"But ther ought tuh be three, I tells yuh," insisted the bound boy; "wun two-year old, another built larst season, and the last un just this Spring. Yessir, three on 'em in all."

"Well, I gueth your old boat took a notion to go to the bottom then, Johnny," asserted Ted, "becauth there are only a pair floating there, I give you my word."

"They was every wun thar yist'day," persisted Johnny.

"Are you sure of that?" Elmer asked him.

"Well, my name's Johnny Spreen, ain't it?" demanded the other, grimly; "I'm workin' out my time with Mister Trotter hyar, ain't I? Then I still got two eyes, and I ain't turned loony yit by a long shot. I tell yuh, Elmer, I handled three skiffs yist'day—seen as they was tied securely. And now yuh tells me they be but two."

"Yes, that's a fact," the patrol leader assured him.

"All right then, they gut one, thet's boz."

Elmer expected some such result as this, so after all he did not seem to be very much staggered.

"I suppose by 'them' you mean the chicken thieves, Johnny?" he remarked.

"No other."

"But if the man has been moving around in the swamp for a couple of weeks, more or less, could he do without a boat all that time?" continued the leader.

"I guess he cud, Elmer, though w'en yuh wants tuh trap muskrats yuh need sum sort o' craft the wust kind. P'raps he didn't chanct tuh run across our skiffs up tuh last night. Then agin mebbe he was askeered tuh snatch one, fur fear we'd hunt arter it, an' bother him in the swamp."

"All right, Johnny, I believe you're barking up the proper tree," said Elmer; "but it looks as if the man changed his mind last night, and took a boat."

"Yep, an' by gosh! the newest one o' the lot, too!" groaned the bound boy, as he led them closer to where the other skiffs floated, secured to stakes.

"After all that row," suggested Lil Artha, "it might be they thought we'd give a quick chase, and they couldn't afford to take any more chances. So as a boat'd come in handy for them they gobbled it."

"Anybody'd pick the best in the bunch, come to that," added wise Toby.

"I don't know about that," Mark went on to say; "a really smart fellow would be apt to reason that if he took only the old tub the owner mightn't think it worth while to make much of a hunt for it, not caring whether he got the same again or not."

"I consider that sound reasoning, Mark," observed the patrol leader, who was never happier than when he found some of his followers displaying good judgment in such matters. "But the boat's gone, and our next duty is to take a look around the bank before we get to trampling things up too much. We ought to make sure of things by finding that marked track again."

"It can be done as easy as turning a handspring," vowed Toby Jones, as all of them immediately spread out, fan-shape, like hounds that had lost the scent temporarily, and were searching for it again.

Hardly half a minute had gone when there was an exultant cry raised.

"Didn't I say so?" demanded Toby, triumphantly; "but I never thought Landy of all fellows'd be the one to find the trail."

"Oh! sometimes queer things do happen in this world," asserted the fat scout, swelling with his triumph; "they say the race ain't always to the swift. But take a look, everybody, and see if I'm right."

They looked and unanimously pronounced Landy's judgment correct. There was the imprint of a shoe, a left shoe in the bargain, beyond doubt, and anyone who had eyes could detect that diagonal mark running across the sole, which Landy had pointed out before as the line of the new leather, placed there while he waited for Hen Condit in the Italian cobbler's shop.

"As plain as the nose on your face, Landy!" admitted Lil Artha, with a trifle of disappointment in his voice, for he had calculated on discovering the tracks himself, and for one who was next door to a greenhorn to do it humiliated the tall scout.

"No personal remarks, please, Lil Artha," said Landy; "I know my nose isn't as prominent as yours, and some others in the crowd, but it answers my purpose all right, and I'm not ashamed of it."

"Well, now we know where we're at," remarked Ted, with a satisfied air, as though it might be a maxim with him to always start right.

"And it's up to us to divide our forces, choose our boats, and make a start," Mark Cummings was saying.

"Ginger! don't I on'y wish I cud be goin' along!" said Johnny Spreen with an expression on his face that could only be described as compound disappointment.

"All of us would be glad if you were, Johnny," Elmer told him, feeling for the boy, whose company would certainly be of considerable help to the expedition, for Johnny knew the watery paths and the tangles of Sassafras Swamp as, perhaps, no other fellow possibly could, since he had long haunted its recesses, laying traps, and looking for new haunts of the wily muskrats.

"As there are seven of us, all told," remarked Lil Artha, "that means three in one boat, and four in the other. Elmer, you divide up. This newer skiff looks to me just a weenty bit the bigger."

"It is by a foot, and wider, too," asserted Johnny, quickly.

"Then it ought to carry four, of course; but how's this, Johnny, where are the oars for both craft; I don't see any!"

"Shucks! we don't use oars in the ole swamp," declared the other. "A push pole's the best way tuh git along. Yuh see it's soft mud everywhar, and so we cuts poles with a crotch at the end. That keeps 'em frum sinking deep in the mud, so yuh kin git a chanct tuh shove."

"And a mighty good idea, too," avowed Toby; "I've had a little experience with just plain everyday push poles, and even got hung up when one stuck in the mud, so the boat left me. But Elmer, how'll we divide?"

The patrol leader glanced over his force. It was only fair that he arrange it so the weight would be as nearly equal as possible.

"Lil Artha, take Mark and Landy in the smaller skiff; the rest will go with me," he announced immediately.

Mark was the nearest chum of the patrol leader, but Elmer disliked favoritism, and hence he thus tacitly placed Lil Artha in command of the second boat. But then there was also another good reason for doing this, since the tall scout had always shown himself to be clever on the water, much more so than the bugler of the troop.

Johnny was already showing them how to pull the skiffs in by means of a rope attached to each. It was a good way of mooring them when not in use.

"Yuh see the third boat was drawed up on the shore here," he remarked in a disconsolate tone; "'cause I was ausin' her right along. I guess that's the reason they took the best o' the lot."

When the two boats had been brought to the shore, packs were distributed in the same, according to the directions of the leader. These were not hastily tossed aboard, but placed where they would be out of the way of the one who was using the long push-pole.

"Thank goodneth we've got our camp hatchet along," remarked Ted, as he took his place, "tho even if we do lose or bweak our pole we can alwayth cut another one."

"Yep, I never go intuh the swamp without my hatchet," asserted Johnny. "Yuh see it comes in mighty handy when yuh want tuh make a fire, or cut a way through sum tangled snarl o' brush. Then, besides, I find a use fur the same in setting traps, fur mushrats ain't ther on'y kind o' fur we bags araound these diggings."

Some of the boys might have liked keeping up the talk, especially when it bordered on such an interesting subject. Elmer, however, knew that time was valuable to them just then, with such a difficult task ahead. They had to find two parties who were secreted somewhere in the swamp; and as Lil Artha declared it was "pretty much like looking for a needle in a haystack."

Johnny stood there on the bank, and waved his hat to the scouts as he watched them poling away. They could almost imagine they heard the tremendous sigh that came from his breast as he saw a glorious chance for real fun pass from his grasp.

"Good-bye, an' good luck tuh yuh all!" he called out.

Following the serpentine passage of clear water, the two boats soon passed from the sight of the bound boy, though doubtless he could still hear gurgling sounds as the push-poles were worked, and the flat prows of the skiffs passed over the numerous water-lily pads.

And now the swamp was before them.

All of the scouts surveyed the scene with lively anticipations. They could easily understand that the immediate future might throw all manner of strange adventures across their path, and, like most boys, Elmer and his chums were ever hungry for exciting things to happen—it was in the blood.

But, then, at first the borders of the big Sassafras Swamp did not look so very forbidding. Elmer warned them not to expect that this condition of affairs would last long.

"You remember what Johnny told us," he remarked so that all of them could hear his words; "it keeps getting worse the further you go in. Things are easy to begin with, but after a while we'll have our hands full. Above all things we must keep our heads about us, for if we do that we'll escape getting lost."

"Then Johnny did admit a fellow could get lost in this place, did he?" inquired Landy, uneasily.

"He used to lose his way often when he first started coming in here after muskrats," confessed Elmer; "and then he began to have some system about his excursions so that by degrees he got it all down pat."

"Yes, Johnny said he believed he could pole a boat pretty much into the heart of Sassafras with his eyes shut or bandaged," remarked Lil Artha.

"Too bad he couldn't get off and be along with us," lamented Landy; "and Elmer, if we'd only promised Farmer Trotter five dollars a day he'd have let his help join us, I'm sure of that."

"Huh! too bad you didn't think of that before, Landy, and put it up to Elmer," jeered Lil Artha; "but I wouldn't bother too much about it if I was you. Chances are we won't get lost much; and by the same token, even if we do it'll be some kind of a sensation to wake us up."

Landy scratched his head, but not knowing how much of this was intended by his tormentor he did not reply. As they were gradually working further into the dense growth by now there was enough around them to chain their attention and arouse their interest.

In some places they could see that the shore stood above the sluggish water, although covered for the most part with dense shrubbery that would be difficult to pass through. Channels began to be met with running to the right and left, so that it behooved Elmer to remember the explicit directions given by the muskrat trapper if he wished to avoid getting side-tracked in the start.

Lil Artha, in the other boat, was also using his knowledge of woodcraft to some purpose. When it happened that the two skiffs came alongside he called out to Elmer, as if to settle some point he had in mind.

"Even if I hadn't listened when Johnny was laying down the law to us about the main channel in here, Elmer, I reckon I'd had no trouble stickin' to the same, up to now, anyhow."

"Why tho, Lil Artha?" asked Ted Burgoyne.

"It's just this way," continued the other, briskly, as though only too willing to show his hand, "you see Johnny has followed the same passage in here so often now he's actually gone and left a trail behind him."

