. - -A roar from two hundred throats sounded from the watching crowd. Crack! -When the dust lifted, Megaro was safe at first; Brick Ryan was clear of -home plate and Dirk Van Horn stretched over that same plate with the -umpire's cry in his ears: "Safe by a mile!" He had slid for the tying -run almost on Ryan's heels. - -But there was no joy for Dirk in the rousing applause of the watchers. -From the tail of his eye, he saw Lefty approaching, and knew what was -coming. - -"All right, Captain," he said humbly; "you can take me out now." - -Brick Ryan put in a word. "Let him alone, Lefty! You know those things -happen." - -"Never mind, Brick," snapped Reardon. "It was only luck you got out of -it, and I already warned him. He's done. Tompkins will play left field -for the rest of this game." - -"Aw, don't you see he cleared himself? We made two runs, and that ought -to make you happier, Lefty. Gollies sakes, it's all in a ball game----" - -"Thanks, Ryan, old chap--you're white about it, but Lefty's right," -admitted Dirk. "I forced you, just to show off. Maybe some day," he -ended miserably, "I'll learn how to play on a team." - -Many a curious glance followed him as he pushed through the admiring -bunch of Lenape boys who clustered on the sidelines; but Ollie Steffins -was at bat, and the invading campers, thirsting for more rapid-action -runs, did not notice him as he headed behind the tent-houses that ringed -the Shawnee diamond. He passed the lodge overlooking the brown waters of -Iron Lake, and started down the road by which the hikers had marched -that morning into the rival encampment. There were still two innings to -play, but Dirk Van Horn did not want to see the end of that game. Camp -Lenape was ten miles away, and he must hike. He went on his way; and as -he went, he thought.... - -That night there was jubilation in Camp Lenape. Hated Shawnee had been -taught a lesson on the diamond, by the slender margin of one run made in -the last inning by Blackie Thorne. There were comments at the supper -table, however, upon the sportsmanship and hospitality of the defeated -camp, who had taken their defeat in good nature, and in parting had -promised vengeance at the next inter-camp tilt. Tired hikers ate like -wolves, assuring each other between mouthfuls that it had been a swell -day. - -Dishes had to be washed. At Tent One table, Lefty and Eddie Scolter were -due for this detail. The latter, however, could hardly keep his eyes -open--the long hike, the swim in Iron Lake, and the excitements of the -day's visit at Shawnee had been almost too much for the small lad. He -nodded gratefully when Dirk Van Horn offered to take his place. Sax -McNulty raised his eyebrows at this generosity, but made no remark. - -Lefty busied himself with a broom and piled the dishes while Dirk mixed -up suds in the pan. It was Lefty who spoke first. - -"I got a bit heated up this afternoon," he confessed casually. "Hope you -didn't take me too seriously, Van. Sometimes, when a guy is captain of a -team, he has to say things and do things he doesn't like." - -Dirk nodded. - -"I'm sorry if you're sore about it," the aide went on. "Brick Ryan was -taking your part, on the way home, and darned if he didn't convince me -that I was wrong in bawling you out the way I did." - -"I am sore," admitted Dirk; "but at myself, not at you. You were quite -right to kick me out. It's--it's not easy to say it, but I'm pretty much -of a swell-head any way you put it. Will you do me a favor, Reardon?" - -"Sure." - -"Well, next time you see me getting ready to do any more stunts like -that, will you oblige me by a swift kick in the seat of my pants?" - -Lefty laughed. "I will! Now, I want to ask you something. You want to go -on the Long Trail, don't you?" - -The blond boy stared and almost dropped a dish on the floor. "How did -you know?" - -"Oh, I can see! But the Long Trail is a pretty stiff proposition. What -makes you think you can tackle it?" - -"It's just a crazy hope. But the Chief said there was a slim chance, and -I want to go more than I ever wanted to do anything." - -"You're right--it's worth working for, I'll say! So now you've given up -bunk-stretching and are going full speed ahead on your emblem and -winning ball-games and thinking of the other fellow first---- Well, I'm -here to say I'll help you all I can, and any other older camper will do -the same! Now, what things do you still have to do to get your emblem?" - - - - - CHAPTER XII - THE MYSTERIOUS WATCHER - - -Dirk pushed back his unruly hair, pulled a sheet of paper from the -roller of his portable typewriter, and read what he had just written. - - "Camp Lenape, Thursday. - - "Dear Dad: - - "I am writing this to you especially because I want to thank you for - sending me up here to Camp Lenape. I must admit that at first I didn't - seem to get over so well with the fellows, but that was all my own - fault, and now that everything is going fine, I can see why you wanted - me to spend my summer with such a swell bunch of campers and leaders. - My, the Chief must have been a great man to be friends with when you - were in college together! He has certainly been nice to me. - - "It would take a whole book to tell you all the things that have - happened to me since you and Mama left. We played baseball with a camp - named Shawnee, and beat them. I was fielding for a while, but got - kicked out of the game in the middle because of a fool stunt, so I - didn't help the team any. You met the captain--Lefty Reardon, a - splendid pitcher that I wish we had on our prep-school squad. He's - just one of the chaps in my tent--all of them are awfully lively and - full of fun. I had a fight with a kid named Brick Ryan, but now we're - good friends. He's a red-headed kid in our tent. Mr. McNulty, our - leader, looks gloomy all the time but that is just his way, and the - things he says would make you die laughing. He plays the sax, so they - all call him Sax. He's our councilor. - - "I'll bet you would be surprised if you knew all the things I learned - about stars and flowers and boats and things. One of the kids tried to - fool me and say that one tree was a castor oil tree that the castor - oil came from, but I guess I'm not so green as to believe that, - though. I'm learning to swim some, and Brick Ryan is showing me about - diving into the water head first. He's got what they call a Lenape - honor emblem, which you can get for your jersey if you know a lot of - camp things. - - "We have to work hard here to keep the tent clean and get merit points - to win a pennant every day to show which is the best tent. The first - day I didn't clean up enough and we got the 'booby can' that we had to - hang up with 'booby' written on it. Each of us has to be waiter and - wash dishes, but that's fun too, like seeing if you can get 'seconds' - on meat and potatoes when you're the waiter. Tell Mama not to bother - sending up all that candy and cake and stuff I asked for, because - Wally Rawn, the swimming coach, says it's bad to eat a lot of junk - between meals all the time. I have to be in training now, because I - want to learn to swim good. - - "Now for the big news. The Chief told me that if I got my honor emblem - all done and know everything by Sunday night, he will ask Mr. Carrigan - to take me on the Long Trail. The Long Trail is a swell trip up the - river and a hike through the woods and up a mountain, and I want to go - if I can, so if the Chief will let me, say you won't mind! I guess - it's quite exciting, because everybody wants to go, but only six can - go every year, and if I go that will be seven. One of the fellows that - is going is Brick Ryan. Reardon went last year, and he says you can - catch bass fish and you take along a flag and nail it to a tree on top - of the mountain. 'Sax' went once and a bear chased his canoe-mate, but - don't tell Mama that part or she will worry. But Mr. Carrigan is quite - a woodsman and knows all about nature and things, although to look at - him you wouldn't think so, because he looks sort of funny and has a - big nose. He knows all about bears. I can take along the canoe you - gave me, the _Sachem_. The other fellows are Steve Link and a fellow - we call 'Spaghetti' because his name is Megaro and he's Italian, and - Wild Willie Sanders and Ugly Brown and a fellow named Cowboy Platt who - comes from Arizona where the cowboys come from. Ugly Brown is smaller - than I am, but he knows a lot about the woods. Before we go we have to - pass a physical examination but I never felt better in my life because - I'm in training. - - "Today I am being the tent aide. That is a rather important job, as - you see it means you have to be a sort of assistant to the leader and - keep all the fellows on their toes doing the right things, and yet do - it without being bossy or mean. Lefty is the regular aide, but he let - me do it to try for one part of my honor emblem. I still have lots of - tests to pass for it yet. 'Gollies,' as my friend Brick Ryan would - say, I sure hope that I don't miss out and can't finish it all by - Sunday, for then I wouldn't dare ask the Chief to let me go on the - Long Trail. - - "Well, I must get busy now and do some more things, but don't forget - that I'm to go to Mt. Kinnecut with the long trailers, and that if the - Chief gives his permission, you will too. You can explain things to - Mama, but don't mention the bears. - - "Your affectionate son, - "Dirk van Horn." - -The writer surveyed this composition thoughtfully, scratched his ear, -and replacing the page in the machine, added a brief paragraph. - - "P.S. Tell Mama not to worry about getting my feet wet. I haven't - taken any of those pills for several days, but I thought it over and I - think that anybody that feels as good as I do doesn't need any pills. - I'm getting nice and tan like a sailor." - -Slipping his letter into an envelope addressed to "Mr. John T. Van Horn, -President, Commerce National Bank," Dirk stuck on a stamp and his -missive was ready for the mail. He had just stepped outside the tent -when he caught sight of Brick Ryan, lugging a sack on his shoulders and -making his way down the hillside at a fast pace. - -"Hi, Brick!" Dirk hailed him. "Say, wait for a chap! Is that the -mail-bag you have?" - -Brick halted and nodded. "Long Jim gave me the chance to take it down to -Heaven for him today. He's busy at the store." - -"Well, here's a letter I want to go in, special." He caught up to his -red-headed tent-mate and slipped his letter into the top of the canvas -sack. Brick grunted. - -"Everybody must be writing to their mamas and sweethearts today, all -right. Gollies, what a hefty load! Say, Van, do you want to go along and -help row the boat? Give you some practice." - -"Could I?" Dirk became reflective. "I'm supposed to be acting as aide -today, but maybe I can go. I sure would like to help. I tell you--you go -on down, and if I can get away, I'll be down to the dock in a jiffy." - -They parted, and Dirk raced to the lodge, where he found his councilor -practicing with the camp orchestra in preparation for a vaudeville show -that was on the program for the following night. Securing his ready -permission to assist the mail-carrier of the day, Dirk cut through the -trees below the tents and reached the dock almost as soon as the -burdened Brick arrived. - -Selecting a steel-bottomed rowboat from among those moored in the lee of -the diving tower, the two boys pushed off on the waters of Lake Lenape. -Dirk, amidships, took the unwieldy oars and with unskilled motions began -sculling in the direction of the north end of the lake, where a landing -jutted from the weedy shore, beyond which faintly showed the roof of -Heaven House, the little cottage that was used for the accommodation of -parents and guests who visited the mountain camp. - -They had gone only a few hundred yards when Brick, lounging easily on -the stern-sheets with the mail sack between his knees, made an offer. - -"Say, my lad, how would you like to see some baby kingfishers?" - -"Fine!" answered Van Horn. "Where are they?" - -"Well, cut over a few points toward the shore, and we'll just stop in up -the creek a ways. They have their nest in a hollow stump. We've got -plenty of time to take a look, if we hurry." - -Dirk pulled on his oars with renewed vigor, and the boat headed toward -the reed-masked inlet of the marshy creek that cut into the camp side of -the lake. He was already getting the knack of handling the little craft -with greater ease, so that they slipped softly under an overhanging -maple branch and entered the weed-bordered reach of water without a -splash. - -"That's right!" whispered Brick. "Keep quiet, or you'll scare 'em. Say! -Who's that guy?" He pointed. - -Dirk clumsily shipped his oars, and at the sound a man on a little -hillock above them wheeled sharply and stared, at the same time whipping -one hand behind his