The Banner Boy Scouts on a Tour; or, The Mystery of Rattlesnake Mountain — Story, Setting & Ideas

There was a slight crackling sound, which was caused by the sudden drawing of a match along Paul's trousers. Instantly a tiny flame sprang into existence; and every eye was strained to discover the cause of the groan.

As the match burned, and the light grew stronger, the boys discovered that some one lay upon the floor inside the glass enclosed office, and close to the desk where Mr. Clausin usually sat. Paul, looking further, had seen that there was a lamp on the stand, and knowing the need of some better means of illumination than a succession of matches, instantly moved forward, and started to remove the chimney of this.

It was still a trifle warm, showing that the light must have been blown out not more than a couple of minutes previously.

Meanwhile, Joe had thrown himself on the floor beside the prostrate form, which he had already recognized as that of his father. He was chafing his hands, and calling out in boyish agony, while Jack and Bobolink looked on with troubled faces.

Paul saw immediately that either Mr. Clausin must have had a fit while alone, possibly just after he had blown out the lamp, or else some one had attacked him. His collar and necktie were disarranged, and there was a nasty bruise on the side of his head; though this might have come when he fell to the floor.

"If we had some water we might bring him to," observed Paul, when the man on the floor groaned again, more dismally than before.

"Back of the safe there is a bucket, with a dipper!" said Joe, eagerly.

Fortunately some water remained in the pail, and Paul was able to fill the dipper. It was just then he noticed the door of the little safe, and saw that it was open. This was strange, if the owner of the store had been about to leave when he was seized. And supposing he had fallen in a fit, who had put out the lamp?

No sooner had he applied the cold water than it seemed to have a magical effect on the unconscious man. He gasped two or three times, while a tremor ran through his whole frame. Then his eyes suddenly opened.

"Father!" almost shrieked poor Joe, who had begun to believe that he was never again to be blessed by communion with his parent.

"Joe! What has happened? Where am I?" and as he muttered these words Mr. Clausin managed to sit up, staring around him in a way that at another time might have seemed almost comical, so great was his surprise.

"You told me to come here, and that you would wait for me," declared his son; "when we got to the store it was all dark, and the door stood half open. Then we heard you groan, father. Oh! what was it? Did you have another of those awful spells?" Joe still kept on rubbing his hand affectionately down the sleeve of his parent's coat.

"Yes, it must have been that, my boy," the dazed storekeeper answered. "I seem to remember starting to get up to put a little box in the safe, for it was about the time you said you would be along. Then it all grew dark around me. I think I fell, for I seem to remember hearing a crash. And my head feels very sore. Yes, I have bruised it badly. Perhaps it was a mighty good thing you boys came along when you did."

"Oh! that was terrible, father," cried Joe; "but at first we thought some one had been in here to rob you. That door being open worried me. I never knew you to leave it that way when you stayed here at night."

"What's that you say, my boy?" asked Mr. Clausin, hastily; "the door was open when you came? But I distinctly remember that it was not only shut, but latched on the inside! I expected you to knock, and let me know when you came along."

He still seemed half in a daze, as though the blow he had received in falling might have affected him. While speaking, however, Mr. Clausin managed to regain his feet, partly supported by his son's arm.

"Wait until I close my safe, and then I'll go home with you, Joe," he said; "the doctor told me I ought to take a little rest, and that I was working too hard. It looks as if he must have been right. But I'm glad you came along when you did, for----"

He was bending down, and staring into the safe. Paul watched him uneasily, for that open door worried the boy.

"What is it, father?" exclaimed Joe, as he saw the gentleman begin hastily to open several compartments in the metal receptacle, and Paul noticed that his hand shook as though with palsy.

"Look on the floor, boys, please. Tell me if you can see a small tin box anywhere. Of course I must have dropped it when I fell in that faint," Mr. Clausin was saying; but Paul fancied it was more to bolster up his own courage, than because he really believed what he observed.

The boys immediately set to work examining the floor of the office thoroughly. But none of them met with any success.

"How large a tin box was it, father?" continued Joe, presently.