"Say, what are you giving us, Lil Artha?" demanded Toby; "on shore a trail is all very well, but the water leaves none. Once it settles down after a boat's passed, I defy anybody to tell a thing about the same."

Lil Artha grinned as though he really pitied the dense ignorance of some people.

"You've got another think coming, Toby," he said, drily. "I suppose if you sat down and racked your poor brain a whole week you'd be no nearer knowing what I mean, so I'll have to explain."

"Guess you will, that," muttered Toby; "if you know yourself what you're getting at, which I doubt."

"Looky there," said the skipper of the second skiff, "do you notice that where we make this turn to the left the bushes along the point are kind of frayed, like something had rubbed against 'em a heap of times?"

"Why, yes, it does seem so," admitted Toby, reluctantly.

"All right then," continued Lil Artha; "if you'd kept your eyes about you all the while you'd seen that same thing at near every turn. Trying to cut short when he poled along, Johnny has left a track of his passage at every bend. I always look sharp, and I can tell as easy as falling off a log whether he went on, or cut into another passage. And Elmer will bear me out on that explanation, too!"



CHAPTER VIII

PICKING UP CLUES

The leader of the Wolf Patrol laughed when he heard Lil Artha make this remark.

"Every word that you are saying, Lil Artha, is the truth," he announced. "I've been watching those ragged edges of bushes myself. You see, the time might come after a while when I'd get mixed on the directions given by Johnny Spreen. Then I'd want to have some other scheme so as to find my way."

"But after a bit, Elmer, we'll get to a spot where Johnny changed his course from one day to another, as he went to different traps; how're we meaning to regulate our hunt then?" asked Toby.

"We've got to search the best way we can for the missing skiff," Elmer explained. "If only we can find it hauled up somewhere on the bank we'll know they went ashore at that point, don't you see?"

"Why, how eathy!" declared Ted, evidently lost in admiration for the simplicity of the scheme, that could never have occurred to him before.

"Oh! then, if that's the case I reckon we'd better not be making quite so much racket as we go along," said Mark.

"I was just going to remark about that," the patrol leader added. "If all of a sudden we found the boat, and had been talking loud, or laughing, the chances are the game would give us the slip. So after this whoever is doing the pushing try not to splash more than you can help; and when you talk do it in whispers."

Perhaps all this mystery added to the pleasure of such a fellow as Lil Artha; at least his eyes were sparkling much more than their wont as he continued to ply his pole with the air of a Venetian gondolier along the Grand Canal.

Once, however, he must have rammed it too hard into the yielding ooze, for when he tried to pull it out there was considerable resistance. Lil Artha managed to stop the moving skiff in time to save himself; even then he might have been pulled overboard only that watchful Mark, anticipating something of the sort, threw his arms around the long legs of the pusher, and held on grimly until the pole could be extricated.

An hour, two of them had slipped by since parting from Johnny Spreen. They were now in the heart of the swamp. All around them lay a solemn silence broken only by the splash of a bullfrog leaping from a bank, the gurgle of some water snake or the solemn croak of a bittern fishing near by, followed by the flap of its wings as it flew away, alarmed by their approach.

All of the boys were more or less impressed by this strange silence. It seemed as though some heavy weight were pressing down upon them. Toby even whispered to one of his mates that it could hardly be worse if they were passing through a country graveyard at midnight.

At the same time, all of them being bright, wide-awake fellows, there were plenty of interesting things continually cropping up to arouse their interest as scouts. Every minute or so someone was calling attention to this or that thing, though never forgetting the need of caution.

If at any time a voice was raised more than Elmer deemed wise, a single "hist" from his lips caused the speaker to moderate his tones instantly.

By now they were not so much concerned about where they went as the possibility of finding the missing skiff. Eager eyes were ever on the alert. A number of times Lil Artha, or it might be Toby or Chatz, felt a sudden thrill as some object caught their attention ahead, which at first glance seemed to open up great possibilities. Then as they moved closer and a better chance came to investigate, deep disappointment and chagrin would follow; for after all it turned out to be only the end of a log, or some such simple thing, and not the stern of the old skiff at all.

Elmer happened to be a little ahead of the other boat at the time Chatz, consulting his nickel watch, found it was just ten o'clock. When he showed this to Toby the latter grinned as though very much pleased.

"I nominated ten, didn't I, Chatz?" he remarked in a low tone; "when you asked me to take a squint up at the sun, and say what the hour might be?"

"You certainly hit it that time in the bull's-eye, suh," admitted the Southern lad; "and I confess that I thought it half an hour later. I'm still some shy, it seems, on telling time by the sun and stars."

A low hiss from Elmer just then, as he wielded the pole, caused the two scouts to stop talking, and turn their attention to what was going on. The first thing they discovered was that the skiff was now heading for the near shore. Then looking further the boys could see that evidently someone must have camped there, for to the practiced eye many things indicated as much.

When the prow of the flat-bottomed boat ran gently up on the shore, at a low order from the skipper, Ted, who happened to be further up in the bow than any of the others, jumped to the land and began to draw the skiff up.

There was a bank several feet high just beyond, but Ted waited until the others had also disembarked before attempting to ascend this. By now the other boat had also reached shore, with its crew tumbling out, though avoiding any sign of confusion, for they were pretty well drilled in the elements of obedience to orders, as all true scouts should be.

No sooner had the boys gained the higher ground than they readily discovered that it had been the site of a camp at some time in the not far-distant past.

A number of things told them this, chief of which might be mentioned the little pile of dead ashes that lay in plain sight. They could even see the sticks that the unknown party had used when cooking some sort of meat close to the red coals.

All of them gathered around. Elmer gravely examined the ashes, while the others eagerly waited to hear his decision.

"Quite some time old," said the leader at last, having figured out the solution by means of certain rules well known to those who have made woodcraft a study. "At least a couple of rains have passed over since this fire was left. There are no footprints that I can see. That also goes to show it was some time ago; but I think it was only one person who camped here."

He pointed as he spoke to where soft hemlock browse had been gathered as if for the purpose of forming a couch; and there being but a single bed even Landy could guess Elmer was correct when he said one party had made the temporary camp.

"Then it must have been the unknown man," said Lil Artha, "and our chum Hen wasn't along at the time."

They moved around as if looking for further signs, because scouts are always keen to find tell-tale marks that will add to the size of the edifice they are building up, founded partly on conjecture and also on "give-away" facts.

Lil Artha it was who emitted a low whistle, and the others glancing up, well knowing that he must have made some sort of important discovery, saw him waving one of his hands to them—he held the Marlin double-barrel with the other, of course.

"See that?" he told them when they reached his side amidst the bushes adjacent to the little opening where the long-cold fire ashes lay.

"Feathers, for a cookey!" exclaimed Toby, "and a heap of the same, too."

"Now we know what he cooked on the ends of those sticks!" observed Mark.

"Yeth, and now we know where one of Farmer Trotter's henth went to," added Ted.

"This is more than Johnny ever ran across," remarked Lil Artha, "because he only guessed the chicken thief was hiding in the swamp, for he'd seen tracks. Hold on, he did say there was ashes, too, at the place he picked up that filed half-circle of steel, but it must have been in a different place from this."

"Well, it's only a little incident after all," said Elmer, "and doesn't tell us much that we didn't know before."

"Only that we're on the track of those lost chickens, you know," chuckled the tall scout. "But see here, Elmer, if they made a fizzle of their raid last night, how d'ye suppose they're going to keep from starving to death in here?"

"Ask me something easy, please," retorted the other; "though if I was in their place I think I could manage to keep alive. There are lots of ways for doing that, if you only stop to think."

"Sure there are," spoke up Toby, eager to show that he had learned his lesson fairly well, even though not claiming to be as expert at some things as were Elmer and Lil Artha. "Now, with some cord and a bait I reckon rabbits could be trapped or snared. Then gray squirrels are plenty in here, if only you found a nest of the same in a hollow tree."

"And," added Landy with a yearning vein in his voice, "haven't we seen whopping big green-back bullfrogs aplenty? If there's one dish I'm fond of more than any other, that's fried frogs' legs. Yum! yum, don't I wish we could spare the time to knock over a dozen of those bullies."

"Not while we're on such a duty as we started out to fulfill, Landy," Elmer advised the fat scout.

"Then there are fish in these waters, too, fat sunfish as big as any I ever set eyes on," continued Toby; "and when you're hungry they taste prime, though I hate the bones, and came near choking to death once on a sunny. Worse than pickerel, according to my mind, and that's saying a lot. Oh! I guess a smart fellow with matches to make fires, could manage to keep the wolf from his door in here all right."

"But all men are not up to one-tenth of the resources known to Boy Scouts," ventured Elmer, "which is why they generally have to rely on staving off hunger by raiding the chicken roosts of poor farmers. That'll be enough for this time. Suppose we get aboard again, and continue our exploration of Sassafras Swamp."

"It's a sure-enough big patch of mud and water and brush and mystery," admitted Mark, as they began to climb into the boats again as before.

"And from what Johnny told me we haven't seen as much as a tenth of the place yet," Elmer assured them; whereat there were all sorts of incredulous looks to the right and to the left, as though the magnitude of their task might by this time be making a stronger impression on the boys' minds.

A change was made in pushers as they started off once more. It turned out to be no child's play handling that long, heavy pole which had a faculty for clinging to the ooze below the surface of the water, and necessitating more or less exertion in order to drag it loose each time it was used.

Landy had not taken his turn as yet. It really looked as though Lil Artha was a little afraid of the fat scout, for he and Mark had alternated in doing the work. Landy was not complaining at all. Indeed, Lil Artha felt sure he could see a satisfied grin upon the rubicund face of the happy-go-lucky, fat scout from time to time as he heard the one at the pole puffing with the exertion.