back. The keel of the boat grated on the shore, -barely missing a slender bamboo fishing rod that lay there neglected. - -The man ran toward them. - -"Sorry, sir!" cried Dirk cheerily. "We seem to have spoiled your fishing -for you." - -The stranger did not return his smile. He stared for a second, then -queerly enough, exclaimed: "Why, if it ain't young Van Horn!" - -For a space there was silence, except for the resounding thuds of axes -on wood and the far shouts of boys toward the head of the creek where, -Dirk recalled, a woodcraft squad was building a bridge of birch-trunks. -He surveyed the unknown fisherman. The man was short and slender; and -his dress was poorly adapted to the waterside, for he wore a suit of -creased and dusty serge, and thin-soled, pointed low shoes. A cloth cap -was pulled down over his pale face, almost hiding a pair of the -steeliest blue eyes Dirk had ever seen, that stared at him coldly all -the while as the man stood, hands behind back, biting his lip as if he -would have cut short his surprising cry of recognition. - -Brick Ryan had all this time spoken no word. Finally Dirk broke the -uncomfortable silence. - -"How did you know my name?" - -The man hesitated. "Why--I guess everybody knows by sight a famous kid -like you. I thought I was right. Your old man's the banker, ain't he? -Say," he went on more easily, "how would you and your smart-lookin' -partner there like to take a little joy-ride around the country with me -for half an hour or so? I got a little car over by the road, and you can -drive a ways if you want to." - -Such an offer a few days previously might well have tempted Dirk's -adventurous instincts; but he remembered that he and Brick were charged -with a mission to perform. - -"That's nice of you, especially since we upset your fishing here," he -returned; "but Brick and I have to take care of the mail. Besides, we -don't leave the camp without permission." - -"Yeah, let's beat it," put in Brick, shoving the oars into the rowlocks. - -Dirk nodded, and began backing water. The man made a quick step toward -them, and his right arm jerked impulsively; but he made no effort to -detain them. He stood gazing at them with his cold blue eyes until they -vanished again beyond the leafy screen that hid the entrance to the -creek. - -Once more heading across the lake toward Heaven House, all thoughts of -kingfishers' nests forgotten, Brick spoke reflectively. - -"There's something funny about that bird," he began. "Ever seen him -before, Van?" - -"Why, not that I remember. Funny he knew my name. I guess we spoiled his -fishing--too bad." - -Brick snorted. "Haven't you got eyes? He's no fisherman--not in that -outfit. His rod didn't even have bait on the line, and besides, any sap -would know that there's no fish in that part of the creek." - -"Well, then, what was he doing?" - -"He was spyin', that's what!" the red-haired boy exploded. "Spyin' on -the camp, or I'm a monkey's uncle! I guess you didn't notice when we -first saw him, but he was standin' there on the hill, lookin' through -the trees with a pair of field glasses, straight at the lodge! He's -after no good, if you ask me!" - -"Why, Brick, are you sure?" - -"Sure, I'm sure! What I want to know is, what's his game? 'Let me take -you for a joy-ride,' he says. Huh!" Brick spat into the rippling wake of -the boat. - -Dirk pulled thoughtfully at the oars. They were now nearing the wharf -that was their goal. - -"It's puzzling, all right. But I still think you're too suspicious, -Brick." Nevertheless, he was not altogether sure that Ryan's distrust -was wholly without grounds, and he could not rid himself of the feeling -that he had somewhere before seen that pale grim face and frosty eyes. - -The two boys tied their craft at the end of the jutting wharf, hauled -the mail-sack ashore, and between them carried it up the path to Heaven -House. The little cottage was empty at that time, but the flower garden -in front was carefully weeded and tended. As they reached the gate, a -cloud of dust bearing up the Elmville road told them that they had -delivered their burden with little time to spare. - -The rattling flivver that served the rural route drew up before them -with a screeching of brakes, and Lem Shuttle, the driver, took off his -straw hat and wiped his bald head. - -"That there the camp mail, boys?" he asked. "Hot today, bean't it? Got a -mighty heap of letters for ye to take back, and a couple parcels." - -Brick heaved the sack into the rear seat of the rattletrap car. "Say, -Lem," he said, "we just saw a strange guy fishin' down by the creek. -Know who he is? Wearin' a blue suit, and doesn't know much about how to -catch fish." - -Lem scratched one ear. "Heard tell of him as I come along. Peaked kind -of little feller, eh? Yep, he drove up to the Petties last night in a -blue sedan, and they took him in to board. Give his name as Brown or -McGillicuddy or Harkins or some such. Claimed he wanted to do a bit of -fishin'." - -"Well, he was tryin' to catch 'em without any bait on his hook. Down by -the creek, too." - -The mail-carrier chuckled. "Don't surprise me a mite, now! Them city -folk is all of 'em crazy as coots! Most of 'em don't know oxen from -buttercups! Wal, got to be goin'." He tossed out the sack of incoming -mail, released the brakes, and stepped on the gas. "Giddap, Napoleon!" - -The boys watched him as he careened off down the dusty road. Brick Ryan -nodded reflectively. - -"H'mm! He wants to catch some fish, so he takes along a pair of field -glasses to see 'em with! Stayin' up at the Pettie house. Well, Van, old -oyster, I'll bet you this won't be the last time we see Mr. Nosey -Fisherman, or my name's not F. X. A. Ryan!" - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - ON THE MARCH - - -The mysterious fisherman, none the less, was pushed out of Dirk's mind -by the crowded hours of the camp routine. There were still half a dozen -blank spaces on the emblem card that pointed his way to the Long Trail; -and as the end of the week drew near, he was in a fever of excitement, -wondering if ever he would complete all the needful tests in time. - -His day of service as aide to Tent One was finished without mishap; and -late the same afternoon he managed, after scorching a pan of rice and -burning his fingers, to produce an edible meal cooked over an open fire -built by himself. On Friday morning he rose before Reveille and in -company with Long Jim Avery and Nig Jackson penetrated silently into the -dewy woods, noting the plumage and song of many birds that Long Jim -pointed out to the interested boys. At the performance that evening of -the Lenape Vode-Villians on the improvised stage in the lodge, he won -applause with a short act entitled "A Wee Drop of Scotch." In golf sox, -a kilt made of a plaid blanket, and a tam-o'-shanter, he sang several -songs of Scotland and cracked all the jokes he knew about the canny -race, marking his points with a crooked and knobbed cane cut from one of -Farmer Podgett's apple trees. - -One by one the blank spaces on the card were filled in by the initials -of some councilor. On Saturday afternoon Dirk, after helping Jim Avery -after lunch at the store, raced to the boat dock and took his final -swimming test, diving into the water head-first as Brick Ryan had taught -him, and rounding a life-boat stationed fifty yards out, in all handling -himself so neatly that he won a nod from Wally Rawn and a promise to be -allowed to help keep the score in the inter-tent Boat Regatta that -afternoon. - -Dirk arose at dawn on Sunday morning, when around him all the camp was -asleep. He shivered as he looked into the misty drizzle that fell among -the pines; but screwing up his resolution, threw off the warm blankets -and slipped into his heavier clothing and high laced boots. His -woodcraft exhibit, a rustic birchwood bench circling the wild-cherry -tree beyond the lodge, was still uncompleted; and his skill at axmanship -was far from great. He sighed as he shouldered his hand ax and went -through the dripping woods to a grove of birches beyond the Council -Ring; but the work warmed him in short order, and he was soon whistling -as he trimmed the smooth white saplings and split them for his purpose. - -It still lacked half an hour to Reveille--which always came later on -Sundays--when Dirk stepped back from his work at the base of the cherry -tree, and surveyed his progress. The little bench needed only a few more -slats in the seat to be completed and ready for the use of all campers; -the braces were as steady as Dirk could make them, each sunk some inches -into the ground and set with wedged rocks. The boy stood sucking his -thumb, which had received a blow of his ax-head instead of the nail at -which he had aimed; and thus he was unaware that the Chief had -approached in his silent fashion and was at his elbow. - -The Chief's face was as unreadable as ever as he nodded in answer to -Dirk's "Good morning!" merely striding to the bench and testing it with -his weight. Sitting there, he gazed at the eager lad and smiled gravely. - -"A good bench," he said, and paused. Then: - -"Dirk, you've been working mighty hard on your emblem, haven't you?" - -"I only have two more things to finish, sir." - -"H'mm. Dirk, what would you say if I told you that, even if you finished -these two things, you couldn't go on the Long Trail this year?" - -The boy's face went white, and he gulped. - -"I--I'd say you know best about that sir," but his lip trembled with -disappointment. - -The Chief, who had been watching him closely, laughed--rather cruelly, -as Dirk thought. - -"Let me see your emblem card." He took it from Dirk's hand, and pointed -to the thirteenth item. "It says here that any boy winning the Lenape -honor emblem must show at all times the finest spirit as an all-round -camper. Well, any boy who can answer me as you have just done----Look -there!" - -He pointed behind the lodge, where a large hay-wagon pulled by two -horses came into sight, sweeping toward the road leading up the -mountain. Upon it were securely lashed three canoes--and on top, -gleaming red, was the _Sachem_. The _Sachem_! - -The Chief was scrawling his initials on the two empty spaces of the -card. Dirk let out a whoop like an Iroquois on the warpath. - -"I'm going, Chief!" he cried. "You mean it! I'm going on the Long -Trail!" - -"It looks that way. Last night I got an answer from my telegram to your -father. He's given his permission for you to join Sagamore Carrigan's -trailers. You still have much to learn, Dirk, but with this new spirit -of yours, I think you'll win out!" He clasped hands with the dancing -boy. - -At breakfast, Mr. Carrigan ordered that all Long Trailers report to him -immediately to have their outfits inspected, and to receive -instructions. Within fifteen minutes Dirk and Brick Ryan had carried -several armloads of belongings up to the lodge porch and stacked them -alongside of the kits of their five comrades who had been chosen to bear -the Lenape flag. Cowboy Platt, lounging at the rail, opened his eyes -wide as he took in the heap of things that Dirk had thought necessary to -bring. - -"You shore must be goin' to take a pack-hoss along to tote all that," he -remarked in his sleepy drawl. "Wait till old Wise-Tongue sees that pile, -pardner!" - -Sure enough, when Mr. Carrigan arrived a few minutes later, his first -words were on the necessity of "travelling light." - -"We're going Indian fashion," he began, "and since each one of you will -have to carry all your outfit on your back, we must take only the things -that we cannot do without. Now, Dirk, suppose that when we come to the -first portage, you have to pack all those clothes and shoes and that big -flash-lantern, as well as your blankets and your end of the canoe! Let's -see what you can do without." - -The councilor began laying aside only those belongings that would be -needed on the trip. When he had finished, Dirk found his kit reduced to -a sturdy hiking outfit of khaki shirt and breeches, puttees, and high -shoes, a change of underclothing, a warm sweater, and four pairs of -socks. In addition, he had for canoe-work a pair of shorts and light -shoepacks. Since two boys would sleep together, one large warm blanket -and rubber poncho apiece was adjudged sufficient, even though the -mountain nights would be cool. - -"I'm glad to see you have a pocket compass and a good knife," concluded -Sagamore Carrigan. "I'll take my large woodsman's ax, and Sanders will -take his hand ax--that should be enough for the whole party. Cowboy -Platt here has offered to do all the cooking, if we take turns at K.P. -I've drawn from the kitchen only the grub that we can't get along the -way, and we'll save it for 'iron rations' in the back-country. Ellick -also gave me some pots and pans, but each trailer will have to take his -own cup and plate and fork. Before we leave tomorrow, I'll have