"Some eight inches long, by half as many wide. Could I have misplaced it in any way?" and Mr. Clausin began to feel in his pockets. Once more he looked into the yawning safe.

"We don't seem to see it anywhere, sir," said Paul, who suspected what was coming.

The feed merchant stood up before them, with a very grave face. He was clasping both hands together in a nervous fashion.

"Then there is only one thing that can have happened, boys! I have been robbed while I lay here unconscious!" he said, solemnly, at which Bobolink gasped.

"Do you miss any money from your safe, sir?" questioned Paul, who seemed to be able to keep his head in this crisis.

"Fortunately I took my wife's advice this time," returned the owner of the feed store, "and deposited all I had in the bank this afternoon. Still, possibly the thief believed I would keep it here. Seeing that tin box, and suspecting that it might hold valuables, he has carried it off."

"Do you remember blowing out the lamp at all, sir?" asked Paul.

"I certainly did not," came the answer; "I can recollect seeing it as I arose. Then all grew dark!"

"That settles it. There must have been a thief here, then!" remarked Jack, with more or less awe, as he looked around the big storeroom beyond the glass enclosed office.

THE MYSTERY OF THE TIN BOX

"Give the assembly call, Number Three!"

Presently, in answer to Paul's order, the clear, sweet notes of a bugle sounded through the big gymnasium under the church. More than a score of lads of all sizes began to pass in from the outside, where they had been chattering like so many magpies; for it was now Summer, with vacation at hand.

After telling the bugler to sound the call for the meeting, Paul, who often had charge in place of the regular scoutmaster, Mr. Gordon, watched the coming of the boys through the open basement door.

"Everybody on hand to-night, I guess, Paul," observed his chum Jack, as he laid his hand on the shoulder of the leader of the Red Fox patrol.

Thus far there were three patrols in Stanhope troop. As the first to organize had chosen to be known as the Red Fox, it pleased the others simply to call their patrols by the names of Gray and Black Fox.

In one corner of the room reposed a splendid banner of silk, upon which had been sewn a wonderfully life-like representation of a fox's head done in colors. Strangely enough, to some it seemed red, while others were just as fully of the opinion that it could be called gray or black, so cleverly had the silken threads been arranged.

This banner was the one offered by the old Quaker, Mr. Westervelt, in the preceding Autumn, to be given to the troop that excelled in various scout tactics and knowledge. The contest had been confined to the three troops along the Bushkill River; and while both Aldine and Manchester carried off some honors, the boys of Stanhope had counted as many as both combined.

When the banner was presented to the winners their totem had been ingeniously fashioned upon its shimmering folds. Every member of Stanhope troop felt a thrill of pardonable pride whenever his eyes fell upon the proof of their efficiency.

"What makes you say that, Jack?" asked the young scout leader, smilingly, when he heard his chum comment on the full attendance.

"Oh! well," laughed the other, "you know the boys understand that we're going to discuss where we expect to spend our vacation this year. Every fellow is just wild to hear what the committee has settled on."

"I sent a communication I received from our absent scoutmaster over to where the committee sat the other night," remarked Paul. "He recommended a certain place for a hike and camp; but I'm just as much in the dark as the rest about what was decided. William does a lot of mysterious winking every time anybody asks him, and only says, 'wait'."

Paul did not seem to be at all concerned. He evidently had full confidence in the wisdom of the committee that had been appointed by himself at the last meeting.

"Why, yes," Jack went on, "and Jud Elderkin, as the scout leader of the Gray Foxes, tried to get Andy Flinn to leak a little; but it was no use. Andy would joke him, and tell all sorts of funny stories about what we _might_ do; but it was just joshing. I'm a bit curious myself to know."

"Have you heard anything more about Mr. Clausin?" asked Paul, seriously.

"I guess nobody has found out much about what was in that tin box," replied his chum. "Even Joe says he only knows there were valuable papers of some sort, which his father is broken-hearted over losing. You know Mr. Clausin has been just about sick ever since it happened."

"Yes," Paul went on, "and three times now I've heard that the chief of police has been out there to confer with him. That makes me think Joe's father must have some sort of idea about who robbed him."