Perhaps in the end it would prove to be a case of the "last straw on the camel's back," and Lil Artha, casting discretion to the winds, would feel impelled to thrust the push-pole into the inexperienced hands of Landy Smith. He was evidently putting off the evil hour as long as he could, fearful of consequences.

So noon came and found them well into the depths of Sassafras Swamp.

They went ashore to eat their lunch, Lil Artha begging that they have a small fire and make a pot of coffee.

"I c'n pick up aplenty of real dry wood, you know, Elmer," he went on to say in his wheedling way, "so that there ain't going to be hardly a whiff of smoke that anybody could see with a field glass. And say, when you're all tuckered out with pushing a boat through the grass and lily-pads, nothing makes you feel so fine as a brimming cup of coffee. So please say yes, Mister Scout Master!"

Of course, Elmer could not resist such a piteous plea as that.

"You could wring tears from a stone, Lil Artha," he told the other, laughingly, "when you put on a face like that. I reckon we might have a small cooking fire and a pot of coffee. None of us would object to it, and sandwiches are dry eating all by themselves, even when you're hungry. So go ahead; but no chopping, mind; break all the small stuff you gather over your knee."

Landy eagerly assisted, though Lil Artha kept a watchful eye on what he gathered lest he mix in green stuff that would make a black smoke when it burned. Another scout managed to find a stick with a crotch that would hold the coffee-pot over the blaze until it had boiled.

The scouts were not in the habit of putting up with such apologies for comfort as these; as a rule, when they camped out they had tents, blankets, and a little spider contraption that folded up in small compass, and which served as a gridiron stove, being placed over the red coals, with cooking utensils resting on the bars.

The coffee was thoroughly enjoyed by everyone, and a vote of thanks taken for Lil Artha, who had first suggested making it. Resting for a short time afterwards, the boys felt refreshed when once more the task was taken up.

Lil Artha looked at Landy tumbling contentedly into the middle of the old skiff, and seemed on the point of saying something; then he shook his head and picked up the push-pole himself.

"Not yet, but soon it's just got to be; only I hope he won't upset us all," Mark heard the tall scout mutter to himself, nor did he need a further hint to know what was passing through Lil Artha's mind; Landy was not going to evade his share of the arduous labor forever.

It, doubtless, took considerable thinking and planning on the part of Elmer to make sure they did not "repeat." So far, none of the boys could say as they moved along that they had ever before seen the stretch of water and scrubby shore, covered with trees and vines.

This spoke volumes for the smartness of the young patrol leader, though somehow his chums did not seem to consider it such a wonderful feat for Elmer. That is the penalty for being successful; others expect great things from such a comrade, so that he is constantly put to his best efforts to satisfy them.

It must have been quite some time, perhaps as much as two hours after they had stopped to eat their lunch when without warning the swamp explorers met with a surprise that gave them a new thrill.

At the time, Lil Artha happened to have passed a little in the lead, though he would soon be dropping back again, especially when there came a chance to make a mistake in direction, for he wanted Elmer to decide such puzzles.

The tall scout must have forgotten his warning from Elmer, for he cried out:

"Hey! everybody look what we're up against! A bear, Elmer, that's what it is!"



CHAPTER IX

THE PERILS OF THE WATER LABYRINTH

"Silence, everybody!" hissed Elmer, who knew it would be just like Toby, and perhaps some of the other fellows, to burst into a shout as soon as they could get command of their voices.

It was certainly a bear, a small one to be sure, but genuine enough, and not such as can be seen with wandering foreigners, taught to dance, or wield a pole as a soldier would his musket.

Just when the scouts glimpsed the hairy denizen of Sassafras Swamp, he was engaged in sitting on his haunches and gathering in the bushes with his sturdy forelegs. To Lil Artha, it looked as though Bruin might be making a lunch from the luscious, big blueberries that grew in such abundance here and there through the swamp.

Up to the moment when Lil Artha thus called attention to the presence of the black native, the bear must have been in ignorance of their being so near at hand. When he did notice them, he simply gave a disgusted grunt, and ambled away through the brush. Lil Artha always declared the bear glanced back at them as he ran, and even put out his tongue, just as if he knew it was the close season, and that a kind game law protected him from all harm.

"Say, let me tell you this old Sassy swamp isn't such a bad place for a game preserve after all," said Toby; "I think some of us could enjoy having a week up here, after the law on bears and all such was up. But it's too far from home during the school session, for us to come."

"Oh! I don't know about that," remarked the tall scout, meditatively; "we could borrow a car, and start in the middle of the night when there was a moon. That'd give us a whole day up here. Take it at Thanksgiving and we could make it three, with Friday and Saturday thrown in. Elmer, think it over, won't you?"

"Plenty of time for that," he was assured; "We've got our hands full as it is, without borrowing trouble."

"And perwaps before we're done with it," Ted croaked, "you'll be that tired of seeing nothing but thwamp all around, that you'll vow never again for yourth."

"I'm going to make a proposition, Elmer," said Landy; "and I hope you'll agree. Suppose we go ashore and tackle some of those elegant blueberries ourselves? It's a shame that bears should be the only ones to enjoy such a feast. And it's tough sitting here so long!"

At that Lil Artha grunted, and looking almost savagely at the speaker nodded his head while he muttered:

"That settles it, my boy; I see your finish. You're going to earn your salt after this, no matter what happens!"

Elmer seemed to consider for a few seconds.

"I see no reason why we shouldn't pull up for a little while, just as you say, Landy," he observed, to the delight of the rest; "and everyone of us is fond of a mess of good ripe blueberries. So pitch in while the supply lasts."

The berries were thicker and larger than any they had ever seen before; and Lil Artha declared he considered the judgment of the little black bear "prime."

"He sure knew a good thing when he found it, and so do we," he told those who were working fingers and jaws near him.

When Elmer concluded that "enough was as good as a feast," they once more embarked, and the voyage was resumed. There was a new pusher in the older skiff, however.

"Here, you Landy, suppose you change seats with me," Lil Artha had remarked as the fat scout started to settle down in the middle of the boat, just as though he had a mortgage on that prize seat.

Landy looked worried.

"What for, Lil Artha?" he ventured to say, looking at the skipper with distress plainly marked on his round features; "do you want me to push the boat now? Not but that I'm willing to do anything I'm asked, you know; but I didn't think you'd want to take chances on getting wet, and mebbe losing our packs in the bargain; because I know I'm awful clumsy about some things."

"Well, in this case we'll have to take the risk," said the other, grimly; "the only satisfaction we have is that if anybody does get wet you won't escape. We're all in the same boat, you understand; and we sink or swim together. Now climb up here, and I'll show you how to handle a pusher. Time you learned a few more of the tricks a true scout ought to know."

Landy, apparently, wanted to do his best. He watched how Lil Artha used the heavy pole and then started to imitate him.

"That's the way, Landy," said Mark, desirous of encouraging the stout boy in his new duties; "you can do it all right if you only keep on the watch."

"Course I can," replied the new hand, scornfully; "guess you're all fooled if you think I never pushed a skiff with a pole before."

"So you were just playing 'possum, were you?" demanded the indignant Lil Artha, "bent on fooling me so as to evade hard work, eh? I'd be serving you right, Landy, if I kept you shovin' away the rest of the afternoon. It'd thin you down a trifle, too, because I think you're getting too fat for any use. Go slow there, and don't splash so loud when you drop the pole end in again."

Landy seemed to soon become fairly proficient so that his mentor could turn his attention to other things of interest they happened to see around them as they continued their course.

Crows scolded from the treetops as the two boats glided underneath. This circumstance might probably pass unnoticed by one who knew little or nothing of woodcraft, but to an Indian it would be a sure sign that the sharp-eyed birds had discovered some human being, probably an enemy, and in that way he would be put on his guard against a surprise.

As the man they were looking for did not appear to be educated along these lines, they need not fear that their presence in the swamp would be betrayed through any such agency as crows cawing, or flying about in excitement.

Some time later Toby uttered a low "whew" that caused Chatz, just then in the act of putting the pole back into the water, to hold it suspended in midair.

"Elmer, I may be mistaken," said Toby, "but something moved over in the branches of that tree yonder, and unless my eyes deceived me, which they seldom do, it was a cat!"

"You mean a wildcat, don't you, Toby?" whispered Landy, for the two boats were close enough together for the occupants to have shaken hands, had they wanted to.

"Just what I meant," repeated Toby, firmly. "I can't say that I see him now, for he's somewhere up in the thickest part of the bushy tree; but it must have been something more than a 'coon, because I actually saw the blaze of its eyes!"

"Whew!" gasped Landy, looking as though he wanted to drop the push-pole on the spur of the moment; "get your gun, Lil Artha, why don't you? Mean to let a feller be jumped on, and clawed something awful, do you? I give you my word that if I see a wildcat comin' for me, I'll jump overboard, and let him tackle the rest of you in the boat, that's what. Get your gun, Lil Artha; they're vicious you must know, specially when they've got kits around."

"We haven't lost any cat!" remarked Lil Artha, composedly, as though he really took a cruel satisfaction in seeing Landy shiver; "and, besides, I don't more'n half believe the fairy story. Toby's got to show me before I own up. I reckon some of my people must have come from Missouri."

"Yes, they raise a heap of mules there, I understand," remarked Toby, with considerable sarcasm; "but I'm glad to see that Elmer has thought it worth while to lay hold of his scatter-gun, so as to be ready. Course we don't want any trouble with any old cat; but there's such a thing as armed peace. If she jumps for us, I hope Elmer will give her a load before she lands, that's all. We've got to pass pretty much under some part of that tree, understand?"

Acting on Elmer's initiative, Lil Artha now also picked up his gun, and started to keep a sharp watch. As Toby had truly said, they could not really continue on their way without passing under the wide-stretching branches of the tree where he claimed to have seen "something that looked like a wildcat."