another -inspection and try to see that we don't forget anything we need. Have -your blanket-rolls ready immediately after breakfast. Any questions -about outfits?" - -Spaghetti Megaro and young Brown had need of the councilor's advice -about selecting certain of their garments. After he had given it, he -unrolled a large map and tacked it to the pine shingles of the lodge -wall, where all could see. - -"I want you trailers to get every line of this map into your minds," he -urged. "Learn it so you could draw it blindfolded. It will be riding in -my pocket for the whole trip, and whenever any of you has a minute to -spare, study it. You can see that I've lined in the Long Trail in red -ink." - -Dirk breathed faster as his eyes followed Sagamore Wise-Tongue's -pointing finger. - -"Here's Lenape, and way off here in the corner is old Mount Kinnecut, -where nine green-and-white pennants are flying. That's where we've got -to go, and we'll make it in three days, if all goes well. The first -day's run--tomorrow--will be an easy stage, just to get in trim and -harden up. And see that your feet are in good shape, for that's what -you'll have to travel on most of the way. We'll stop at Pot-Hole Glen at -noon, and make the river before dark. The canoes left on a wagon this -morning, and we'll find them at Skinner's Ferry when we get there. Now, -I'll leave this map posted here for the rest of the day, so that you can -get its details clear in mind before we leave. Anything else?" - -"Yes, I got one!" put in Ugly Brown. "Who's going to carry the flag?" - -Sagamore Wise-Tongue smiled, and drew from his blouse a triangular bit -of green bunting on which was stitched a large L in white. "The trailer -who carries this," he said, "will have to be watchful and cunning, for -he will bear with him the honor of all of us, and the honor of Lenape. -I'll leave it to you to choose which trailer it shall be." - -Before anyone else could speak, Dirk cried out: "Brick Ryan! He's the -best of us! Let it be Brick, sir!" - -"Sure," agreed Megaro, "I bet you my life Brick is the one. I vote for -him too." - -The others added their votes with shouts of approval; even Ugly Brown, -who secretly had hoped to be the standard-bearer, swallowed his -disappointment, and taking the banner, presented it to Ryan, whose face -grew almost as red as his flaming hair. - -"I'll take it," he muttered with some feeling; then, looking the leader -straight in the eye, added: "You can bet nobody is goin' to get this -away from me, Wise-Tongue. It's not goin' to leave me until we nail it -to the flagpole on the big mountain over beyond!" - -With a cheer, the little council of war broke up. Brick stowed the -pennant inside his shirt. - -"Thanks, kid," he mumbled. "That was swell of you to say that about me." - -"I meant it, Brick! Say, will you show me how to make a blanket-roll?" - -The day passed swiftly for Dirk, eager as he was for the morning that -would mark the beginning of the Long Trail hike. He was kept busy -getting his outfit into shape and seeing that everything was in order; -but he found time now and again to study the map posted on the wall. The -names on it gave him a thrill that he could not have explained--Flint -Island, Lake Moosehorn, the Chain of Ponds, even the few scattered towns -that lay among the folds of the hills that skirted Mount Kinnecut. He -was a Long Trailer now! - -When dusk fell, and the whippoorwills could be heard trilling in the -thickets, the Lenape tribe draped their blankets about them and trooped -to council. There was no happier or prouder member of that tribe than -Dirk Van Horn when, at the time for awards and coups, he rose and was -given his honor emblem before the throne of the Chief. It seemed -impossible that little more than a week had passed since he had first -landed on the Lenape campus. So many wonderful things had happened that -he felt a different person from the--as he thought, looking -back--pitifully ignorant tenderfoot who had tried to buy Brick Ryan's -friendship with an expensive gift. He had that friendship now, but he -had won it as a man should. - -He drifted off to sleep clutching his new honor, and when he awoke at -dawn, rose and sewed it carefully on the front of the sweater that he -would wear on the trail. Brick Ryan was astir too, dressing in his worn -hiking clothes and rolling his blankets into a neat pack to be strapped -over his shoulders. He winked over at Dirk and whispered: "The pennant -is still safe, by gollies! I pinned it to my pajama shirt with a big -blanket-pin!" - -The eight trailers were off up the mountainside before nine o'clock, -after a brief but thorough inspection by their leader. They travelled in -close marching order, for as Sagamore Wise-Tongue explained, they were -like a war-party and must not lose their strength through straggling or -getting out of touch with each other. It might be necessary, when they -were in wilder country, to put out scouts, but since the road to Indian -Glen was well known to them, they would take it in regular stages. - -Although Dirk's unaccustomed blanket-roll was heavy and grew heavier as -the morning wore on, his heart was light. He joined in the songs of the -gay trailers as they threaded their way through the trees on the slope -above camp, pausing as they reached the road at Fiddler's Elbow and -taking a last glance at the placid waters of the lake and the white -tents they were leaving behind. Dirk laughed aloud as he thought of all -the adventures he would have before he again caught sight of Camp -Lenape. But had he guessed that his life would be more than once in wild -danger on the path that lay before him, he might well have shivered -instead. - -Up and down, over one ridge after another of the Lenape range, the boys -took their way, resting now and then for a few moments in the shade -beside some bubbling mountain spring. Mr. Carrigan, in the lead, bearing -a first-aid kit and many other necessities in the knapsack over which -his blankets were strapped, strode along silently, ever on the alert for -some wilderness creature that he might point out to his eager followers. -Once he pointed out the marks of a fox, and several times their progress -stirred up a covey of stupid, drumming partridge. And in one breathless -instant, before they came to the end of the forest, he paused and -pointed through the trees. Dirk caught a glimpse of a swift-moving -dun-colored animal that with a flick of its stubby tail was off in long -easy leaps to the shelter of the far thickets--a young deer, the first -he had ever seen in its native haunts. - -He marched beside Brick and Ugly Brown, the young, snub-nosed lad whose -blunt, sun-burnt face was somewhat likable in its very ugliness. He -remembered that these two, with Kipper Dabney, had hazed him one -moonlight night--long ago, it seemed--but he made no mention to them of -that night when he had leaped, blindfolded, over Indian Cliff. - -"What's this Glen like that we're heading for, Ugly?" Dirk asked. - -"Ain't you ever been there? Say, it's a swell place. We hike over here -lots of times. Whillikers, I'm ready for a swim there right now, even if -the water feels as if it had just melted from snow. It's called Pot-Hole -Glen because down below, the water has run across the rocks so fast that -there are a bunch of deep, smooth holes worn down by pebbles whirlin' -around--right through solid rock. It used to be an old Indian camping -place, I've heard. We'll be there soon, right after we cut across the -fields over yonder." - -At that moment Mr. Carrigan turned off the dusty road and cut through a -meadow where a herd of white-faced cows grazed. Dirk climbed the rail -fence slowly, for he was hot and more than a little tired by the march; -but he joined in the whoops of his companions as they raced the short -distance that separated them from the goal of their noonday pause and -the swim that was to come. And thus Dirk Van Horn came to Pot-Hole Glen, -which he was never in his life to remember without a chill of horror -creeping up his spine--the horror of strangling death. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - THE WATCHER AGAIN - - -The little plateau above the Glen was a pleasant place enough--a smooth, -shadowy stretch of greensward marked here and there with the remains of -more than one Lenape campfire. Here the trailers paused only long enough -to cast off their blanket-packs, and then raced in a body for the steep, -twining path leading down the wall carved out in past ages by the -running stream at its foot. - -"Now for a swim!" was the cry as, helter-skelter, the boys scrambled -down the path that zigzagged through the underbrush. - -Dirk paused at the bottom of the cleft, and falling slightly behind the -others, searched for the pot-holes that Ugly Brown had described. There -they were--smooth shafts of varying widths, sunken into the rocky floor -over which the stream trickled softly. Taking a stick, Dirk probed one -of them, and found at the bottom a few water-worn stones whose action -had drilled, in the course of many decades, a deep hole in solid -granite. - -"The biggest hole of all is under the falls," Brick Ryan shouted from -below him. "Come on, my son--all the other guys are gettin' wet -already!" - -He disappeared from sight at a turn in the path leading down-stream, -from whence Dirk could hear the boisterous shouts of his comrades rising -above the splashing roar of falling water. None the less, he did not -hasten, for the wonders of the Glen were too many to be hastily passed -over. - -He walked slowly, gazing at the many-colored flowers and unknown trees -that arched the stream. Several hundred yards down, the path wound about -a steep drop over which the water boiled and bubbled--a miniature -Niagara. From his place, Dirk could look directly down into a seething -basin hollowed in the rock. Below this fell away the bed of the stream -in an incline of sheeted, mossy shale, upon which sprawled the naked -forms of the trailers. Wild Willie Sanders, with ear-splitting yells, -was coasting down the slide head first, and landed in the broad pool -below like a noisy otter. - -Spray from the falls sprinkled Dirk's face, and he hurried to strip off -his dusty garments and join in the fun. As he took his place on the -slide, the rills of water from the side of the falls were so icy that he -cried out. - -"Brr-r-r! Boy, talk about cold!" - -"Get warmed up swimming down here in the pool," advised Sagamore -Carrigan, who was floating about in the crystal water beneath the slide. -"Then you won't feel it!" - -Dirk watched Spaghetti Megaro, who was plunging a long pole into the -great pot-hole directly underneath the falls. The pole sank out of -sight, and shortly after shot into the air, to be caught by the Italian -lad. - -"That's plenty deep, you bet!" grinned Megaro. "They call this one the -Devil's Cauldron. Some shower-bath if you get in this tub! Once when I -was here, Wally Rawn got in and tried to dive down to bottom--but he -didn't find no bottom, not at all. He got out plenty quick." - -Dirk hastily removed himself from the brink of the treacherous-looking -hole, and joined the divers who plunged into the pebble-bottomed pool -below. The swim period was short, not only because the hikers were -hungry, but because the water was so chill that too long exposure might -be dangerous to health. After a brisk rub-down the trailers, glowing -with vim, donned their cast-off clothes and started for the plateau -above, where Cowboy Platt was already building a small cooking-fire for -the noonday meal. - -Lingering behind alone, Dirk dressed slowly, pausing now and then to -watch the flight of a bird, or to mark some strange formation of rock -along the walls of the Glen. At last he picked up his dripping towel and -started up the path to rejoin his friends. - -When he came once more to the bend directly above the falls, he paused -for a last look at the impressive sight. As he stared down at the racing -waters, a clump of star-shaped flowers on a tough-leafed bush caught his -eye. He had never seen such strange bright blossoms before, but Sagamore -Carrigan could tell him all about them. It struck him that it would be a -good thing to get some and take them with him to the others. - -Spreading his feet firmly on the slippery path, he reached down to -snatch the plant from its perch in a crevice in the rocky cliff. It was -too far. He knelt, and dropping one leg over to balance himself, made a -second attempt. Still the nodding flowers were a tantalizingly few -inches from the tips of his fingers. Tossing his head with annoyance, he -made a swift swoop. As his hand touched the fringe of the bush, he felt -the earth beneath his weight stir and slip. - -In sudden terror, he dropped the fragment of the bush and dug in the -toes of his heavy shoes, painfully trying to scramble back to safety. He -grunted