"Oh! well, the fellow will never be caught if it depends on Chief Billings," declared Jack, somewhat derisively; "I've known him to kick up a big row more than a few times, after something strange happened; but when did he get his man? Tell me that, will you, Paul?"

"Still, the Chief is a good police head. He can look mighty fierce, and generally scares little boys into being good," laughed the scout leader.

"But some others I know snap their fingers at him," Jack went on; "for instance, you understand as well as I do, that Ted Slavin and his crowd ride rough-shod over the police force of Stanhope. They have been threatened with all sorts of horrible punishments; but did you ever know of one of that bunch to be haled up before the justice?"

"Well, of course you know why," remarked Paul, drily, making a grimace at the same time to indicate his disgust.

"Sure," responded Jack, without the least hesitation; "Ward Kenwood, Ted Slavin's crony, stands pat with the Chief. His dad happens to be the richest man in Stanhope, and something of a politician. Ward threatens to get the Chief bounced from his job if he makes too much row, and you know it, Paul. The result is that there's a whole lot of bluster, and threatening; after which things settle down just as they were, and nobody is pulled in. It makes me tired."

"Oh! well," laughed the scout leader, "some fine day there will be a rebellion in Stanhope. Then perhaps we can put in a police head who will do his duty, no matter if the offender happens to be the son of a rich banker, or of a railroad track-tender."

"Shucks! that day will be a long time coming," said Jack, shaking his head in the negative, as if to emphasize his disbelief. "But do you know, I'm all worked up about that little tin box. There's something connected with it that Mr. Clausin hasn't told everybody. What could those papers have been; and why was he looking at them that night? Did the unknown robber come to the feed-store just on purpose to get hold of them? Was he especially interested in what that tin box held?"

Paul looked at his chum in surprise.

"You certainly have the fever pretty bad, old fellow," he remarked, "and to tell you the truth, I've been thinking along the same line myself. If half a chance offered I'd like to be the one fortunate enough to recover that box for Mr. Clausin. But of course there isn't the least bit of hope that way."

Paul could not lift the curtain of the future just then, and see what strange things were in store for himself and his chum. Had he been given only a glimpse of that future he would have been deeply thrilled.

"The boys are all assembled, Paul," observed Jack, presently.

Accordingly, the scout leader of the first patrol, and acting scoutmaster in the absence of Mr. Gordon, found that he had duties to perform. Paul, in spite of his wishes, had been elected president of the local council, Jud being the vice-president, Bluff treasurer and Nat Smith secretary.

The meeting was especially called for a certain purpose, and every fellow knew that the committee appointed to recommend what the programme for the vacation campaign should be, was about to make its report.

Consequently, other business lagged, and there was a buzz of excitement when, with the decks cleared, the chairman of the meeting called upon the spokesman of that committee to stand up.

William, the humorous member of the Carberry twins, immediately bounced erect; and it happened that he stood just under the framed charter granted by the National Committee to Stanhope Troop. Every eye was glued upon his face, for it had been a matter of considerable speculation among the scouts as to where they might "hike" for the Summer vacation, so as to have the most fun.

William was the exact image of his brother Wallace, though their dispositions could hardly have been more unlike. The former was brimming over with a high sense of humor, and dearly loved to play all manner of practical jokes. His greatest delight it seemed, was to pose as the steady-going Wallace, and puzzle people who looked to the other Carberry twin as an example of what a studious lad should be.

Still, William as a rule never reached the point of cruelty in his jokes; and in this respect he differed from Ted Slavin, who seldom counted the cost when carrying out some horse-play that had taken his fancy.

The spokesman of the committee looked around at the many eager faces, and then bowed gravely. William could assume the airs of a serene judge when the humor seized him. And yet in his natural condition he was the most rollicking fellow in the troop, being somewhat addicted to present day slang, just as Bobolink and some others were.

"Fellow members of the Banner Boy Scouts," he began, when a roar arose. "Cut that all out, William!"

"Yes, give us the dope straight. Where are we going to hike?"