"Get busy there, Landy, use your pole, and push us along. Don't stand there just like you were frozen stiff; we won't let any cat grab you, make up your mind to it. Get a move on you, I say, Landy Smith."

"Oh! well, might as well be killed for a sheep as a lamb, I reckon," muttered the fat scout as he started to make use of his push-pole.

For the time being, caution was thrown to the winds; all Landy considered was the rapidity with which he could get past that ominous tree containing Toby's bobcat.

Perhaps Landy's heart was beating a regular tattoo as he found himself actually compelled to pass under the tree itself, owing to the narrowness of the channel at just that part of the runway. Elmer, watching out of the tail of his eye, could see how pale the other had become, and he was secretly amused.

It was just like Lil Artha, when their skiff was directly under the suspected tree, to utter a low gasp, and proceed to elevate his gun in a hurry, as though sighting the quarry.

Poor Landy came very near having a fit; he dropped the pole overboard and fell backwards in the boat, which came near swamping. Toby, in the other craft, succeeded in rescuing the floating pole before it had gone completely beyond reach.

"Guess I was mistaken that time!" said Lil Artha, without cracking a smile, although no doubt he must have been secretly chuckling at the way the handler of the push-pole had shown alacrity in getting out of range.

So Landy, with a sheepish grin, managed to get on his feet again, and take the rescued pole from Toby's hands. He gave the tall scout a sharp look as though suspecting that it had been a trick intended to play upon his nerves. But then Landy was always a good-natured fellow, and never bore anyone ill-will, no matter what the joke might be of which he became the victim.

Toby could not be persuaded that he had not glimpsed a wildcat in that tree under which they passed. He kept staring back as long as it was possible to catch a view of its leafy branches.

"Well, say what you like," he concluded, "I did see something whisk out of sight up there; yes, and it had starey eyes in the bargain. If it was a 'coon, then all I can say is they breed queer 'coons up in this old Sassafras Swamp country. There now, that's about enough from me."

"The afternoon is nearly half gone, and we haven't scared up our quarry yet," advised Mark later on.

"Plenty of time, for there's another day coming," said Elmer. "We're here to comb the swamp through from end to end but what we'll find nobody knows. Keep listening, too. It might be possible we'd hear a shout that would give us a clue."

"Say now, I hadn't thought of that before," admitted Toby. "If Hen is being treated harsh-like by that unknown who's got hold of him, mebbe he might let out a yawp once in a while. There's no harm done in listening, I reckon, and Landy here could tell if it was him giving tongue."

Now and then some sound did come to their ears, but of an entirely different character from the one they were hoping to catch. A granddaddy bullfrog on some mossy log sent out loud and deep-toned demands for "more rum! more rum!" Then a saucy bluejay started in to scold the fellows in the boats for daring to trespass in its preserves, and how the angry bird did lay it on until they were well beyond reach of its chatter.

Once a far-away grumble floated faintly to their ears, at which there was an immediate comparing of opinions. Some seemed to incline to the belief that it must be distant thunder, and that they were bound to soon be caught in a storm, which had been creeping unnoticed up on them, the dense foliage by which they were surrounded preventing them from learning the fact sooner.

"If you asked me what it was," said Elmer, when he found that the others were not able to agree, "I'd be inclined to say we're not more than half a mile away from one side of the swamp, and that there's a farm lying yonder on which they keep a bull. I imagine it was his lowing we heard just then."

"Bully, say I, not meaning to be funny either," remarked Landy; "for I'd a heap sooner believe it was a bovine trying out his bazoo than a thunder-storm heading this way. It's bad enough to be in constant danger of getting ducked by falling overboard, without taking chances overhead in the bargain."

As they did not hear any repetition of the suspicious sound the scouts finally determined that Elmer had guessed right, and that there must be a stock farm not a great distance away from the border of the swamp.

The more they pushed on into what seemed the interminable recesses that surrounded them the greater became their wonder as to how they were to find those they sought. The chances seemed very much against them; but then they had an abounding faith in Elmer's sagacity; and he seemed to be determined on persevering. Doubtless, too, the others reasoned to themselves, Elmer had some clever plan laid out which would be sprung when the proper time arrived; and this confidence did much to relieve their minds as they pressed steadily on.

Lil Artha was apparently bent on making Landy pay for his previous easy time; he kept the other at work, though frequently the fat scout had to hold his push-pole under his arm while he mopped his reeking brow. Perhaps Landy panted very loud on purpose, with the object of causing his obdurate boss to relent, and give him a chance to "spell" with Mark.

Heedless of sighs and half-heard groans alike, Lil Artha just sat there and took his ease, while the slave worked and worked as though he were chained to the galley's oar.

No one ever knew whether it were actually an accident or a deep-laid scheme on the part of the weary Landy to end this period of torture. There may be some things even worse than a mere ducking—at least a stout boy like Landy Smith might think so.

At any rate, none of the scouts happened to be looking very closely at the time, and consequently they could not say one way or the other. All they knew was that without any warning Landy was seen to be dragged out of the stern of the skiff, struggle to clasp his writhing legs about the pushpole that stood at an oblique angle, caught firmly in the tenacious mud, and then releasing his hold, flop with a great splash into the dark-colored water of Sassafras Swamp!



CHAPTER X

THE SUSPICIOUS ACTIONS OF LANDY

To this very day, it has never been positively known among the scouts of the Wolf Patrol whether Landy met with an unexpected accident, or allowed himself to be deliberately dragged out of the boat, seized with a sudden overwhelming desire to end his spell of drudgery.

The splash was simply terrific, and Landy vanished completely beneath the surface of the swamp water, which chanced to be fairly deep at that place, as of necessity Landy himself must have known.

"Oh! he's overboard!" exclaimed Toby, in the other boat, perhaps louder than his orders from the scout master permitted.

"What a nuisance!" grunted Lil Artha, trying to appear unconcerned, though it might have been noticed that he tried the best he could to stop the movement of the skiff by thrusting both hands in the water, and paddling.

Mark did better than that, for he snatched up a thwart that he knew was loose, and started to use it vigorously so as to check the progress of the floating boat.

Meanwhile, of course, Landy came to the surface like a bobbing cork that had been pulled down by the bite of a fish. He was floundering around like a whale, spouting volumes of water that he must have swallowed in his dive, and apparently doing his level best to stay on top.

"Hey! ain't you goin' to help a feller?" they managed to make out from his almost incoherent splutter.

The other boat had by now pushed up close alongside, and Elmer, leaning over the side, seized the swimmer by the coat collar. Landy at once allowed himself to apparently collapse. He was content to have someone support him; but some of his chums imagined there was a suspicious manufactured look in the expression of terror that had fixed itself on his face.

With plenty to lend a helping hand the fat scout was soon pushed and hauled on board the skiff from which he had fallen. The treacherous pole was also recovered and given in charge of Lil Artha, for, of course, it could not be expected that a fellow who had just been rescued from a watery grave would be able to continue that arduous task of pushing.

Lil Artha frequently looked queerly at the dripping Landy as he used the pole. Sometimes he would chuckle softly to himself, and a swift grin flash athwart his lean countenance as though a humorous thought had struck him; after which the tall scout might be observed to shake his head as if bothered.

Landy settled down to taking things easy. He wanted them all to know that he had had a remarkably close call, and every little while he would heave a great sigh, to follow it with such words as:

"I'm terrible glad you boys were on deck to save me. My clothes seemed as heavy as lead, and I sure think I'd have gone down three times if you hadn't chucked me aboard here. That was a narrow squeak for me. I guess I went and got too confident, and it made me careless. But holy smoke! how that mud can grip! I just couldn't get the old pole out nohow, and that's a fact. I won't forget what you did for me, fellers, sure I won't. I hope to be able to do the same for every lasting one of you some day."

"You're too kind, Landy," laughed Toby; "none of us are hankering after an experience like that. I'll never forget what you looked like, dangling there on that push-pole, and trying to squirm your legs around it so as to climb up. Want to know what you made me think of, Landy?"

"Go on and tell me," said the other, with a tremble in his voice, for he was by this time beginning to feel the effect of his immersion.

"Why, you remember how we used to go frog-hunting in a boat, with a three-foot line at the end of a stout pole, and a small hook baited with a piece of red flannel? Well, when we'd see a whopping big greenback we'd dangle that red stuff close to his nose. It was funny to see him squat down like a cat does on sighting a sparrow or a robin, and then jump up to grab the flannel."

Toby paused to chuckle afresh, and the object of his attack urged him to continue, although he evidently realized that he was about to be held up to boyish ridicule.

"First, the frog thinks he wants that queer red bug the worst kind," Toby went on to say, "but as soon as he feels the hook he changes his mind. Then he starts in to do the greatest acrobatic feats you ever saw, twisting his hind legs up over his head like he wanted to turn a somersault, or else climb up the line. Well, when I saw you dangling on that push-pole, I thought of a fat, greenback frog."

"Huh! guess you'd a tried to climb, too, if you'd been in my place," grunted the stout scout, drawing his coat a little closer around him, and shivering.

"No, I'd have stuck by the boat, Landy," said Toby, soberly.

Landy shot him a suspicious glance but did not make a reply. Perhaps he may have been wondering whether any of his mates already suspected that his recent narrow escape had not been such an accident as it appeared.

Elmer now took a hand in the discussion.

"Here, let's make less noise, fellows," he remarked. "In the excitement we've already broken our rule, and if there was anyone near by they must have known all about us. And we're going ashore just beyond there."

"So soon in the afternoon, Elmer; what's up?" demanded Chatz, who, having rested since last using the pole, did not understand why they should call it a day's work at not much after three o'clock.

"If you look at Landy, you'll understand why," continued the patrol leader.

"Why, he is shivering, sure enough!" exclaimed Chatz; "what ails you, suh? Are you feeling cold on such a warm day as this?"

