The Boy Scouts at the Panama Canal
CHAPTER II. AN ANGRY FARMER.
"Can we be of any assistance?" asked Rob Blake of the girl, whose alarmedlooks made it evident that she was in an unpleasant situation. He ignoredthe red-faced, angry farmer, but took note out of the corner of his eyeof Jared, who was peeping out at them from behind a shed. Apparently hehad no wish to appear on the scene while his late employer's daughter wasthere. To himself he muttered:--
"It's that stuck-up Rob Blake, that butter-firkin, Tubby Hopkins and thatsissy, Merritt Crawford. They're always butting in when they're notwanted."
The girl turned gratefully to the newcomers. Rob's firm voice and capableappearance made her feel, as did no less her scrutiny of his companions,that here were friends in need.
"Oh, thank you so much!" she cried. "I am Lucy Mainwaring, and you, I'msure, are Rob Blake, leader of the Eagle Patrol. I've heard lots aboutyou from my brother Fred, who is leader of the Black Wolf Patrol, FirstNew York Troop."
"Yes, I'm Rob Blake, this is Merritt Crawford, my second in command, andthis is Tub--I mean Robert Hopkins."
"I know all on yer," growled out old Applegate, "an' I tell yer to keepout of this. Just 'cause yer a banker's son, young Blake, don't give youno right ter come interferin' where yer not wanted."
"Oh, but they _are_ wanted!" cried the girl, before Rob could say a word."This man says that I ran over one of his pigs. Why, it's absurd. I onlyjust bumped the animal, and there he is over there now fighting for hisbreakfast."
Her eyes fairly bubbled merriment as Jake's raucous squeals rosebelligerently from the neighborhood of the hog pens. Tubby spoke up.
"If he can eat, he's all right," announced the stout youth with hiscustomary solemnity.
"But I've grazed the wretched pig twice before," cried the girl, "and Mr.Applegate wants fifteen dollars or he won't help me out of this ditch."
"That's right," confirmed the farmer, "fifteen dollars er she goes aforethe justice fer--fer running over Jake."
"But she didn't run over him," retorted Rob, "and anyhow, fifteen dollarsis an outrageous price to ask for your real or fancied injuries."
"The hog's injuries," corrected the farmer.
"Same thing almost," whispered Merritt to Tubby with a chuckle.
"Come on, boys," said Rob, "let's help this young lady out of the ditch."
The girl turned on the power and the three Boy Scouts shoved with alltheir might at the rear of the machine. It quivered, started, stopped,and then fairly dashed up on to the road. So quickly had it all been donethat before the farmer could make a move the runabout was on thethoroughfare.
"Lucindy! Lucindy, let Towser loose!" yelled the old man as soon as hehad recovered his senses.
The woman ran off the porch and in a few seconds a big, savage-lookingbull dog came bounding out, showing his red fangs and white teeth.
The girl gave a little scream as the dog looked up at his master,apparently waiting an order to rush at the boys.
"Go on!" Rob said to the girl in a quick, low whisper, "we'll be allright."
"Oh, but I can't! You've helped me----"
"That was our duty as Scouts. Now turn on your power and get away. We'llfind a way to deal with the old man, never fear."
Seeing that it was useless to remain, the girl applied the power oncemore and the machine shot out of sight.
"Consarn you pesky brats," roared old Applegate, fairly beside himself.
"Sic 'em, Towse!" he shouted the next instant.
Rob had been prepared for some such move as this. As the dog, with asavage growl, sprang forward, he brought his staff into play. There was aflash of the implement, a quick twist, and the astonished Towser foundhimself spinning backward in the direction from which he had advanced.
"Don't set that dog on us again," cried Rob, in a clear, commandingvoice, "if you do, he'll get hurt."
"Consarn you!" bellowed the farmer again, "air you aidin' and abettin'lawless acts?"
"As far as that goes, your hog had no business in the middle of theroad," was the quiet rejoinder.
"I'll go to law about this," shouted the farmer furiously, brandishinghis knotted fist. But he made no attempt to "sic" Towser on the boysagain. As for that redoubtable animal, he stood by his master, his tailbetween his legs. To use the vernacular, he appeared to be wondering"what had struck him."
As there was nothing to be gained by remaining, the three Boy Scoutsstarted off anew on the last stage of their "hike," which had been one oftwenty-four miles started the day before to visit a patrol in a distanttown on the island. They struck off briskly, as boys will when home isalmost in sight and appetites are keen. The farmer, seeing that nothingwas to be gained by abusing them any further, contented himself bycalling them "young varmints" and turned back toward his house.