"Hit it up, old war-horse! We want the facts, and we want 'em bad. Get down to business, and whisper it!"

William smiled as these and many other cries greeted him. It pleased him to keep his comrades on the anxious-seat a little longer; but when threatening gestures were beginning to prove that the patience of the assembled scouts had about reached its limit, he was wise enough to surrender.

So he held up his hand, with the little finger crossed by the thumb--the true scout's salute. Instantly the tumult ceased.

"Gentlemen," the chairman of the selected three went on, "this committee has decided, after much powwowing, and looking into all sorts of propositions, that the country to the north offers the best field for a record hike, and a camp in the wilderness; where the scouts can discover just how much they have learned this past Winter of woods lore. So it's back to the tall timber for us next week!"

"Wow! that sounds good to me all right!"

"But just what tall timber, Mr. Chairman? Tell us that, won't you?"

Once more William made the signal for silence, and every scout became mute. At least they had learned the value of obedience, and that is one of the cardinal virtues in a Boy Scout's ritual.

"This committee recommends that we hike away up to Rattlesnake Mountain," William went on to say, "and explore the country thereabouts, which has not been visited by a boy of Stanhope, in this present generation, at least. That is all for me; and now I'll skidoo!" with which the chairman dropped down into his chair again with becoming modesty.

Then arose a great uproar. Cheers rang out in hearty boyish manner, as though the committee had struck a popular fancy when it decided upon the neighborhood of Rattlesnake Mountain for the Summer camp.

This elevation could be seen from the town on the Bushkill. It had a grim look even on the clearest days; and there were so many stories told about the dangers to be encountered in that enchanted region that boys usually talked in whispers about a prospective trip of exploration there.

Thus far it was not on record that any of the Stanhope lads had ever wandered that far afield, every expedition having given up before the slopes of the lofty mountain were reached.

There were claims set forth by some fellows of Manchester, to the effect that they had climbed half way up to the crest, and met with many thrilling adventures among strange caves which they found abounding there. But Stanhope boys always smiled, and looked very knowing when they heard about this trip. They believed it originated mainly in the imaginations of those rivals from the nearby town.

It can be seen, therefore, with what elation the announcement of William was received. All felt that there was a glorious future beckoning them on. Boys delight in adventure; and surely the mysterious mountain that had so long been unknown ground to them, offered great possibilities.

Every one seemed to have some particular way of expressing his satisfaction.

"The greatest thing ever!" exclaimed Albert Cypher, who by reason of his name, was known among his comrades as Nuthin.

"Yes, all to the good! Back to the woods for me, and old Rattlesnake Mountain to be the stamping ground for the Banner Boy Scouts!" chirped Bobolink, making his voice seem to come from Wallace Carberry, who was never known to indulge in the least bit of slang. Bobolink was trying hard to be a ventriloquist, and occasionally he succeeded in a way to bring roars of laughter from the crowd.

"W-w-whoop her up!" chanted Bluff Shipley, whose impediment of speech often gave him much trouble, especially when he was at all excited.

One by one the assembled scouts were expressing their individual opinions concerning the proposed pilgrimage, when Paul put it up to the meeting to ratify.

A storm of "ayes" greeted the move that this report of the committee be accepted; and the "hike" to Rattlesnake Mountain be made the basis of their Summer campaign.

Hardly had the roar of voices that followed this acceptance died away than there was a sudden and startling interruption to the proceedings. A sentinel, who, in accordance with military tactics, had been posted outside the church, came hurrying in, and whispered in the ear of the chairman, who immediately arose.

"Comrades," said Paul, in a low but tense voice, "our sentry reports that he has found a window in the back of the church basement open, and looking in discovered moving figures. Our meeting has been spied upon by those who want to learn our secrets."

"It's sure that Slavin bunch, fellows! Come on, and let's get our hooks on the sneaks before they fade away!" shouted Bobolink, jumping to his feet excitedly.

BREAKING UP THE SCOUTS' MEETING

Upon the silence of the Summer night sounded the startling detonation of the big bell in the square tower of the church.