"What, me cold!" stuttered Landy, trying to put on a brave face, though his lips were turning blue and quivering; "of course I ain't. It must be the excitement of the little scare has gripped me, that's all."

But wise Elmer knew very well he was assuming a degree of comfort which he did not feel, and he could not stand for it.

"You've got to do one of two things, Landy,", he said, with authority, "either take the push-pole again, and warm your blood up, or else go ashore to dry your clothes. Otherwise, we'll have you getting a chill, and then the fat will be in the fire as far as our hunt goes. Which shall it be?"

"If it's all the same to you, Elmer, and you mean the whole kit to stop off too, I say let's go ashore," hastily replied Landy.

"Head for that little cove, Lil Artha, and you too, Toby," said Elmer.

"I'd like to lend him something I've got in my pack," remarked Lil Artha, apparently taking pity on the shivering one; "only you c'n see with one eye it wouldn't come within a mile of meeting around his waist."

"I've got a sweater he could put on while his clothes are drying," volunteered Toby Jones; "of course, it isn't his size by a jugfull, but then you know sweaters stretch. Like as not it'll go around me twice though, after Landy's worn the same. But he's our chum, and scouts should always be ready to make sacrifices for each other."

"That's real good of you, Toby," mumbled Landy, strangely enough unable to meet the honest gaze of the generous donor.

The landing was soon made, and when the dripping Landy got ashore the first thing Elmer made him do was to jump around, and thresh his arms back and forth. This, of course, was to induce a circulation of blood, so as to resist the chill following his late immersion.

"Lil Artha, I leave it to you to make the fire," said the patrol leader. "Use dry wood so there'll be little or no smoke; and build it in that low spot over to the right. If we choose to keep it going to-night, there's only a small chance that anyone will discover the light in that dip."

Nothing pleased Lil Artha better than to make a camp fire. Besides the genial glow, which he so dearly loved, being a fire worshipper by nature, it doubtless meant that before a great while they would be cooking supper; and as we happen to be aware such a task was never onerous to the lanky scout, whose appetite seldom failed him.

There were others to help pick up the right kind of wood, for every scout has to learn such things early in his career in woodcraft. Soon a crackling little blaze sprang up, which, being carefully fed, presently amounted to a considerable fire.

"Here you are, Landy," said Elmer, when he could feel the genial heat at a distance of five feet away; "strip off, and hang your duds on these sticks we've planted around the fire. They'll soon begin to steam, and then dry out."

Elmer even took a hand himself, wringing each article cast off by the bulky Landy before he hung it judiciously before the fire.

Fortunately, the fat scout had made out to carry an extra pair of socks and a suit of clean underwear in his pack, and having donned these, with the help of Toby's expansive sweater, he had to make out. There was considerable fun poked at him as he squatted there by the fire attending to his clothes, so as to make sure they did not get scorched by the heat.

"There's one thing bad about this drying-out process, though," Lil Artha was heard saying to Ted, who chanced to be near by; "and that's the way clothes shrink after they've been wet."

"Which reminds me," Toby called out, "of that story about the fat bachelor who had washed a suit of his new underwear himself, and hung it on the clothes-line to dry; but the maid came along afterwards and finding them ready to take in hung up a suit belonging to the kid, about four years of age. When the stout bach stepped out to get his suit and saw that baby outfit hanging in its place, he rubbed his eyes and was heard to say to himself: 'Great Scott! and the clerk swore they wouldn't shrink a bit!'"

"But I hope my clothes won't shrivel up so I can't get in the same," Landy observed, anxiously. "A nice figure I'd cut going around day and night like this. And let me tell you the skeeters would fairly eat me alive. As it is, I'm cracking at them all the time right now."

Frequent examinations, however reassured him. His clothes were drying nicely, and did not seem to be losing any of their former generous proportions. So in time Landy might hope to be garbed in his proper attire as became a scout, and not an Arab or a "side show freak," such as Toby persisted in dubbing him.

Supper was later on taken in hand. There was no lack of recruits when it came to doing the cooking; in fact, Elmer found that he had six enthusiastic would-be chefs to choose from, even Landy expressing a willingness to serve, as he had to hover near the blaze more or less anyway, and might as well be busy.

Afterwards the fire was allowed to go down, though Elmer did not feel that it was positively necessary for them to let it die out entirely. If it was bound to betray them doubtless the mischief had already been done; and having to shoulder the blame, they might as well have the game.

It was a great delight to them all to squat there around the fire and talk in low tones. There were no boisterous language or actions tolerated. Elmer gave them to understand that they were now out on serious business, and all such conduct must be left to another time.

Still, they found plenty to talk about, most of it connected with the strange happening at Hickory Ridge, in which their unfortunate comrade, Hen Condit, bore such a prominent part.

"I wonder now," Toby was saying at one time, "whether the Chief of Police got a clue like we did that'd fetch him up in this region of the country with a posse, meaning to try to round up this escaped rascal?"

There was a variety of opinions concerning this point, some believing one way and the rest having contrary views.

"It would be too bad, now," said Ted, "if they managed to haul both of them up before we could get Hen in hand, and hear hith thory of what happened."

"That's a fact," added Lil Artha. "We know the Chief, and that he'd take Hen back to town just like he was a real criminal. No matter what excuse the boy'd try to give, the Chief wouldn't listen, leaving all that for the Justice of the Peace before whom he'd take his prisoners. Boys, we've just got to find Hen first; that's all there is to it."

That seemed to be the consensus of opinion among them. By degrees they had come to believe that Hen Condit must be under a spell, to have acted as he did. Nothing else would explain the mystery, for Hen had always been reckoned a mild, inoffensive sort of fellow, one of the last boys in Hickory Ridge to do anything so terrible as commit a robbery.

"That's just what it is!" declared Toby, as they again talked it all over in hopes of getting a better conception of the truth, "the man who's got Hen must be one of those terrible hypnotists you read about. I saw one down in the city last summer at a show, and he made fellows do the most ridiculous things anybody ever heard tell of."

"Such as what?" asked Lil Artha, looking as though he might be skeptical.

"Why, one boy thought he was a goat, and ran all around on his hands and feet, hunting for tin cans and old shoes to eat. Another believed he was a dog baying at the full moon, and I nearly took a fit listening to him whoop. Then there was a third fellow who believed he was made of iron, so he stretched himself from one chair to another, and three men stood right in his middle; and he didn't break, either. Say, it was the greatest sight you ever saw."

"Fakes, all rank fakes!" snorted Lil Artha; "every one of those boys was a confederate of the impostor. You notice they never come to small places where everybody knows everybody else, but show in cities, where a new audience comes each night. I'd like to see a circus like that, just to laugh; but you couldn't get me to believe in hypnotism worth a cent."

"Well, then," demanded Toby, "what do you think this man's got on Hen that he's made him do whatever he wanted, tell us that, if you can?"

"I don't know," replied Lil Artha, promptly.

"See?" cried Toby, exultantly, "he backs down right away."

"There are a lot of things I don't know," added the tall scout; "but it's my opinion that Hen's being held to that man through some kind of fear. P'raps he's been made to believe he did something terrible, and his only hope is to skip out before the police get him. But let's wait till we find him, and then we'll know it all."

"A sensible conclusion," remarked Elmer, who had listened to all the talk with considerable interest; "and as the hour is getting late suppose we begin to settle how we're going to sleep through our first night in Sassafras Swamp."



CHAPTER XI

A NIGHT ALARM

Up to then none of them had apparently bothered about figuring how they would make themselves comfortable, so that Elmer's suggestion was like a bomb thrown into the camp.

"I should think we had better get busy if we want to have a place to sleep on," Landy exclaimed, for the hard ground did not appeal very much to the fat scout, accustomed as he was to a feather bed at home.

"We have no blankets, remember," said Elmer, "and that is one reason why I laid out to keep the fire burning in a small way through the night."

"But luckily," added Mark, who apparently had been looking around more or less since they came ashore, "there are plenty of spruce and hemlock and fir trees close by. We can make our beds like hunters always used to do, away back in Daniel Boone's time."

"Every fellow will have to shift for himself, then," said Elmer; "so let's start in and lay a foundation for a soft and fragrant bed."

"Hay was good enough for me last night, suh!" declared the Southern boy; "but I've got a hunch I can sleep just as sound on balsam."

"Hemlock for mine every time!" announced Lil Artha.

Then there was a bustling time as the entire seven scouts started to break off small branches and twigs from the adjacent trees, laying them in piles until it looked as though they had secured enough for their purpose.

The beds were arranged in something like a circle around the fire, and acting on the advice of Elmer, who had been on the cattle range and knew what was right, each sleeper expected to keep his feet toward the fire.

"Looks a heap like a big cart-wheel," observed Lil Artha.

"The fire is the hub, and each scout a spoke, that's right, suh," Chatz agreed.

Landy acted as though he would never get enough of the fragrant browse. Long after the others had stopped gathering it, he continued. When they joked him about being greedy when there was no price to pay, he had an answer ready.

"I'm a whole lot heavier than anybody else, don't you know?" he told them. "And on that account I ought to have a higher pile under me. Besides, I always did like to gather things in."

"We'll remember that, Landy," threatened Lil Artha, "the next time we need a big supply of firewood. You've fixed it up good and tight, and you'll find us the most obliging lot of scouts east of the Rockies."

After considerable fussing and joshing, they managed finally to get "fixed." As none of them had slept too soundly on the preceding night, owing to their strange environment, and the wild alarm that sounded when Johnny's chicken-thief trap was sprung, the boys were both weary and drowsy.

Elmer was really the last to drop off, and he smiled as he raised his head to glance around at the stretched-out figures of his six chums. Some were breathing pretty loud, but Elmer could forgive that, and so he also gave himself up to indulging in refreshing slumber.