with the effort; but inch by inch the treacherous loose dirt -gave way. A fearful glance over his shoulder, and he shut his eyes, -dizzied by the hissing rush of the leaping rapids beneath his kicking -legs. A rattle of stones; and then, with a despairing shriek, he plunged -backward into the foaming falls! - -The breath was knocked from his chest as he struck the seething surface -of the giant pot-hole--the Devil's Cauldron! Down, down he sank, -freezing water filling his nose and open mouth and shutting off all -chance of summoning help. The sunshine was far above him, seen dimly -through a glassy green froth, and the roar of the rattling falls was -drumming in his ears. - -Desperately he kicked his leaden feet and fought his way upward, the -blood hammering in his veins. One outstretched arm caught at the -slippery edge of the hole and clung fiercely. - -Upon his unsheltered head, battering drops fell like hailstones. - -He had barely time to suck in a mouthful of air when the force of the -spinning current tore his handhold loose, and again he dropped into the -Cauldron's depths. This time he felt weaker, chilled by the glacial -stream and beaten by its pounding force. It was dark now. Dimly he -wondered if they would ever find his body in that bottomless well.... - -An unseen hand was gripping him by the hair, hauling him upward toward -light and life. Again the bullets of water struck his face and throat, -but strong arms were about his shoulders. His chest scraped against the -jagged margin of the pool; like a sodden bag of meal, he was pulled out -of the clutch of that grim torrent. - -He gasped, spat, and rolled over on his back. Somewhere above him, a -bird was whistling. He opened one eye. Bending over him, with a serious -look on his freckled face, was Brick Ryan. - -"Are you alive, my lad? Gorries, say you're all right!" - -Dirk choked, and tried to sit up, but fell back weakly. - -"I--I'm safe! It was horrible, down there----" - -"Now, don't try to talk. Take it easy for a minute. There, that better? -Gee, you sure must have had a bad time of it! I was comin' along down -the creek to see what was keepin' you, and heard you yell." - -"I was--trying to get some of those flowers up there, and slipped." - -Above him, through his moist eyelashes, he saw the coveted blossoms -swaying slightly in the midday breeze. - -"Huh! Well, that's called rhododendron, and it's against the law to pick -it in this state! If you're feelin' better, I'll help you up to camp, -and we'll dry out your duds." - -Fearing that delay might bring severe consequences, Dirk crawled to his -feet, and shivering in his sodden garments, allowed himself to be led -up-stream, leaning heavily upon the lad who had pulled him from that -deadly bath. At the foot of the path leading to the camping place, he -turned and faced his friend. - -"Brick," he said soberly, "you've saved my life. I--I can't put it in -words, but if ever there's anything----" - -The red-haired boy grinned and patted his arm. "Forget it!" he muttered -gruffly. "You'd have done the same if it had been me." - -"But all the same----" - -"Come on, old son, before you freeze to death. Climb, my lad!" - -At the summit, the rest of the trailers were lying about on their packs, -and there was a brisk smell of wood-smoke and frying bacon in the air. -Mr. Carrigan leaped to his feet as he saw the two boys, and without -asking for any explanation, had Dirk's dripping garments stripped off in -short order, and after a rough rub-down he was stowed between a pair of -warm blankets and told to rest. - -Dirk had been living in the open for more than a week now, and long -before his wet clothes were dried before the fire, he felt none the -worse for the mishap that might so easily have taken his life. The -councilor brewed him a cup of warm, heartening soup that brought his -strength back quickly; and when an hour had passed he convinced the man -that he was himself again and ready to travel. - -"We don't have far to go now," announced Sagamore Carrigan. "It's only a -couple miles to the river and Skinner's Ferry, where the canoes are; and -from there we can paddle to Kittahannock Lodge in no time--that's where -we stop for the night." - -Once more the hikers put their blanket-rolls over their shoulders and -set out, following the dirt road that led westward from the Glen toward -the river. The councilor now had a hard time to keep them together, so -anxious were they to reach the ferry where the canoes waited for them; -but he held them to the same steady pace. Dirk was forced to admit to -himself that he was tired now, and he was glad when they crossed a stone -bridge over a creek and came in sight of the ferry. - -An unpainted, low frame building with a roof of "shakes," or shingles -split with an ax, lay beside a rude wharf at which was moored a -flat-bottomed scow. Such was the ancient Skinner's Ferry that dated back -to Revolutionary days. On the wharf lay the three Lenape canoes, ready -for their voyage into the wilderness. There was now no thought of -restraining the eager lads, and Dirk, with the rest, broke into a run -that ended on the narrow wharf. An old and bent ferryman came from the -house to announce that the equipment brought from camp on the wagon -awaited them within. - -Now began a busy half-hour of packing and launching the light craft. It -was settled that Dirk and Brick Ryan would handle the _Sachem_, in which -would be stowed the cooking outfit, rations, and odds and ends of camp -outfit, while the other members of the party divided into two crews of -three campers each to manage the _Red Fox_ and the _Whiffenpoof_. When -the equipment had all been stowed inside the rubber tarpaulins and -lashed firmly to the thwarts, so that it would not be wet or lost in -case of an upset, Dirk and his partner each took an end of their vessel -and dropped it overside into the sheltered water below the wharf. As -Dirk climbed into his place at the bow, he took care to make sure that -his first misadventure with his canoe at Lenape should not be repeated; -and in the wake of the other two craft, they shoved forth into the -stream, shouted a farewell to the bent ferryman, and began paddling -swiftly. - -Mr. Carrigan, in the stern of the _Red Fox_, led the way, with Megaro at -the bow paddle and Ugly Brown riding amidships. At a distance of a few -lengths followed the _Whiffenpoof_, carrying Cowboy Platt, Saunders, and -Steve Link. Dirk dipped and pulled his paddle in fast time, for their -course lay diagonally across the current, which at this place rippled -whitely over its stony bed. - -"Make for the point!" shouted the councilor. - -"That's Kittahannock Lodge, where we sleep tonight!" - -Ahead the broad river made a turn, and at the bend a tall white flagpole -rose from a clump of trees, tinged with sunset gold. Dirk gave it a -glance, and bent to his straining task, while Brick fulfilled the -delicate job of keeping the light vessel on its path. On flew the -_Sachem_, as if glad to be afloat and bearing her owner farther and -farther toward the northern wilds. - -Once Dirk paused momentarily to catch his breath. He looked back to the -shore that they were leaving. A road wound along the edge of the river, -above the ferry, and along it crawled a small automobile with a plume of -dust rising behind it. Dirk saw it only for a moment before it -disappeared from sight behind a low hill. But he was sure, as he turned -again to his paddling, that the car was a blue sedan, and that he knew -the slight figure of the man that hunched over the wheel. It was the -mysterious fisherman they had surprised on the shore of Lake Lenape some -days before. - - - - - CHAPTER XV - THE TRAP ON FLINT ISLAND - - -Sagamore Carrigan and his trailers were greeted in hearty fashion by the -campers of Kittahannock Lodge, and the director, who each year was glad -to extend his hospitality to the Lenape Long Trailers, offered an empty -tent-house to the canoe party. He also invited them to supper at the -lodge, but when Mr. Carrigan explained that they had provisions with -them, assigned them a grassy spot above the river. Here, after they had -washed up in the camp bath-house, the trailers were drawn about the fire -by the aroma of Cowboy Platt's cookery, and attacked with no little -gusto the meal he handed out. - -As soon as each man had washed his plate and fork, the trailers joined -in the campfire merriment of the Kittahannock tribe within the lodge of -hewn timber, on the walls of which were hung many examples of their -woodcraft skill and collections of natural objects. The band was a -lively and merry crowd, and the Lenape lads joined in the fun in -friendly spirit. Games and stunts passed the time until the call to -quarters sounded, and the eight hikers sought their cabin sleepily with -many thoughts of their exciting first day on the trail. - -Sagamore Carrigan yawned as he pulled his blankets over him and switched -off his flash-lantern. "Not many stars out," he remarked; "and I didn't -like the way the campfire smoke hung low in the chimney tonight. I -wouldn't be at all surprised if we had a wet cruise tomorrow, fellows." - -Dirk woke in the night to hear a splatter of drops on the roof of the -tent-house; and he fell asleep again thinking drowsily that the leader's -words had come true. The next morning dawned mistily over a wet world, -and a swirling fog hung low over the river, shrouding the farther shore. -The gloomy weather, though, penetrated no deeper than the ponchos of the -Lenape boys, who after a warming breakfast, were afloat at an early -hour. In a mysterious silence they pushed off into the overhung waters -to continue their cruise up-stream, keeping close together so that no -canoe should be separated from the others in the fog. - -After an hour's stiff paddling against the stubborn current, they saw -the sun shine through once or twice, and the fog cleared away. But it -was plain to be seen that the rain would continue steadily throughout -the day. Through the downpour, Dirk caught sight of the river banks, now -much closer together than they had been at Skinner's Ferry. Shallow -rapids became much more frequent, and Brick in the stern had to exercise -unusual care to see that the _Sachem's_ bottom was not ripped on some -jagged rock. - -Dirk, paddling doggedly with his arms thrust through the slits in his -rubber poncho, felt the muscles of his shoulders stiffening with the -unwonted labor; and he was happy when, in the middle of the morning, the -little fleet came into sight of the white houses of the small river town -of Port Jermyn. They tied up at the wharf where the main street of the -town ended, and strolled about through the rain-swept village while the -councilor, assisted by Steve Link, purchased the supplies that would be -their sole provisions until their return from the wilds into which they -were about to plunge. - -The stop at Port Jermyn, short as it was, refreshed the paddlers, and -Dirk found that he had gained his second wind. He still retained his -place in the bow, however, for he did not feel that he owned the skill -necessary to guide the _Sachem_ through the ever-increasing shallows of -the river above the town. Feeling that he had left civilization behind -for some time to come, he worked with a will, chewing a piece of -butterscotch and waiting patiently for the signal that would mean a halt -for the midday meal. - -Shortly after noon, Mr. Carrigan beckoned to the following canoeists to -turn off the main stream into the mouth of a wide creek flowing from the -west. A few hundred yards from the outlet, they turned their craft -toward the bank, and climbed out stiffly to stretch and gather dry wood -for a smoky fire built beneath the shielding branches of a large oak. -The canoes were turned on their sides, ponchos were taken off and -stretched on sticks above the openings, and within these snug shelters -the trailers lounged on their backs and lazily devoured heaping plates -of beans and bread and slightly damp cookies. - -"We-all are goin' to fix some spaghetti for supper, in your honor, Wop!" -Cowboy Platt twitted Megaro. "How will you like that?" - -"O. K., I bet!" answered the Italian boy. "Say, maybe I catch some -bullheads in Lake Moosehorn, and if I get more than fifty, I give you -one to eat in your honor!" - -Dirk laughed, not because the joke was good, but because he was well fed -and warm and happy to be with such a game crowd of campers. Although the -rain might have dampened the holiday moods of many boys, not one of -these lads had uttered a word of complaint. Later that eventful day, -Dirk was to look back wistfully at that scene; for neither he nor Brick -Ryan was fated to partake of that contemplated meal of fish and -spaghetti on the shore of Lake Moosehorn. - -Refreshed and rested, the boys broke camp and prepared to leave the -broad river behind. Dirk recalled that this