The Boy Scouts' Mountain Camp, Page 4

  CHAPTER IV. THE NARRATIVE CONTINUED.

  "But it appeared that even while on his deathbed the man had been playinga dishonest game. Before he had made his bargain with me, he had revealedthe secret and tried to sell it to a certain money-lender at a seaport inMaine. This man had refused to have anything to do with what he thoughtwas a chimerical scheme, but later confided the whole thing to a friendof his by name Stonington Hunt--a former Wall Street man, who had beencompelled to quit in disgrace the scene of his financial operations."

  "Stonington Hunt!" gasped Rob, leaning forward in his chair, while theothers looked equally amazed.

  "Yes, that was the name. Why, do you know him?"

  "Know him, Major!" echoed Mr. Blake. "He was concerned in some rascallyoperations in this village not so long ago. That he left here under acloud, was mainly due to activities of the Boy Scouts, whose enemy hewas. We heard he had gone to Maine. Is he engaged in new rascality?"

  "You shall hear," pursued the major. "Well, as I said, this seaportmoney-lender told Stonington Hunt of the chart and cipher and the olddiary recording the burial of the treasure. Hunt, it would seem, placedmore importance on the information than had the money-lender, for heagreed, provided the latter would help to finance an expedition, to tryto solve the cipher, or else have some expert translate it. He set out atonce for Brooklyn, arriving there, as I subsequently learned, just afterI had departed with the diary and the papers which young Jarley hadcarried in his sea-chest for some years.

  "He lost no time in tracing me, and offered me a large sum for thepapers. But my interest had been aroused. For the sake of the adventureof the thing, and also to clear up the mystery, I had resolved to gotreasure hunting myself. With this object in view, I rented a bungalow ona lake not far from the range in which I suspected the treasure cave lay,and devoted days and nights trying to solve the cipher. At this time acollege professor, an old chum of mine, wrote me that his health wasbroken down, and that he needed a rest. I invited him to come and visitme in Essex County, at the same time suggesting that I had a hard nut forhim to crack. Professor Jeremiah Jorum arrived soon after, and his healthpicked up amazingly in the mountain air. One day he asked about 'the hardnut.' I produced the cipher, and told him something of its history.Perhaps I should have told you that Professor Jorum has devoted a gooddeal of his life to what is known as cryptology--or the solving ofseemingly unsolvable puzzles. He had translated Egyptian cryptograms andinscriptions left by vanished tribes on ruins in Yucatan and Old Mexico.

  "He worked for several days on the cipher, and one day came to me with aradiant face. He told me he had solved it. No wonder I had failed. It wasa simple enough cipher--one of the least complex, in fact--but thelanguage used had been Latin, in which my ancestor, as a well-bredEnglishman of that day, was proficient. As he was telling me this, Inoticed a man I had hired some days before, hanging about the openwindows. I ordered him away, and he went at once. But I had gravesuspicions that he had overheard a good deal more than I should havewished him to. However, there was no help for it. I dismissed the matterfrom my mind, and we--the professor and I--spent the rest of the daydiscussing the cipher and the best means for recovering the treasure. Weagreed it would be dangerous to take men we could not absolutely trust,and yet, we should require several people to organize a properexpedition.

  "But, as it so happened, all our plans had to be changed that night. Iwas awakened soon after midnight by a noise in my room. In the dim lightI saw a figure that I recognized as our gardener, moving about. The lampbeside my bed had, for some reason, not gone out when I turned it down onretiring, and I soon had the room in a blaze of light. The intrudersprang toward me, a big club in his hand. I dodged the blow and grappledwith him. In the struggle his beard fell off, and I recognized, to myamazement, that our 'gardener' was Stonington Hunt himself.

  "The shock of this surprise had hardly been borne in upon me when thefellow, who possessed considerable strength, forced me back against thetable. In the scuffle the lamp was upset. In a flash the place was in ablaze. Hunt was out of the room in two bounds. He seized the key, as hewent, and locked the door on the outside, thus leaving me to burn todeath, or chance injury by a leap from the window, which overhung a cliffabove the lake. I had just time to throw on a few clothes and grab thepapers, which I had luckily placed under my pillow, before the flamesdrove me out. The wood of the door was flimsy, and without bothering totry to force the lock, I smashed out a panel. Crawling through, I arousedmy friend Jorum and my old negro servant, Jumbo.