He was awakened by a horrible crash that made him instantly sit up. Other figures were bobbing up all around the smouldering camp fire. From the condition of this latter, Elmer knew that he must have been asleep much more than an hour.

"What happened?" gasped Landy the first thing, for he was digging his fat knuckles into his heavy eyes as though trying to rout the last atom of drowsiness from them.

"It was me," replied Lil Artha, promptly; "I fired my gun!"

"What at?" demanded Elmer, thrilled in spite of himself.

"A creeping man!" came the astounding answer.

"Wow! what's all that, Lil Artha?" Toby exclaimed; "you must have been dreaming, and did it in your sleep. It's a good thing none of us happened to be in range of your old Marlin scatter-gun, that's all."

"Rats! I tell you I was wide awake, and sitting up when I fired," insisted the tall scout.

Of course, by this time all were on their feet, for the excitement had gripped hold of them. Elmer realized that Lil Artha was speaking earnestly, and showing no symptoms of having played a practical joke.

"Now tell us all about it, Lil Artha," he commanded.

"Why, it was about thisaway," said the other, obediently. "I happened to wake up and felt a bit thirsty, so I sat up thinking I'd crawl over to our big jug of fresh water and take a swig. But just as I sat up I saw something moving over in the bushes about twenty-five feet away. Yes, sir, and the fire picked up just then so I could make out what looked mighty like a man peeking at me through the same bushes—fact is, I know that's what it was, and nothing else."

"Well, what did you do then?" asked the patrol leader.

"I always keep my faithful Marlin handy when I sleep out in the woods, you remember, Elmer," continued the other, with a touch of boyish pride in his voice; "so all I had to do was to grab up the gun and blaze away as quick as I could throw the same to my shoulder."

Elmer caught his arm in a fast grip.

"Not aiming at a man in the bushes only twenty-five feet away, Lil Artha—don't tell me you were silly enough to do that?" he asked, somewhat hoarsely.

The tall scout chuckled, and Elmer's fears were instantly dissipated.

"I'm not a fool, Elmer," he said, loftily. "I aimed away up in the air, and shot to scare not to hurt!"

"Good enough, Lil Artha," the scout master went on to say in a relieved tone; "I couldn't believe you'd be so reckless. A charge of bird shot at that distance goes like a bullet, because it hasn't a chance to scatter."

It was apparently Toby's turn to appear skeptical now.

"Huh! I s'pose he lit out then like a streak, after you'd wasted a good charge of shot in the air, and knocked leaves from the branches of trees—is that what you want us to believe, Lil Artha?"

"Didn't you hear the row he made rushing away?" demanded the other, severely; "but then all of you started talking at once, and I guess you didn't take much notice."

"I heard some sort of noise off that way," asserted Elmer, pointing.

"Correct, Elmer, for that's where he was kneeling, right over there in those thick bushes. You see I mightn't have noticed him at all only he happened to move just when a little flame shot up along that piece of partly burned wood."

"Oh! I admit that you may have seen something," persisted Toby; "but the chances are ten to one it was a white-faced heifer that had hit on our camp, and was looking to see who and what we were. We happen to know there's a stock farm not a great ways off, and I reckon their cows get into the swamp once in so often."

"Think you've laid it down pretty pat, don't you?" sneered Lil Artha; "but I'm going to show you where you're away off your base. Guess I've got eyes, and know a human from a white-faced heifer. Watch my smoke, that's all."

With that the indignant scout handed his gun to Chatz, and stepping over to the fire picked up the half-burned brand which he had mentioned before. This Lil Artha whirled briskly around his head several times until he had it crackling and taking fire afresh, so that it promised to make a very fair torch, if used for only a brief time.

Elmer made no objections to the programme. Indeed, he was deeply interested in the outcome, whatever it might prove to be.

After having made sure of sufficient light, Lil Artha boldly strode directly toward the spot he had indicated as the scene of the near-tragedy.

"Go slow, Lil Artha," warned cautious Landy; "he might be laying for you there. Keep him covered, Chatz, with the gun, won't you?"

"Oh! give us a rest, Landy; didn't I tell you he hoofed it like fun after that shot gave him a scare? Who's afraid?"

With that Lil Artha reached the bushes indicated, and the others were close on his heels, every fellow eager to find out whether what he had told them was in fact true, or if the apparition had only been a figment of Lil Artha's imagination, the tail-end, as it were, of a stirring dream.

Bending down, the long-legged scout began to scan the ground. His discoveries started almost immediately, as his excited words announced:

"Here's where he pushed back the brush, as you c'n see for yourselves. Yes, and there's aplenty of footprints besides. Looky where he knelt down, because here's the mark of his knees as plain as anything. Now what do you say, Toby Jones? Is the laugh on me, after all?"

Toby had to confess that it did not look that way.

"Oh! I'm ready to own up you did see a man snooping around our camp, Lil Artha," he confessed, frankly; "and when you let fly with that load he lit out like all possessed. Elmer, of course the chances are it was that man, don't you think?"

"We know of no other in this region," said the patrol leader. "He must have discovered our fire, and was creeping up when our vigilant comrade saw him, meaning to steal part of our food supply. We happen to know they're short of grub, and now that the country is being roused against them this man is beginning to be more or less afraid to venture out of the swamp to secure another lot of fowls, or anything else along the eating line."

"But it looks as if he came here alone, Elmer, seeing we can find only one set of footprints," remarked Lil Artha.

"Oh! mercy! I certainly hope now he hasn't done anything terrible to our chum, Hen Condit," quavered Landy, in a panic.

"There's no reason why we should believe such a thing," announced Elmer, decidedly; "we've already agreed that he possesses some sort of strange power over poor Hen, and I suppose the boy is waiting in their camp away from here, for the man to come back with provisions."

They walked back and the fire was revived, for since no one felt just like trying to sleep again they concluded to sit up a while and talk it all over. This attempted visit on the part of the unknown man had apparently put a new face on the whole matter. It might change their plans considerably, too, some of the scouts feared.

"I don't see why that should be," Elmer explained. "Of course, after this we'll have to keep a watch every night, so as to hold him up if he tries to get away with any of our stuff. It may hurry things along in the end. If they have little to eat, and the man is really afraid to go outside of the swamp thinking the police are waiting to arrest him, he may make up his mind to surrender to us."

"Then you believe he knows why we're here, do you, Elmer?" demanded Toby.

"It seems possible, although, of course, we have to jump at conclusions, because we really don't know," came the answer.

"Whew! but this is all a dark mystery," confessed Landy; "and I never was much account at guessing the answer to riddles. Who is this man; what is he holding over Hen Condit's head; why should our chum do that awful thing, and then leave such a silly letter behind to convict himself? I'm all in a whirl, and if anybody can straighten me out I'd be a heap obliged."

Apparently, nobody could, at least there was no effort made in that direction. In fact, to tell the truth, all the boys felt that they were groping in the gloom, and even their best guesses had only a slender foundation.

"We've enlisted in the war, though," said Lil Artha, grimly, "and we won't be kept back by any little thing. If that chap comes snooping around any more he stands a mighty good chance of getting hurt, that's all I'm going to say about it."

"And we'll run across Hen, sooner or later, you can put that in your pipe and smoke it," asserted Toby Jones, firmly.

When they had discussed the subject from every side, without picking up much additional information worth while, the boys began to feel sleepy again. So Elmer told them off in watches, two scouts being assigned to duty at a time. Landy was left out, because he was the odd fellow, and perhaps for other obvious reasons.

He pretended to be quite indignant over the slight, and vowed that he would certainly sit up through one of the watches with the pair whose turn it happened to be. But none of them took his threats seriously, because they knew full well when Landy Smith once got asleep it required something like a young earthquake to arouse him. Elmer hardly anticipated another visit from the mysterious unknown that night. He fancied the fellow must have imagined Lil Artha really shot point-blank at him, and that it was only his good luck which enabled him to escape disaster.

Being too good a scout to take unnecessary chances, and not wishing to lose the main part of such supplies as they had fetched along for several days' use, the patrol leader took all due precautions.

The fire was kept up the balance of the night in the bargain, for they felt as though the illumination helped to guard them. Complete darkness might have tempted a raiding thief to try again, while he would be afraid to attempt such a risky move while the flames crackled and lighted up the immediate surroundings.

After all, nothing happened to disturb them. The sentries stuck diligently to their duties, and changed at the time appointed. This had been laid out by Elmer, as the sky had cleared and the stars could be plainly seen in places. He figured time from the position of certain bright planets, and their setting would mean the different changes in guard mount. Scouts who have been in camp have learned these methods of telling time by the use of the heavenly watch, and few of them after once mastering the interesting method find a need for Ingersols.

When daylight sifted in through the treetops overhead, the boys gave signs of arousing. Landy, of course, was the last to awaken, and he professed to be quite heart-broken because no one had called him in time to help stand out that watch. The gleam of humor in his eyes, however, told Elmer that the fat boy was not quite so much disappointed as he made out to be. In fact, the patrol leader was beginning to fear that Landy had latterly shown signs of developing a new trait in his composition, and started to play the part of a deceiver, in return for constant badgering on the part of his fun-loving mates.

It was while they were eating breakfast that Elmer propounded a new scheme, and after placing it before his comrades asked them what their opinions were.

"The question now is," was what he said, seriously, "whether we mean to keep on poling our skiff along the waterways; or shouldering our packs take the shore from now on; and as our rule always has been, majority votes carry the day."



CHAPTER XII

THE VALUE OF SCOUTCRAFT

"But that old skiff suits me all right," objected Landy, who did not particularly fancy shouldering his pack, to tramp through brush and over marshy tracts of land, such as must be their portion.

"Why ought we make a change, Elmer?" asked Ted, also unable to grasp the meaning of this new move.