The boys had not proceeded many paces when they heard behind them thequick "chug-chug" of a motor cycle. Turning, they saw coming toward thema youth of about Rob's age, mounted on a red motor cycle which, from thenoise it made, appeared to be of high power. As he drew alongside themthey noticed that he, too, was in Scout uniform, and that from the handlebars on his machine fluttered a flag with a black wolf's head on it. Thenewcomer stopped his machine, nimbly alighted and gave the Scout salute,which the boys returned.
"My name is Fred Mainwaring of the Black Wolf Patrol of the First NewYork Troop," he announced, "have you seen anything of a young ladydriving an electric runabout?"
The boys exchanged amused glances. Then Rob recounted the scene in frontof the farmhouse. He also introduced himself and his patrol mates. FredMainwaring, a fine-looking, curly-haired lad, appeared much diverted.
"That's just like sis," he exclaimed, "she's always getting in troublewith that auto of hers; doing things she aut-n't to, so to speak. Excusethe pun. It's a bad habit of mine. She went for a spin this morning andwouldn't wait for me, so now behold me in chase of her."
After some more chat, during which Fred Mainwaring received a heartyinvitation to visit the quarters of the Eagle Patrol in Hampton, the boysparted, very well pleased with each other. The young scouts of the EaglePatrol already knew much about the Mainwaring family, Mr. Mainwaringhaving recently purchased an estate just out of Hampton. The newcomer tothe community was preceded by an almost world-wide reputation as askillful engineer. Many of the great problems in connection with UncleSam's "Big Ditch" had been successfully solved by him, and, although justnow he was at home on a "furlough," he was shortly to leave once more forthe Zone.
During the course of their brief chat Fred had informed the boys that heand his sister were to accompany their father on the return voyage, Fredtaking the position of secretary.
"He had another chap before he came up from the tropics," he informed theboys. "I guess he lives somewhere round here. Jared Applegate his namewas. Had to fire him, though, for some sort of crooked work. I don't knowjust what it was; but it must have been something pretty bad, for dad gotmighty angry when he told about it. You see, in a way I feel responsible.Jared, who was working as a stenographer and typewriter in New York,belonged to my troop. I liked him after a fashion, and got dad to makehim his secretary. It wasn't till after he'd left for Panama that Iaccidentally found out that Jared, who had been treasurer of the troop,had been stealing small sums from time to time.
"I didn't notify dad for fear of worrying him; but of course Jared wasdropped from the troop. When dad got back from the Isthmus this time Iasked about Jared and found out that he had been discharged. Just whatfor, I don't know. Dad wouldn't tell me."
"We know something of Jared's reputation about here," rejoined Rob. "It'snone too good. By the way, that's his father's place back there whereyour sister had all the trouble."
"I knew that his home was somewhere near Hampton," was the rejoinder.
This conversation took place on the roadside not more than a few feetfrom a stone wall which bounded the outlying fields of the Applegateproperty. Behind this wall, if the four l
ads had known it, was concealeda listener to whom all their conversation was perfectly plain. Jared hadwatched the boys meeting from the dooryard and had crept cautiously alongbehind the stone wall till he arrived at a spot opposite that at whichthe group was chatting. "Listeners never hear good of themselves," saysthe old saw. Jared assuredly proved its truth that fine spring morning.
An evil look passed over his countenance as he crouched behind the wall.His sallow face grew a pasty yellow, with anger. His shifty eyesglittered furiously as he heard his record discussed.
"So that's the game, is it?" he muttered to himself, as the boys partedcompany, Fred Mainwaring shooting off like a red streak on his machine."Well, I guess that before long I'll have my innings, and when I do I'llmake it hot for all of you, especially old man Mainwaring. I'll get evenwith him if it takes me a year; but I don't think it'll be that long."
He drew a letter from his pocket and glanced over it in the manner of onealready familiar with a missive's contents, but who wishes, by a freshperusal, to satisfy himself once more. This is what he read from themuch-creased document:
"If you have what you claim we will talk business with you. It will bemade worth your while."
The letter bore no signature nor address. It referred to a subject withwhich the writer, for an excellent reason, would not have cared to havehis name linked. The "big ditch" project, the greatest of the age,perhaps of all time, had, inconceivable as it may seem, bitter andunscrupulous enemies. The person who had written that note to poor,sneaking Jared Applegate was one of these.