stream they were now -following must be the Sweetwater Creek shown on the map that Sagamore -Carrigan carried in his breast pocket. If so, it would lead to the first -of the Chain of Ponds, where the first portage would begin. - -His surmise was correct. Close together, their bows sometimes brushing -overhanging limbs of trees as they rounded a bend in the creek and a new -reach of rain-spattered water met the paddlers' eyes, the three canoes -wended up-stream. On either side the walls of the forest closed in about -them, and in some places it was as gloomy as though it had been -nightfall instead of broad afternoon. Before two miles had slipped past -their dripping paddles, the creek ended in a rough dam of logs that -marked the outlet of the lowest of the ponds; and here was the first -portage. - -It was a short one, merely circling the dam and so to another launching -on the dark mirror-like water of the pond. The boys landed and hauled -their canoes ashore; then, without bothering to remove the contents, -they each seized an end and carried the craft up a narrow trail, -slippery with weeds and mud, to the edge of the pond. Once more afloat, -they pulled through the dripping rain in the rippling wake of the _Red -Fox_. Dirk, brushing the drops from his glistening face, wondered how -the leader could find his way through the winding passage. Reeds and -ugly, misshapen snags jutted upward from the murky, black bottom covered -with dead leaves, and somehow brought a chill to the boy in the canoe, -so close were they beneath his paddle. He wondered what would happen to -any daring soul that might try to swim in the dark forbidding water. - -Sagamore Carrigan knew his way, however, and unerringly came out at the -end where the next portage began. This was a long one, for these two -ponds were connected only by a swampy trickle that wound across hummocks -of mud. For half a mile the boys threaded through the ankle-deep muck; -and though the councilor sent Spaghetti Megaro back to bear a part of -the overburdened _Sachem_, Dirk was ready to call a halt before a third -of the way had been traversed. Gritting his teeth, he tried to forget -the cutting, swaying load pressing his aching shoulders, meanwhile -thanking his stars that his shoes were strong and waterproof. - -By the end of the afternoon all the trailers, although they would not -have admitted it under torture, were heartily sick of ponds and -portages. Everlastingly climbing in and out of the vessels, slipping and -sliding through an overgrown footpath with one end of a staunch canoe on -one's shoulder and dripping branches catching at garments and whipping -into one's face, all in a semi-darkness that depressed the heartiest -spirit--it seemed to all of them that they could not last out another -hour of this winding progress through the lowlands, when from the van -came Sagamore Wise-Tongue's cheering cry: "Lake Moosehorn ahead!" - -The broad expanse of clear water uplifted the souls of all. Dirk, -feeling glad that reeds and snags and winding dark ponds were left -behind at last, threw himself on a grassy bank beside his canoe, -breathing a sigh of relief. It was late in the afternoon and the rain -had slackened to a filmy drizzle. Across from them loomed the hump of -Flint Island, while over the tree-clad summit of Mount Kinnecut toward -the west, the descending sun was bravely trying to show forth before -sinking into night. - -"We'll be pitching camp inside an hour, men," said the leader. "Our -headquarters will be at the old spot at the far end of the lake, up by -that tall dead spruce. From there we'll have to use our feet instead of -our paddles, to make the summit of Kinnecut." - -"Huh!" remarked Ugly Brown. "I've been usin' my feet all day. I don't -mind hikin', if I don't have to carry a canoe with me. Why, after today, -I'll probably race up to the top of that little mountain tomorrow just -to get an appetite for breakfast!" - -"We'll never even pitch camp before dark if you yearlings don't stop -argufyin' and get started," drawled Cowboy. "I want lots of wood cut for -the fire, and somebody mentioned he was goin' to hook some fish." - -"Well, we'll move along, then, and do our resting when we get to camp," -said Mr. Carrigan. "It's the old earth that will be your bed tonight, if -I don't cut some spruce tips for mattresses--so let's be on our way!" - -The _Red Fox_ and the _Whiffenpoof_ pushed out on the lake for the last -lap of the day's long journey. - -"Well," asked Brick Ryan, paddle in hand, "aren't you goin' to stir, my -son?" - -"I suppose so." Dirk rose stiffly, and stretched. "Gollies, I hate to -move, though. I could go to sleep right now." - -"Not here, my bucko." The red-headed boy playfully prodded his -canoe-mate in the ribs. "Stir your stumps. Look, the other guys are -almost out of sight around Flint Island. Old Wise-Tongue is wavin' for -us to come on." - -The two foremost canoes vanished behind the bulk of the little island as -the _Sachem_ pushed out. - -"Steer over along the shore of the island, will you?" asked Dirk, after -a moment. "I thought I saw something moving in the bushes. It looked -like----See it? Why, it's a man! And he's waving to us! What do you -suppose he wants?" - -He quickened his stroke, and they pulled toward the rocky edge where the -waterline of the lake marked the island. A low, hoarse cry rose from the -twilight of the thickets. - -"Ay! Help me, you come help! I caught!" - -A man's head was visible through a gap between the trees. The hair was -long and black, the skin dark, and the features that could be made out -were rugged and wild-looking. The voice was that of one in pain. - -"Why, it's an Indian! Hurry, Brick--he's hurt. Maybe a tree fell on -him!" - -"Don't you think you better take it slow till you know what's up?" - -"Nonsense! He needs us right away. Here's a good place to land." Dirk -leaped ashore as he spoke, and ran to the spot where the Indian lay -moaning in his broken pidgin-English. - -As he approached, the man rose to his feet and leaped at the boy like a -wildcat. As the outstretched arms caught Dirk about the shoulders and -threw him backward, he realized, too late, what was happening. - -"Get away, Brick!" he screamed. "It's a trick!" He fell on the rocky -ground, with the strange Indian upon him, holding his body so that he -could not move an inch, nor see what Brick was doing. - -"No, he won't get away," said a cruel, level voice. "And if you yelp -once more, young Van Horn, you'll get a bullet in your noisy mouth!" - -Dirk felt the heavy body above him suddenly removed; the Indian was -rising to his feet. The boy staggered upward, and was again thrown to -the earth by a fierce thrust. - -"Lie there and cool off!" ordered the unseen. "Yes, I've got a gun on -you, and on your smart pal, too. Get out of that canoe quick, Red, if -you know what's good for you." - -"If you didn't have that pistol on me," muttered Brick Ryan savagely -through clenched teeth, "I'd--I'd----" - -"Enough of that!" - -At last Dirk made out the form of the man who, with the aid of the -rascally Indian, had trapped them. He felt only a dull throb of surprise -as he recognized him. Brick's warning at Lake Lenape had been justified, -after all. The mysterious fisherman had tracked them down and caught -them alone at last. - -The man deliberately walked up to Brick, the gleaming nose of his pistol -showing in his right hand. With his left he thrust swiftly upward. There -was the sound of a blow against flesh, and Brick fell heavily upon the -pebbled shore. - -"Lie there, both of you. Now, Mink," their captor addressed the Indian, -"dump that stuff out of their canoe and put it in ours. We need it more -than that dumb bunch of kids up the lake. Then tie up these two birds -tight, and dump them in too. We've got to get away before the ones up -ahead come back to see what's wrong. Wish I could see their faces when -they find out!" - -"What--what are you going to do with us?" asked Dirk hoarsely. - -The stranger laughed unpleasantly. "You'll find out soon enough, kid. -Ready, Mink? That's good. Now, turn over that fancy red canoe and shove -it way out in the channel, so that when the main gang come back, they'll -know for sure that these two wise little scouts are drowned to death and -sunk to the bottom of the lake!" - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - FIRE IN THE FOREST - - -Trussed with light rope like a pair of fowl ready for slaughter, the two -boys were lifted one by one in the Indian's arms and laid in the bottom -of his dirty canoe. Neither could speak, for bandana handkerchiefs were -knotted tightly between their teeth, so that they had barely a chance to -breathe. They lay on the unyielding ribs of the craft, which apparently -leaked, for several inches of chilly water sloshed about beneath them -and ran down their necks, soaking their already damp clothing. - -The tarpaulin-wrapped bundle containing the provisions stolen from the -Lenape trailers was dumped next to their heads. The man with the pistol -crouched in the bow, his slicker thrown open, now that the rain had -stopped. His dark-skinned henchman, whom he had called Mink, cast -another glance at the _Sachem_, which was caught in the channel current -and, bottom upward, drifted toward the outlet. Then, seizing his paddle, -he pushed off the heavy-laden vessel and began paddling furiously toward -the far shore. - -Although they were effectively hidden from the eyes of any returning -Lenape canoeists as long as they kept the length of the island between -them, the two men kept a wary lookout until they gained the shelter of -the far shore, where the deepening twilight hid them from any -possibility of discovery. Dirk, squirming painfully in his bonds, could -see only the body of the muscular Mink above him, his moving head and -arms outlined against the purple sky, in which one star already gleamed. -He could hear Brick Ryan breathing heavily beside him, and bit at his -gag angrily, realizing that he could help neither his comrade nor -himself. If only he had departed with the other members of the party, -the two desperate men would not have had opportunity to snare them as -they had done. It had been all his own fault, Dirk condemned himself. If -only he had listened to Brick---- - -But why were they thus trapped and taken from their friends toward an -unknown fate, leaving an overturned canoe behind to give the cruel -impression that they had drowned? What was the meaning of it? Why had -this man, who now sat slumped in the bow of the leaky canoe, followed -Dirk so relentlessly into the wilds? - -He puzzled until his head throbbed, but could piece out no answer to -those questions. The steady rhythm of the paddle might have lulled him -off to a fitful stupor, so weary was he; but the filthy water in the -bottom of the canoe slapped him again and again into wakefulness. It -seemed as if hours passed before the canoe made a sudden swerve -shoreward, and the bottom beneath him scraped on a gravel spit of land. - -It was already quite dark. The two lads were bundled out of the canoe -and were glad to be relieved from their painful position. Had their -captor not untied all their bonds save those holding their hands behind -their backs, they would have fallen over when they were first put on -their feet; as it was, Dirk was forced to lean against a tree to keep -himself erect. - -The Indian's master pulled the gags from their mouths with a warning. -"Not a word out of either of you! Not that it would do you any good, at -that. You don't know where you are, but I can tell you it's miles from -anybody that could hear you, or would care what I did to you if you -yelled. So be good little kids and follow my half-breed friend Mink. And -remember, I still have my gun handy." - -The half-breed, who during this time had been pulling his canoe ashore -and hiding it in a pile of brush near by, now silently raised the pack -of provisions to his shoulder and began stolidly tramping through the -darkness. The driven boys stumbled in his wake, too weary to know or -care where the overgrown path might lead. Behind them marched the -nameless man, who now and then uttered an oath as he tripped over a root -or sank ankle-deep in a forest pool. - -After half a mile, the guard dropped so far behind that Dirk ventured a -cautious whisper in the direction of his friend; although, since the -half-breed looked back from time to time, it was impossible to attempt a -flight. - -"Where do you think they're taking us, Brick?" - -Brick shook his head hopelessly. "Don't know--too dark to see. I think -we're on the west side of Moosehorn, but maybe not." - -"I'm sorry I was such a fool as to let them take us so easily. If I'd -listened to you----" - -"Don't worry, my lad." Brick's voice was somehow cheering. "They won't -hurt you. Me, maybe, but not you." - -"You mean--you know why they captured