Not so Lil Artha, who was quick to see things, especially when some suggestion on the part of the scout-master was concerned.

"Why, what ails you fellows?" he exclaimed, scornfully, as became one possessed of superior brains; "don't you understand my sighting that man last night alters the whole business? Now, there's no need of hunting a needle in a haystack, for we've got a real trail to follow up."

"That's right, suh, and scouts ought to be able to accomplish the task," Chatz remarked in his superior way, which, however, everybody knew was only skin-deep, the result of his Southern birth and training, for he was a splendid fellow at heart, and well liked.

"What about the skiffs then, if we abandon the same?" asked Toby.

"Oh! we'll mark the place, and Johnny can easily find his property when we're paying him five dollars for their use," said Lil Artha, lightly. "And boys, better make a start with those packs right now."

Landy sighed heavily, and seeing there was no escape he started to carry out the suggestion of the tall scout. His lack of ambition was so noticeable that Lil Artha could not resist the temptation to take a shot at him.

"I was just thinking, fellows," he went on, maliciously, "that Landy's going to play out on us, and give no end of trouble; so we might leave him here to watch the boats while we're gone."

"What! me stay here, and starve to death?" ejaculated Landy, commencing to put considerably more vigor into his labor; "I guess not, if I know myself, and I think I do."

"Oh! for that matter we'd let you have some grub," continued the generous Lil Artha; "enough for one full meal anyway."

"No thank you, not any in mine. I'm going where the rest do, make up your mind to that. If the old boats have to be watched stay yourself, Lil Artha, that's all. You couldn't coax or hire me to remain alone a single night in this awful swamp, not if you tried till doomsday. I like company, and if I have to I c'n even put up with you as a steady, Lil Artha. Now that'll do for you. It isn't to be considered for a second."

Of course, Lil Artha was only having a little fun, because there was no thought of leaving anybody behind to stand guard over the two abandoned skiffs; and least of all would Elmer have dreamed of appointing the fat and timid scout for such a duty.

When deciding on such a radical change in their plans, Elmer did not forget that it might also be well for them to conceal the two boats. Should the man they were hunting chance to come upon the skiffs he might think it good policy to smash in the planks to such an extent that they would be useless for further voyaging; and possibly the scouts would be glad to get out of the swamp by the same means they had taken when entering.

"First of all, let's hide the boats somewhere," he suggested. "They're pretty heavy, of course, but seven of us ought to be able to carry them, one at a time."

"It needn't be for far either," Lil Artha assured them, "because here's a jimdandy place close by. Everybody on the job, and see what you can lift."

After all it was nothing to speak of, for the two skiffs were easily handled, and nicely concealed from view. When the boys had removed all traces of their passage, anyone might walk by within five feet of the patch of bushes and never suspect what lay there so neatly hidden.

"There, that job's done," said Elmer; "now finish packing, and we'll be off."

Landy hurried now. He had a lingering fear that there might be more in that obscure threat made by Lil Artha of desertion on their part than appeared on the surface. The more he considered being left alone in that dreary swamp the faster Landy's fingers flew. He also kept a wary eye on the tall scout, and had Lil Artha shown any intention of hurrying off he would have surely found Landy tagging at his heels, whether he had his pack or not.

Meanwhile, Elmer, having quickly arranged his possessions, because of long familiarity in the packing line, had gone over once more to the bush patch where on the preceding night Lil Artha had seen that suspicious lurker.

Of course, it was Elmer's intention to examine the tracks left by the mysterious visitor, and see whether it would be possible for them to pick up the trail.

He was, of course, taking it for granted that the party must have been the same man they had been hunting ever since reaching the swamp. So far as Elmer could say, his footprints resembled those they had seen with Hen's, although there was really nothing remarkable about them to distinguish the indentations above all others.

Elmer knew that they took certain chances in figuring this way. After all this man may have been the farmer who had a stock farm. Some of his cattle breaking bounds would likely enough wander into the swamp, and in looking for the strays perhaps he had discovered the smouldering fire.

As tramps, and possibly bad men as well, sometimes hid in the depths of swamps, the cautious cattle-raiser may have been crawling up to find out the truth when that sudden shot frightened him, so that he had run wildly away.

Well, no matter which of these two solutions to the mystery proved to be the correct one, Elmer meant to try and come upon the party whose trail now lay before him. He still favored the original idea, and, in fact, never bothered mentioning the other speculation to his comrades.

All of them being ready they set out. Elmer and Lil Artha led the van, for they were recognized as the best equipped scouts in the Wolf Patrol when it came to a question of trailing. What Lil Artha lacked in actual experience, he partly made up for in his pertinacity, as well as his constant practice along these lines.

It soon became evident to them that the fugitive had not thought it worth while to try and hide his trail at the time he fled from the camp. That sudden shot must have given him a nervous shock, so that all he cared about just then was to put as much distance between himself and those seven khaki-clad boys as possible. The fact that they carried weapons and would not hesitate to use their firearms must have convinced him it was a risky thing to hang around that region any longer.

For half an hour the boys moved on. Sometimes it was at a fair walk, and then again when the trail grew fainter so that those at the head of the column were compelled to exercise all of their knowledge in order to make sure progress, things slackened more or less.

The boys had been warned not to make any unnecessary noise. Talking save in the lowest of whispers was strictly tabooed, and even at that Elmer did not encourage any conversation. They also had to take care of their feet, and not press their weight upon some stick that would break with a loud snap. Even such small things have spoiled well-laid plans before now, and trackers, whether of wild beasts of human fugitives, cannot be too careful.

If Landy puffed a little the other made no objection, since he took care to do it half under his breath. It was not such very easy work, though as scouts most of them enjoyed every minute of the time, being constantly thrilled with the expectation of suddenly coming upon a camp where those they sought might be found, and taken by surprise.

Lil Artha even had it all arranged in his mind just how he meant to threaten that man with his gun, warning him savagely that it would be as much as his skin was worth to attempt to flee.

It was in this humor that they came to a log that lay across their path. Here the trail ended, but, of course, such clever fellows as Elmer and Lil Artha would understand a little trick like that. The stumbling man had naturally taken to the log, passed well along to the other end, and then jumped off.

"You take that side and I'll cover this one," said Elmer, without the least hesitation; "ten to one we'll get him again."

They did, for Lil Artha quickly found the tracks once more. The incident, however, told them that the man had begun to fear he would be followed when morning came, since this was his first effort to baffle pursuit.

"I'm sorry that happened," said Elmer, softly, to his working partner; "because it's going to make our task all the harder you see."

"Do you mean because he's begun to be afraid he'll be followed?" asked the other.

"That's just it," continued the patrol leader; "if that idea gets a firm hold of him he's bound to do everything he knows how so as to leave us in the lurch. In the end he might even decide to quit the swamp, and take his chances of getting away outside."

"Well, we don't quit at that, do we?" asked Lil Artha, with a gritting of his teeth that told of grim determination.

Elmer looked at him and smiled.

"We'd be a nice lot of scouts, wouldn't we," he said, sarcastically, "if we were ready to throw up the sponge at the first sign of trouble? No, we've started on this trail, and we'll run it down if it keeps us busy the rest of our vacation."

"In the immortal words of General Grant while flanking Lee and driving him back toward Richmond," continued the other, "'we'll fight it out on this line if it takes all summer!' I'm glad to hear you say that, Elmer. But here we are up against it again, seems like."

This time the fleeing man had reached a certain point, for his tracks could be plainly seen, but the trail abruptly ended.

"It's an easy guess," said Elmer, after a brief examination. "You can see that he stood up on his toes here, for the indentation is heavier forward. Then, besides, look at this bark lying fresh on the ground, only a few small pieces, but scraped from the tree above us."

"Sure thing, Elmer!" declared Lil Artha, while the others stood and watched the actions of their comrades with the utmost curiosity, "he just grabbed hold of that lowermost limb, gave his feet a fling against the trunk of the tree, and hoisted himself up yonder."

"Then perhaps he's somewhere up there still," suggested Landy.

"I don't think so," continued Elmer; "but we'll send up an expedition to find out after we make sure that all avenues of escape are closed. My own opinion is that he passed out along some other low-hanging limb, and dropped to the ground again, perhaps thirty feet away from here."

"Let's look and see!" cried Toby, eagerly.

"Be careful," warned Lil Artha, hurriedly; "for unless you step mighty fine you may cover up the prints of his shoes where he dropped down."

Elmer had already decided just about where he would have descended from the tree had he been in the place of the fugitive. Lil Artha, too, seemed to have settled on the same spot for he was just at the heels of the leader.

Instead of looking down, Elmer kept glancing up. It might be he was mentally following the straddling figure along that great limb. Presently he abruptly stopped.

"I can see signs that tell me he came this far, but they end up there," he told his companion. "Yes, and here you see fresh leaves on the ground. Look sharp, Lil Artha, and it may be your eyes will light on the fresh trail."

Hardly had Elmer spoken when a low but eager cry told that success had been achieved. Lil Artha pointed to the mark of feet close beside them. Undoubtedly, the fugitive had dropped once more to the ground.

"Say, let me tell you he's a slick article, that chap," said Toby, after they had once more made a fresh start. "I wouldn't be surprised to learn he'd been out on the plains in his day, he seems to know so much about Indian ways and all that."

"But he's met his match in our scout-master, for a fact," blustered Landy, full of genuine admiration for the commander who had many a time led the Wolf Patrol boys to victory over stupendous obstacles.

"Silence everybody now," came from Elmer, though naturally it must have given him a warm feeling in the region of his heart to know that these good chums felt so kindly toward him and were not backward in expressing their sentiments.

So they continued on for another stretch. The fugitive must have come to believe that by this time he would have thrown any possible tracker off the scent; at any rate, he tried no new game looking to baffling pursuit.