  "We saved nothing but the precious papers, but as the bungalow wasroughly furnished, I did not much care. We made our way to a distanthouse and stayed there the night. The next day we took a wagon to theshore of the lake and went by boat to Whitehall. There we embarked on atrain for Albany, where my daughter was at the home of friends. I, too,have a residence there, but, having received an invitation from friendsto visit them on Long Island, I decided to give my little girl a motortrip.

  "But while in Albany I perceived I was being followed, and by the two menwhom you have described to me as taking part in the filching of thewallet. I thought I had thrown them off, however, but your adventureto-day proves that I have not been as successful as I hoped. The mostunfortunate part of it is that the cipher was in that wallet."

  "And it's gone," groaned Tubby dolorously.

  "I'm not so sure of that. I am hopeful that we may recover it," said theretired officer. "I have wired my friend Jorum, who, with Jumbo, is nowin New York, and I am in hopes that he can recollect something of histranslation of the cipher. If not--well, there's no use crossing bridgestill we come to them."

  "If you do recover it?" asked Rob.

  "If I do, I am going to ask your parents to let me borrow a patrol of BoyScouts to aid in the treasure hunt," smiled the major.

  "My dear Major," cried Mr. Blake, holding up his hands, "Mrs. Blake wouldnever consent to----"

  "But there would be such a lot of fun, dad," urged Rob. "Think of a campin the mountains. We'd have to camp, wouldn't we, Major?"

  "Certainly. It would be a fine opportunity for you to perfect yourselvesin----"

  "Woodcraft," said Tubby.

  "Signaling," put in Merritt.

  "I've got a field wireless apparatus I'd like to try out," put in Hiram,his voice a-quiver with eagerness.

  "Well, the first thing to be done is to recover that cipher," said themajor; "at present all we know of it is that it is in the hands of tworascals."

  "In the employ of another rascal, Stonington Hunt," put in Rob.

  "Well, we can do nothing more to-night," said the major.

  "No. We were so interested in your story that I think none of us noticedhow the time flew by," said Mr. Blake, and Mrs. Blake, entering justthen, announced that there was supper ready for the party in thedining-room. Tubby's eyes glittered at this news.

  Soon after the sandwiches, cakes and lemonade had been disposed of, theBoy Scouts set out for home, agreeing to meet the major next morningafter breakfast.

  They had not gone many steps from the house when Tubby stopped assuddenly as if he had been shot.

  "Gingersnaps!" he exclaimed. "I've just thought of something."

  "Goodness! Must hurt," jeered Merritt unsympathetically.

  "No--that is, yes--no, I mean," sputtered the fat boy. "Say, fellows, Iheard this afternoon that Sam Phelps from Aquebogue told a fellow in thevillage that he had seen Freeman Hunt over there this morning."

  "You double-dyed chump," exclaimed Rob, who was walking a way with them,"and you never said anything about it. If Freeman was there, I'll bet hisfather was, too, and that's where those two men have gone."

  "Gee whiz, if they have they must be there yet, then!" exclaimed Merritt,excitedly, "unless they left by automobile."

  "How's that?" demanded Rob.

  "It's this way. There was no train after those chaps took the wallet,till almost eight o'clock. They must have h
idden in the woods and caughtit some place below, unless Si arrested them."

  "He'd have been at the house to get the reward if he had," rejoined Rob.

  "Very well, then. He didn't catch them, and if the Hunts are atAquebogue, that's where they've gone."

  "Yes, but what's to prevent them leaving there?"

  "No train after nine-thirty till to-morrow morning, and the eight o'clockfrom here doesn't get to Aquebogue till after that time; so they must bestranded there, unless they have a car."

  "Cookies and cream cakes! That's right!" cried Tubby, "let's phone thepolice at Aquebogue to look out for them."

  But the lads found that the wire between Hampton and Aquebogue wasn'tworking. The telegraph office was closed. They exchanged blank glances.

  "What are we going to do?" demanded Tubby.

  "What all good scouts ought to do--the best we can,"--rejoined Rob.

  "And that is, under the present circumstances?" questioned Merritt.

  "To go to our garage--Blenkinsop's--on Main Street, and get out the car."

  "It'll be closed," rejoined Tubby.

  "I've got a key," replied Rob; "I'll 'phone the house that I'm going fora night spin. We can get there, notify the police, and be back in twohours."

  "Forward, scouts!" ordered Merritt, in sharp, "parade-ground" tones, "and'Be Prepared' for whatever comes along."

  Rob found that the telephone to his home was also out of order, owing torepairs which were being rushed through by night. So ten minutes later,when the car glided out of the garage on Main Street and slipped silentlythrough the sleeping town, there was nobody in Hampton who knew the BoyScouts' night mission.