us? I've been trying to figure it -out. Why, why did they do it?" - -"Mean to tell me you don't know? Why, I've been suspectin' it since the -first time I saw that guy with the gun. Don't you realize that he -kidnaped you so that he could make your dad pay a wad of money to get -you back?" - -Dirk Van Horn gasped incredulously. "But--kidnapers! Why, my father -isn't a wealthy man! He's quite well off, but even if he is president of -a bank, he doesn't own all the money in it!" - -"Well, wouldn't he give all he's got to have you back home safe again? -Sure, he'd do that, and this tough bird that's got us counts on it. No, -you're safe until he gets some ransom for you." - -"Quiet, there!" commanded an angry voice, with a curse. Their guard had -caught up to them, and a wave of his weapon put a stop to their -whispered comments. But Dirk at last understood why he was a prisoner. -He understood, too, the strange invitation of the man when they had -surprised him at Lake Lenape. He had tried to lure them away from their -friends, and failing in that, had kept watch on the boy's every -movement. Seeing that a capture was impossible so close to the camp, he -had somehow found out about the long trail expedition, and no doubt -hiring the villainous half-breed Mink to help him in his criminal -purpose, had gone before them and waylaid them at Flint Island by a -ruse, at a time when the two boys were by chance separated from the main -party. - -At long last the man ahead stopped and put down his burden. A dim shape -loomed before them, a rough hut of logs chinked with mud, that was -evidently the dwelling of the half-breed. He fumbled with the latch on -the door. The man in the slicker tossed away a glowing cigarette, and -pushed them inside, harshly ordering Mink to shut the door and cover the -window before lighting the lantern. - -In the glow of the battered oil-lantern that the half-breed brought -forth, the boys looked about with half-shut eyes. A heap of cured skins -lay in one corner, and the single room smelled vilely of stale smoke and -damp walls and animal remains. The Indian knelt on the hearth of the -rough stone fireplace, but his master stopped him with a word. - -"Quit that! Do you want to tell the world where we are? They could see -that smoke ten miles away! We'll grab a cold supper tonight, and -tomorrow when you're here with them, don't take any chances, or you'll -end up in the jug! There must be some stuff in that bundle that we can -eat." - -He sank down on a stool and lit another cigarette, while the half-breed -rummaged in the Lenape provision-sack and discovered some cans of fruit -and vegetables, which he opened with the blade of an ax. The two -prisoners, too tired to care what befell, sank to the floor and lay -there half-asleep, until the Indian roused them roughly and shoved food -at them, untying their chilled hands so that they might eat. - -Hungrily, they wolfed down the unappetizing fare. Cold corn from a can, -dry bread, and still dryer prunes do not constitute an ideal repast for -famished boys, but they made the best of what was given them. Brick, -indeed, was so strengthened by the meal, poor as it was, that his Irish -fighting spirit came back to him. Chewing a crust, he lifted his head -and directed a fierce glance at their enemies. - -"You'll go to jail for life for doin' this!" he challenged. - -The man wiped his mouth leisurely, rose, and strode over to the hapless -lads. - -"Still full of pep, eh? Well, Redhead, it won't take us long to put that -out of you! Young Mr. Millionaire Van Horn here will be all right if -Papa comes across tomorrow, but you ain't worth a nickel to me, and -don't forget it!" His cold blue eyes widened. "Say, what's that thing -stickin' out of your shirt?" - -Brick drew back, fumbling at his breast, where the honor of Lenape, in -the shape of a rumpled bit of green-and-white bunting, had been carried -throughout the journey. - -"It's--nothin', just a flag," he muttered, trying to stuff it out of -sight. - -His tormentor laughed jeeringly. "Just a flag, eh?" With a sudden -movement, he tore it from the boy's grasp. After a slighting glance, he -crumpled it in his fist, strode to the door, and tossed the Lenape -pennant into the mud outside the step. - -He whirled to meet Brick's leap. Dirk sprang to help, but was -disdainfully pushed aside by the silent half-breed. When next he looked, -Brick lay sprawled out on the floor, with an ugly red blotch on his -forehead and helpless rage crackling in his eyes. - -The man's doubled fist threatened further punishment. Then, with another -empty laugh, he turned on his heel. - -"Go to sleep, you brats," he flung out over his shoulder. "Toss them -some blankets, Mink. I've got to get some rest if I'm hoofing over to -Yanceyville in the morning." - -The blanket-rolls of the two trailers had been taken from their canoe -along with the larger pack; and these were now thrown over them as they -crouched in one corner of the hut. The walls and crude floor-boards let -in draughts of chill, damp night air, and they hunched together dumbly -for warmth and companionship. With the moaning of the wind through the -trees above their heads as a doleful lullaby, they sank into the -despairing slumber of the captive. - -After a century of nightmares in that dark, noisome hole, Dirk stirred -his cramped limbs and opened his eyes to find a ray of daylight slanting -through the single window. His enemy stood with one hand on the latch of -the door, giving parting orders to his servile guide. The man's pasty -face showed the effects of an existence that was not natural to him, -whose haunts were those of the city. His serge suit was stained and -creased, while his cheek bore a clotted scratch where he had scraped it -against the projecting limb of a tree during the dark passage of the -previous night. - -"And remember," he was snarling, "that you ain't to let those brats out -of your sight for a minute! They're slippery little imps, especially -that red-headed one. If all goes well and the old man comes across with -the money, I'll be back with your share by night." - -"You not try to fool me, eh? You pay me what you said?" - -"Sure, Mink. We're partners on this--split the dough fifty-fifty. I'll -telegraph old Van Horn from Yanceyville, and if he's got any sense, -he'll send the cash by wire right away. It's a cinch." - -He passed out into the sunlight, scratched a match, and began puffing -the eternal cigarette. As he disappeared, the Indian shrugged and set -about putting together a breakfast as cold and cheerless as the meal of -the previous night. - -Miserably the boys roused themselves to face another day of -imprisonment, in the tumbledown cabin of the half-breed, who handed food -to them silently and whose watchful, savage glare made them break off -each time they attempted to speak to one another. In fact, so closely -did he watch their least move that Dirk, after an hour, gave up all hope -of finding any avenue of escape from beneath the half-breed's eye. - -More than two hours had passed, Dirk judged, since the departure of -their nameless foe, who was evidently now well on his way to Yanceyville -on his nefarious errand of attempting to extort a large sum of money -from Dirk's father as a ransom. What would happen? Even if the money -were paid promptly, would this man free them at once, or would he -attempt some further villainy to prevent them from putting the law on -his track as soon as they had won to civilization? - -Mink, who had been sitting on his stool with his back against the door, -passing the time by whittling idly at a stick of firewood, sat up -suspiciously. His nose was in the air, sniffing like a hound that has -lost the scent. He rose with a clatter and paced, still sniffing, to the -dead fireplace. After a few seconds, he shrugged and returned, -apparently satisfied, to his post. - -Dirk went back to his gloomy thoughts, which were now turned toward his -companions, who had set out so blithely with him on the Long Trail. Were -they even now mourning his death and Brick's, as victims of a canoe -accident? He recalled his clumsiness the first time the _Sachem_ was -launched--no doubt they thought him still a lubber who would upset his -craft and drag his friend with him to the watery depths. But Mr. -Carrigan was wise; and though their captors were cunning, they had left -several clues that might be read. For instance, the provision-sack had -been tightly lashed within the canoe; Sagamore Wise-Tongue would think -it strange that it had worked loose when the canoe overturned. They had -left no tracks, except a trampled spot in the bushes on Flint Island, -but perhaps, perhaps the Lenape men had not given up hope. Their stock -of food was gone, but they would find some way to exist, even in the -wilderness---- - -He woke from his reverie. Mink had again jumped to his feet, nose in -air. Dirk sniffed too. Something stronger than the heavy odor of the -cabin was sifting through the chinks in the logs. It smelled like the -lodge at Lenape, in the evening with the whole tribe gathered around the -fireplace---- - -With a wild cry, the Indian threw open the door, leaped across the -threshold, and slammed it behind his retreating form. A frozen instant -of hushed wonder--the smell became undeniable--a smell of charring -timber---- - -Dirk dashed for the window, but Brick was before him. Together, the boys -stared through the dirty pane. The forest showed them no danger signals, -but from over their heads came the thuds of a scrambling body and the -low hiss of flames in dry shingle-boards. - -Brick turned to his friend, his freckled face aglow with renewed hope. - -"This cabin must be afire, Dirk!" he muttered, trying to keep down the -exultation in his heart. "Gollies, listen to that! The roof must be -blazin' like sixty!" - -It was true; rising above the beats of his heart, the listening Dirk -could hear the crackling of hungry flames. - -"Our chance!" Brick's eyes were dancing. "Come on! Old Mink sure will be -busy for a minute, and he won't think about us. Now's our chance to make -a getaway!" - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - THE FLIGHT INTO THE HILLS - - -The two captives were out the door of the burning cabin in an instant, -and broke wildly for cover in the thickets beyond the clearing. - -Dirk, as he fled, cast a desperate glance over his shoulder. Mink, their -half-breed guard, had climbed somehow to the roof of his shanty, and -with his khaki shirt, which he had torn off in haste, was striving to -beat out the licking flames that fed on the dry, rotten shakes. His back -was toward them, and he was so immersed in his furious task that he took -no notice of their flight. - -With Brick at his side, running stealthily and gasping for breath, he -found himself beneath the shadow of a clump of pines. Pausing now to -look about and get some feeling of the direction of the lake where their -friends must be, he was startled by having his comrade seize his arm and -shake it roughly. - -"Gollies, how could I forget?" the red-headed lad panted. "I left the -flag back there at the hut--the other guy chucked it in the mud last -night!" - -"We can't stop!" urged Dirk. "That Indian will get us----" - -"No! Sagamore Carrigan give it to me to keep safe--it's the honor of -Lenape, he said! I got to get it! Say, Van, these birds don't want me. -It's you they're after--you keep runnin', and maybe I'll catch up with -you!" - -He was off before Dirk could speak further, racing back the way they had -come, perhaps into the very arms of the enraged Mink. Dirk, however, had -no intention of deserting his friend. He could see nothing in the -direction of the hut save a thin column of greasy-looking smoke through -the trees. He threw himself on the needle-carpeted earth, his chest -heaving with exertion and excitement. If Brick came back this way, with -the Indian after him, perhaps he could divert his attention, lead him a -chase through the underbrush---- - -A squawking flight of large birds, crows and bluejays among them, -swooped over his head. He rose on his elbow to mark their noisy passage. -Not five yards off, the low scrub-oak bushes rustled and parted, -revealing a rusty-coated, sharp-nosed animal with a brushy tail. It was -a fox. Dirk did not move; the fox saw him, but cast only an incurious -eye on him, and trotted off swiftly as if on urgent business at a far -place. - -Dirk jumped to his feet. A curl of smoke crept across the slanting bars -of sunlight that fell to the floor of the glade. A distant murmur like a -rising wind came to him, and his mouth went dry with fear. Why wasn't -Brick back? What was happening there through the screening forest? - -He took a step forward, as if to run to his comrade's assistance. As he -did so, he caught sight of Brick on the other side of the glade, waved, -and ran to his side. The Irish lad's face was