Gliding along like shadows the seven scouts made fair progress. Elmer was of the opinion that at any minute now they might come upon the spot where the unknown had his hide-out. He had communicated his plans to the others before this, and they all knew the parts they would be expected to play should it come to a hold-up.

Covered by the guns that he and Lil Artha carried, it was doubtful whether the man would dare take chances and try to flee. If he did and left Hen behind him, the first thing for them to do would be to secure the boy, even if he evinced a desperate desire to avoid them.

Somehow, Elmer himself believed they would find what they were seeking in the unusually large patch of brush that now lay ahead of them. He caught glimpses of the water just beyond, which proved that an arm of the swamp extended in this direction.

Pushing steadily on as noiselessly as possible, they were presently able to part the bushes and discover a dead fire in plain sight. The boat lay on the shore, with one plank smashed in, doubtless the result of an accident that had wrecked the hopes of the two fugitives.

Eagerly they surveyed the prospect, and then Lil Artha gave a grunt of disgust.

"Skipped out, that's a measly shame!" he exclaimed, wrathfully.

"But what's that white thing stuck in the crotch of the wand yonder?" demanded Toby; "looks to me like it might be some sort of communication from our poor pard Hen Condit; because that's an old scout and Indian way of leaving word, you know."

Elmer was already hurrying forward to possess himself of the message. The others watched him take it from the crotch of the stick and open the soiled paper on which there seemed to be more or less crooked writing in pencil. Then the patrol leader turned to his comrades, a look of satisfaction on his face.



CHAPTER XIII

HEN CONDIT'S STRANGE MESSAGE

"Is it from Hen?" asked two or three at once, that being the all important fact stamped upon their minds.

At the same time they realized just as well as anything it must be so, else Elmer would not be smiling and frowning as he deciphered the meaning of the scrawl. As all the boys knew, Hen Condit was one of the poorest writers in the Hickory Ridge High School. It may be remembered that in speaking of his other note some of them brought this fact forward, stating that a teacher had once declared the boy well named, since his efforts looked like "hen-tracks" on paper.

"It's lucky that I'm able to read any sort of old writing," remarked Elmer, not without a touch of boyish pride; "it's a gift with me, and Hen sometimes came to ask me to tell him what he'd set down, for after it got cold he couldn't well make it out himself."

"Then you've sensed the meaning of his present communication, have you, Elmer?" questioned Mark, a little bit given to stilted language.

"I can read it all right," was the reply he received, "but understanding the gist of it is another thing. The sentences seem disconnected, and some of them are queer. When Hen wrote this he must either have been half out of his mind, or else he was in great fear of something, or somebody!"

Of course, when the scout-master said this, it produced something of a sensation among the other six fellows. They exchanged grave looks, while Lil Artha was seen to shake his head, and give that gun of his a little tilt upwards, as though he now believed more than ever the time was near at hand when he would be compelled to make some sort of use of the same, in order to save the kidnapped chum.

"Please read it out to us, Elmer!" begged Landy.

"Yeth, we're wondering what it can all be about," added Ted Burgoyne.

"Then listen, and please don't interrupt me until I finish," said Elmer. "This is what Hen's written with a lead pencil on this sheet of paper, which I think he must have torn from a little memorandum book I happen to know he always carries about in his pocket."

He held the crumpled paper closer to his eyes, for in places the writing was rather faint, and in two particular spots Elmer had to guess at a word, for evidently a drop of something, perhaps a salty tear, had fallen on the paper, blurring the work of the lead pencil stub.

"Boys, perhaps you'll get this—he says he counted seven and everyone wore a khaki uniform—he thinks you must be the militia—course I know better—but it's no use, you just can't help me—I'm a goner, and the most miserable boy on earth—but I say on the honor of a scout I never meant to do it—I've just got to disappear—maybe I'll let you hear from me if ever I get Out West where they can't find me. Oh! what hard luck, but I have to do whatever he says, no matter what I want. I'm meaning to leave this behind in the scout way, and don't I hope you'll find it. There, he's calling to me to hurry, for we're going to quit this hide-out and try to escape. I'm awful hungry, too. Better leave me to my fate unless you can find a way to seal his lips. That's all. Hen."

"Great Caesar!" exclaimed Lil Artha, who had hung on every word spoken by Elmer. "That proves one of two things. Either our poor pard is looney, or else he's got in the power of a rascal who controls his mind. I always knew Hen was weak in the upper story just a teenty mite. Poor old chap, we've got to find him if it takes us till Christmas. You hear me talking now!"

"Yeth, and we all thay the thame!" burst from Ted, as he doubled his none too expansive fists, and looked as savage as he could.

Indeed, a hasty glance around just then would have told any observer that this strange message, filled with despair and yearning, left by Hen Condit in the crotch of a stick thrust into the ground, had renewed their former resolution not to give over the search until they had either found the missing chum or exhausted every known device looking to success.

"If you asked me," said Elmer, "I'd say the answer to the riddle lay between the two things you mention, Lil Artha. Hen is crazed almost, but it is with fear. He finds himself in the power of a brute who is using him for his own purposes. How it's been done, of course, we can only guess, but the boy believes he has been forced to rob his guardian, and that a posse is searching right now for him, with the intention of putting him in jail. That explains his panic."

"And say, he tells us right at the end of his note that he's some hungry," Lil Artha went on to remark; "and, according to my notion, that condition is next door to being insane. Why, mebbe the poor fellow hasn't had a solitary bite for a whole day or even two of 'em. I pity him from the bottom of my heart."

"Notice what he incidentally says near the end," added Elmer. "'Better leave me to my fate unless you can find a way to seal his lips.' That seems to strengthen our theory, doesn't it?"

"All this mention of 'he' must stand for the unknown man who has got Hen, of course?" ventured Mark.

"Couldn't be anybody else," the patrol leader made answer; "in fact, Hen just now doesn't seem able to even think of any other person."

"The fellow is no common rascal, let me tell you, suh," Chatz declared. "He must have been some sort of professor along the lines of magic, perhaps a hypnotist who performed wonders on the stage before crowds, and then dabbled in things that the law sat down on, which landed him in the penitentiary finally."

"When the truth comes out, Chatz, I'm positive that your theory will be found pretty near the exact facts," affirmed Elmer.

"But all the time we're jabbering away here," warned Lil Artha, "remember that they're getting further and further away from us."

"As to that," the patrol leader assured him, "a few minutes don't make so much difference, and it's always best to start right, so as to avoid a loss of ten times as much later on by making mistakes. Then again, I'm pretty sure that man is too smart to think of trying to leave Sassafras Swamp before night comes, even if he plans to do it then."

Somehow, this intelligence comforted the more impetuous ones. They had such unlimited faith in Elmer knowing what course was best to pursue that his judgment was accepted on its face value every time—just as the Treasury notes of the United States Government are relied upon to be worth their face denomination in specie.

"About how long ago would you thay they had thkipped out of here?" Ted asked, as they still lingered, looking to the right and to the left, as though wanting to make certain nothing valuable in the way of a clue could have escaped their scrutiny.

"Lil Artha, we're depending on you for that information," suggested Elmer, although it could not be doubted that he himself was able to give a pretty good answer, for he had observed certain signs as well as the tall scout.

"Not more than two hours ago, I'd say, Elmer," Lil Artha ventured, with considerable confidence manifested in his manner, as though if put to it he was able to muster all the evidence necessary to establish his veracity.

"Just about what I thought myself," added the scout-master, with a satisfied smile. "Two heads are better than one, any day, Lil Artha, especially when they seem to work together as well as ours do."

"Then the man didn't think to skip out right away after he got back here, did he?" asked Landy, "because a good many hours have elapsed since Lil Artha woke us all up with that sudden shot."

"No, he must have slept for some time," answered Elmer, "knowing there wasn't apt to be any sort of a pursuit in the night. Then again he relied more or less on having blinded his trail, as a man who had spent some time in the West among Indians and cowboys would have done. It wasn't a great while before dawn when he must have aroused poor Hen and told him they must get away."

"But when do you think our chum could have scribbled that message?" asked Mark.

"Evidently, after he knew about our being within a mile of him," replied Elmer, with a promptness that told how he had figured it all out. "I suppose the man told him about the khaki soldiers who were in the swamp looking for them, thinking it would make Hen more frightened than ever; but we know he guessed the truth about our being his comrades of the Wolf Patrol."

"Then, believing he would be hurried off again, sooner or later," Mark continued, "he took the first chance he had to write that message. He must have fixed it in that split stick, and just as they were leaving here stuck the wand in the ground, scout fashion."

"We seem to have it all sized up to a dot by now," remarked the leader, preparing to move; "and as there isn't anything else for us to do here, suppose we get busy on the trail again, Lil Artha?"

"I'm your chicken, and you can depend on me when it comes to scenting out a trail, Elmer. Wonder if that man will be up to any more high jinks in the way of walking along logs, climbing trees, and such tricks? We'll keep a good lookout for such capers, believe me."

They were soon moving along, the two trackers in the van as before, with others trailing after. Landy brought up the rear, though Mark kept a careful eye on him most of the time, as though rather skeptical about his ability to make progress without getting into some sort of trouble.

It would be just like clumsy Landy to trip, and make a headlong plunge into the brown tamarack water of the swamp just when he should have been most careful. They had known him to do such things more than a few times in the past; and on this account Mark always made it a point to drop back and keep him company when he imagined the situation became acute.

From the rapid manner in which Lil Artha and Elmer picked up the trail it was plainly evident that so far the unknown fugitive from justice had not bothered resorting to any of his tricks looking to blinding the tracks.

He had been compelled to wait for daylight before trying to move through the swamp, because progress would have been next door to impossible at night time unless one were familiar with the way, or else carried a lantern. Neither of these happened to be within his scope, and so he had to depend upon daylight.