pale, but he clutched in -one hand the bedraggled banner he had risked recapture to save. - -Dirk took his arm. "Are you all right, old fellow? Where is Mink?" - -"I--I fell down once, and he saw me, but he couldn't get down from the -roof. Say, some of the bushes and trees are on fire--I could hear 'em -sizzle. Let's get out of here!" - -"Which way is the lake, do you know?" - -"We can't stop to think about that--we've got to run! Soon as he puts -out the fire, that Indian is goin' to start trackin' us down--they can -follow like a bloodhound!" - -"He won't put it out soon. Look there!" Dirk pointed into the tree tops. -The crackling roar had grown louder now, and as they looked, a leaping -rope of flame bridged the gap between two trees nearly overhead. A -smoking twig whirled to the ground beside them, starting a slow spark in -the dry pine-needles. - -"We can't tell which way to go--but I think the fire is between us and -the lake! We must get away!" - -He began to pull Brick forward, following the direction taken by the -fleeing fox. - -"Say, thanks for waitin' for me," gasped Brick. "But you better----" - -"Save your wind!" Dirk fought his way through a scratching barrier of -brush. The horror of a hissing wall of flames at their backs put wings -on his heels. - -They labored in silence up a steep hillside, crossed a rocky ridge, and -scrambled down into a blasted ravine on the other side. Dirk was aware -that his friend was muttering shakily. - -"I got to stop a minute! You can't hear the fire now--get my wind----" - -Both spoke softly, as if even now some enemy, concealed near them, might -overhear. - -"All right," Dirk replied, watching Brick sink down upon a moss-covered -ledge of rock. "But that Indian will be following us as soon as he can, -if he knows we've gone this way. Maybe we should go in another -direction." - -A few moments passed in silence. - -"I wish I knew where the lake was," said Dirk finally. - -"Well, this creek here probably runs down into it." - -"That's true--but as near as I can see, this is the same one that goes -right by the cabin. We'd only run right back into Mink's arms. Guess -we've got to make for the hills. Then if one of us climbs a tree, we can -get our bearings." - -Brick sighed heavily, and Dirk stared at him. Their adventures had put -them both in sad case. Garments were stained and torn, bareheaded and -grimed with dirt were they, looking like two scarecrows. Dirk wondered -why Brick was so laggard in the flight. It was not like him to drag -behind. The boy's freckles stood out against his white face, and his lip -was trembling. - -"Know what I think?" asked Dirk. "I'll bet that man with the gun was the -person that started the fire. Of course he didn't do it on purpose, but -he was always smoking cigarettes and throwing them away without putting -them out first. This morning, when he went away, he was smoking. A spark -probably caught somewhere and set fire to the shack--it's a regular old -tinderbox. Well, shall we start again?" - -"I'm game," answered Brick; but he took his time getting to his feet. - -They began the second stage of their flight by crossing the creek, where -they paused for a hasty draught of water, and then attacked the long -steady slope on the far side, toiling upward through a dense growth of -evergreens. It seemed as if they would never get clear of the towering -trunks and branches that seemed to push down upon their shoulders, -smothering them and impeding their way. When at last they attained the -height, Dirk was reluctantly forced to abandon his plan to climb a tree -and thus get a view of the surrounding country. The lower branches were -still so far above his head that it would be impossible for the most -agile boy to get a foothold on the smooth trunks. - -He turned to Brick. "Say, old lad, perhaps if you give me a boost----" -He broke off, seeing the pain in his friend's drawn face. The eyes were -shifting feverishly above the hollow cheeks, and the boy was biting his -lip to keep back a moan of anguish. "Why, Brick, are you hurt? Why -didn't you tell me?" - -Brick swayed, and had Dirk not run to his side to support his body, -would have collapsed to the ground. "I'm--all right," he gasped out. -"You go on--get to the top of the darned mountain--the honor of the -camp----" - -"What's the trouble? Are you sick?" - -"Fell down that time--the Indian was lookin'--kind of knocked my ankle -over a rock----" He fell backward in his comrade's arms, and Dirk -realized that he had fainted. - -That was Brick Ryan, all right--floundering along gamely without a word, -although his ankle must have made him want to scream out at every step! -Then a realization of the seriousness of the situation came over Dirk, -and he began tearing at the loose collar at his injured friend's throat. - -Fortunately, he had not spent his time at Camp Lenape without picking up -some bits of knowledge of first-aid. "When anyone faints, never try to -move him--give him lots of air--lean him forward so the blood rushes to -his head----" Muttering these half-remembered instructions, he bent the -limp body forward and began rubbing Brick's dangling wrists and -forearms. He wished they had brought some water, but there had been no -way to carry it---- - -Brick moaned weakly, and his eyelids fluttered. "What--what happened, -huh? Is it Van? Whillikers, to think that F. X. A. Ryan passed out like -a baby----" - -"Don't talk," his friend ordered. "Just rest a minute. We're safe for a -while now. When you feel better I'll go get you a drink." - -The injured boy fell back, his chest heaving irregularly. Dirk stripped -off his sweater and folding it into the form of a pillow, placed it -under Brick's head, slightly downhill. His next care was to examine the -ankle that had been struck when the boy had escaped, for a second time, -from the half-breed's clearing. - -The ankle was swollen badly--no doubt about that. Dirk, feeling glad -that their captors had not searched him, found his pocket-knife and -carefully slashed away the strings of Brick's shoe; he then tenderly -removed it, although not without causing a slight groan from its owner. -The stocking was also pulled off, exposing the wounded area. - -The ankle looked puffy and discolored, but as near as Dirk could tell, -it was not broken or even seriously sprained. But none the less, it was -almost a catastrophe for a pair of fugitives in their plight. Without -food of any kind, their ponchos and blankets left behind them when they -fled from the hut, and with a savage pursuer no doubt already on their -track, they must travel far and fast. Now, one of them was crippled, in -pain. - -"Brick," said the boy urgently, "do you think you'll be all right if I -carry you a ways? We've got to get to water, and I think there's a brook -at the bottom of this hill somewhere. If you're sure you won't faint -again----" - -Brick clenched his teeth. "Go ahead," he answered bravely. "Gee, I hate -to think that I'm holdin' up the party this way. Maybe if you left me, -you might find somebody who would come back and get me." - -"Nonsense! Whatever happens, I won't leave you, old lad. It won't be -much of a job if I take you with the fireman's lift." - -Brick grunted as he was hoisted upon his friend's right shoulder, his -body hanging downward from the waist; but he made no outcry as Dirk bore -him in this fashion down the hill. In fact, he was so silent that Dirk -feared he had fainted for a second time; but since his head hung low, he -was in no danger. The truth was that he was gritting his teeth to keep -from moaning when the injured ankle swung slightly in their progress. - -Dirk, for his part, made haste to reach the brook, for he bore no light -burden. But a vision of what might happen were he to injure his own legs -among the treacherous roots and rocks of the hillside made him step -warily. If both of them lay hurt in the wilderness, with none knowing -their plight or whereabouts, they would eventually starve, if they did -not sooner die of exposure. - -At long last, the burbling of water over stones was heard close at hand, -and Dirk eased his burden to the ground. The rains of yesterday had -swollen the little watercourse, and a fairly deep pool, overhung with -brambles and scrub-oak, glistened beside them. - -Dirk wiped the sweat from his face, and took a deep breath. His first -care was to bring his companion a drink of water in his cupped hands, -and to wash away the sticky grime that clung to Brick's pale cheeks and -forehead. - -"That's swell!" sighed Brick. "Now, if my foot was tied up good and -tight, maybe I could hobble on a ways further." - -"I'm taking no chances," answered Dirk grimly. "That hoof of yours looks -bad. Here, move to the bank, right over this place, and dangle it in the -cold water. Best thing to take down the swelling." - -Brick Ryan obediently did as he was told. The shock of the chill water -on his ankle set his teeth chattering, for all the moist heat of the -forest; but soon the injured part became numb, and the throbbing ache -nearly stopped. - -Almost an hour passed. During this time Dirk had not been idle. He had -found a straight, tough sapling of ash with a fork at the top, and with -his knife had shaped the ends to the semblance of a rude crutch. - -"Mighty warm today," he remarked to the watching Brick, as he pulled off -his khaki shirt over his head. "Won't need this." He proceeded to tear -the shirt into strips. The narrowest of these he laid aside, and bound -the rest over the forked head of the improvised crutch, making a smooth -padding. - -"Now, let's have a look at the ankle again." - -Brick summoned up a tired grin. "It's much better, Doc. You couldn't -look after me any better if you had a beautiful nurse to help you. Say, -what do you keep lookin' over your shoulder all the time for?" - -"Am I doing that? Humph! Guess I'm still scared old Mink will pop his -head out at us. I sure don't want to get kidnaped again with that ugly -lot, do you?" - -While he was speaking, he had deftly wound the strips torn from his -shirt tightly about the bruised ankle. The cold-water treatment had -reduced the swelling almost completely, but the skin showed an ugly -black and blue patch. - -"Yell out if I hurt too much," he ordered; "but the tighter I tie it, -the better it will be." He rose, and helping Brick to his feet, offered -him the crutch he had made. "Now see if you can get around." - -Brick gingerly took a few steps. "Gollies, this is a swell crutch, all -right! I'm good for a hundred-mile hike right now. But where do we head -for?" - -For a moment Dirk made no answer. Then something snapped inside him, and -he cried out bitterly. - -"I don't know! Where are we? Where is the Lenape gang? We've got to find -food and shelter before night, and already it's getting late! Oh, I -don't know where to go, Brick--but we've got to go now, or we're done!" - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - THE END OF THE TRAIL - - -Dirk's momentary outburst passed as soon as it had come, leaving him -heartily ashamed of his despair. He should not be the one to lose hope; -now, if ever, he must show the manhood that was in him. - -He clapped Brick Ryan on the back, and tried to summon a smile. "There, -old man, it's all right. This whole mess is really my fault--I was dumb -enough to let myself get kidnaped in the first place. If you think that -crutch of yours will work, take a good drink and let's hike." - -Brick set off eagerly, stumping across the creek and manfully following -Dirk's leadership through the forest, trying not to drag his -tightly-bound foot or to knock it against the stumps and boulders that -littered the earth. Dirk kept looking backward to see how his friend was -progressing, stopping now and again to lend an arm in crossing some -marshy bog or climbing a steep bank. He tried to keep his bearings and -follow a straight line that eventually would bring them out upon high -ground from which he hoped to spy the lake, the only landmark that -either of them knew. - -He forced Brick to stop frequently, for otherwise the red-haired lad -would have gamely plodded on until he dropped. During one of the pauses, -Brick asked: "Say, since it looks like we're lost for certain, what -about buildin' a smoky signal fire? Maybe if the gang is around, they'll -see it and come to help." - -"I thought of that. But we don't know that they are still around. Don't -forget they think we're drowned. And we do know that Mink will be -looking for us. A smoke signal would give us away--he'd get us before -anybody else could find where we were." - -On, on they went at the maddeningly slow pace that made their journey -seem like a dream, one of those nightmares in which the sleeper is -pursued by unknown terror, but must stagger onward like a man walking -under water. The sun dropped lower and lower above the endless tree -tops. - -Brick sank down, and threw his crutch away from him with a groan. - -"It's no use!" he panted. "I can't go on, Van. My foot's achin' like it -was stung by a million bumblebees. If I had somethin' to eat, maybe I -could get a little further, but gollies, this hike is too much for me. -You go on," he pleaded, "wherever you can go, and leave me--leave -me----No half-breed in any old canoe will ever turn me over and shoot me -in the leg----" His crazy jargon trailed off into a feverish moan. - -It was painfully clear to Dirk that his friend's strength was completely -gone, and that he was already on the fringes of delirium. The shadows -were lengthening on the mountainside where they lay; during the last -hour they had been climbing steadily. Soon it would be dark. - -The boy looked about him helplessly. Was this the end? The end of that -long trail the two comrades had followed together, through capture and -fire and flight and injury----He stood on a rocky shoulder of mountain -in trackless wilds, with his hurt friend huddled at his feet. If he had -a part of the skill of Sagamore Carrigan, he might, even with only his -jack-knife to help him, rig up some sort of shelter against the coming -cold night, might find some wild food or trap a small beast. But he -could lean on no other person now; he was alone with his helpless -charge. A keen wind swept up from the valleys below. It was Dirk Van -Horn's dark hour. - -As he stared out over the gently waving tree tops, he could see only -endless ridges of hills, one beyond another, above which the red torch -of the sun blazed like a burning ship. They must have circled around too -far, until now they were on the other side of the slopes that guarded -Lake Moosehorn. He turned his face upward, where the summit of the -mountain showed against the sky. As he looked, a pale spark came into -being against the dimming sky. It was a star. No! Could it be---- - -He cried out, and shook Brick's shoulder in a sudden frenzy. "It's not a -star!" he screamed. "It's--it's a light! A light up there, Brick!" - -"Never get back," moaned the injured boy drearily. "It's a long way from -Lenape we are----" - -"Wake up, Brick! I tell you, I see something up there. It looks like a -tower of some kind. Brick, we've got to get there now!" - -But Brick Ryan was beyond caring. He did not even stir as he was lifted -in the arms of a haggard, wild-eyed lad whose heart burned with new -hope. Saving his breath, Dirk made no further effort to speak. The body -of his comrade hung in his arms, a leaden weight, as he stumbled -forward, his muscles crying out in weariness, his teeth clenched in a -last despairing endeavor. - -A few hundred yards up the slope his feet touched a worn path, along -which was strung on tree-trunks a line of black wire, leading upward. It -was a telephone line. Somebody was up there, somebody who could give -them food, and fire, and a place to lie in peace and safety! - -"Cheer up, F. X. A. Ryan, my son!" Dirk murmured. "You're safe now, old -lad! Up we go!" - - -In the deck-house of the fire tower at Lookout, young Ugly Brown was -staring through the gathering twilight, scanning the slopes below -through a pair of field glasses lent to him by the young warden who -stood at his side. He was startled to hear a ringing cry from below, -among the trees bordering the trail. He could not make out the words, -but the tone was desperate. He was out through the trap-door in an -instant, and was half-climbing, half-sliding down the iron ladder that -hung from the steel cross-pieces of the tower. - -"Hey, go slow there, youngster!" the warden shouted down after him. -"You'll break your monkey neck!" - -Ugly did not answer. He had a feeling that he knew the voice that had -uttered the cry that had come floating up to him through the dusk. - -He leaped the last few feet at the bottom, and raced down the trail. -From the dimness of the woods, a strange pair staggered toward him--one -ragged, stumbling ghost bearing another, a limp form in his arms, -marching onward with the high valor that will not admit defeat. - -"It's Van Horn!" Ugly shouted joyfully. "Say, what's the matter with -Brick? We thought you guys were drowned, but Sagamore Carrigan wasn't -sure, and all the bunch has been huntin' for you all day----" He broke -off sharply, and rushed forward to support the tottering figures. - -The young fire warden, who had only delayed in his tower to snatch a hot -thermos bottle and a pair of blankets, came to his assistance, and -together they knelt over the two exhausted wanderers where they had -slipped to the ground. - -Dirk felt himself lifted up. The steaming aroma of hot coffee was under -his nose, and a strange voice was ordering him to drink. The hot fluid -burned his tongue, but sent new life coursing through his veins. - -He pushed away the mouth of the bottle, and sat up. "I'm all right," he -croaked. "Look after Brick. His ankle's hurt pretty bad, and it got -worse because we had to hike." - -"He'll be all right," came an answer. "The fire warden will fix him up -pretty quick. Do you know me, Van? It's Ugly Brown. Gee, this has sure -been an exciting trip! I bet none of the other gangs that went on the -Long Trail ever had as much fun as we're havin'!" - -"It may have been fun to you, Ugly, but Brick and I have had a tough -time of it. Last night and today--I don't want to think about it! Every -minute we thought that half-breed Indian, Mink, was going to jump out on -us and take us back to be held for ransom." - -The fire warden, who had been working over Brick and making him as -comfortable as possible on a blanket, looked up from his task. - -"I was sure that's who it was, when the hut caught fire this morning," -he put in. "That is one bad Indian--or maybe I should say was. There's a -pretty good chance that he may not be in the land of the living -tonight." - -Dirk sat up suddenly. "You mean--he was--killed?" - -The man shrugged his shoulders. "That was a pretty bad blaze they had -down there at his shack. It would have been worse, only thank goodness -the woods were damp after the rain; otherwise our outfit would have had -a nice crown fire to fight today. Collins was patrolling down by the -lake, and had to call a general alarm. By the time he got there, the -whole clearing was burned over, and all that was left of the trapper's -cabin was a heap of cinders. The men are still on guard down -there--several acres were burned over." - -"And Mink--what happened to him?" - -"Nobody knows. If he wasn't burned to death, you can bet he's cleared -out of this country for good. You'll never be bothered with him again." - -Dirk laughed feebly. "And to think that all day we were running away -from a danger that didn't exist! We thought he was trailing us." - -The warden looked at him curiously. "You must be pretty done in." - -"We got lost, and couldn't find our way back to the lake." The boy -looked about him. "Where is this place, anyway, and how is it that -you're here, Ugly?" - -"This is the Lookout, where the fire tower is," explained the other boy, -alive with excitement. "If you get up on top of the hill here, you can -see for a million miles all over these mountains. The lake is right -below. You must have come around from the other side. Mr. Carrigan -looked at the canoe we found turned over. When he saw that all the stuff -was gone, he said he thought somebody had captured you. Then he found -where the bushes were tramped down, over on Flint Island. We couldn't do -much last night in the dark, but he got the chief warden to give us some -grub and a tent. Then, since early this morning, all of us have been -scoutin' around these woods, lookin' for signs of you. They ought to be -comin' in pretty soon. Boy, won't they be mad when I tell 'em I was the -one to see you first!" - -"We must tell my father," said Dirk. "Can anybody get word?" - -"Don't worry," answered the warden. "Soon as I get back up the tower, -I'll telephone to Yanceyville, and they can wire from there. He'll be -glad to hear. There was a chance that you two might have been caught in -the fire. Ever since Riccio was caught, we've had orders to hunt for -you." - -"Who's Riccio?" - -"Why, that's the name of the man that kidnaped you! You see, he turned -up at the telegraph office in Yanceyville this morning and sent a funny -message to your father. The telegraph man was suspicious, and as soon as -he left, he put the sheriff on his trail. It turned out that this Riccio -had a police record, and a bad one, too. He was arrested, and finally -admitted that he'd caught you and that Indian Mink had you in his shack. -He must have been a fool to try and get ransom money by telegraph. Well, -perhaps a fat jail term will teach him a lesson." - -"Then--then----" Dirk was bewildered. It seemed as if all their troubles -were ended. The half-breed dead or flown, his master in jail, and soon -the Lenape trailers would again be united. "Then everything's all right, -and tomorrow we can go on to the top of Mount Kinnecut----" He stopped, -for Ugly Brown could not conceal his amusement, and was laughing loudly. - -"Say, Van, how do you get that way? You're right on the top of Mount -Kinnecut at this very minute!" - -At the words. Brick Ryan stirred among his blankets and tried to sit up. -"Mount Kinnecut?" he mumbled. "Gollies, that's the place we got to find. -Dirk will help me get there, won't you, Dirk, my boy? Dirk's the best -guy that ever hit the trail, and I'll lick the bird that says he's not!" - -Dirk Van Horn leaned over and patted his friend's arm. "There, take it -easy, Brick! We're there, old chap--we're right on the top of old -Kinnecut, and you can go to sleep now." - -"Can't go to sleep! Got to do somethin'--can't climb, though, because I -got a bum leg. You'll do it, though, won't you, Dirk?" He fumbled at his -breast. - -"Do what?" the fire warden asked gently. "What must he do? Listen, you -come along with me now, and you'll soon be stowed away in bed." - -"No, I won't. Dirk's got to do it first! And it's right he should, too. -He's the best of all of us. I wanted to quit, but he fought along, game -as a bull-pup, and carried me. I won't move till I see him do it!" - -"I think I know what he means," said Dirk gently. "Shall I? I guess he -won't rest easy until it's done." He reached out and took the crumpled -bit of cloth that Brick was clutching. "Ugly, where is the tree that has -all the Lenape trailers' flags nailed to it?" - -"Why, it's right up the trail about a hundred yards. A big old dead -pine--you can't miss it. I'll go with you." - -"No, you stay here with Brick. I won't be long." - -Brick fell back, watching Dirk's face. "It's the honor of Lenape, Dirk!" -he whispered. "You brought us through. There's a couple nails in my -pocket. Good luck to you, pal!" - -Dirk clasped the outstretched hand, and ran up the trail alone. There -was the tall pine. A few wooden cleats were fastened on the lower part -of the trunk, leading up to the thick branches. As he swung himself -upward, all his weariness fell away from him like a cast-off garment of -care. Up, up he climbed, until he was among the smooth limbs of the -pine. Upward, above the tree tops that swept down before his eyes to the -sunset-dyed waters of Lake Moosehorn, that lay in a curving sweep far -below, with the red spark of a campfire on its banks to mark the -rallying place of the Lenape clan. Still he climbed. Now he was at the -very top of the world; in all directions stretched the unbroken -wilderness that he and his comrades had conquered. And now his hand -touched the lowermost of a string of tattered pennons that were nailed -to the peak of this mighty tree that others of the Lenape brotherhood -had scaled before him, in years gone. - -Dirk Van Horn smiled to himself, and waved a hand at his watching -partner far below. Then, still smiling, he drew a stone from his pocket, -and with a few resounding blows, nailed a bit of green and white bunting -in its place. A finger of light, the last ray of the dying sun, tipped -the little banner with gold, as the honor of Lenape fluttered bravely in -the evening breeze. - - - THE END - - - - - Transcriber's Notes - - ---Copyright notice provided as in the original--this e-text is public - domain in the country of publication. - ---Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and - dialect unchanged. - ---In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the - HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.) - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Camp Lenape on the Long Trail, by -Carl Saxon and Arthur Grove Day - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAMP LENAPE ON THE LONG TRAIL *** - -***** This file should be named 54630.txt or 54630.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/6/3/54630/ - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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