CHAPTER XVIII
THE HELPING HAND OF A SCOUT
When Jack, listening, caught the same sound, he turned upon hiscompanion with a serious expression on his face.
"Let's kick off our skates and hang our packs up in the crotch of thistree, Tom," he said.
"Then you expect to investigate, and find out what it means, do you?"
"We'd feel pretty mean if we went on our way like the Levite in theold story of the Good Samaritan," remarked Jack, busily disengaginghis bundle of fish which Abe had done up in a piece of old bagging.
"I'm the last one to do such a thing," asserted Tom, "only I chancedto remember that there are some tough boys up here somewhere--Hank andhis crowd--and I was wondering if this could be a trick to get us toput our fingers in a trap."
Jack chuckled, and held up his gun.
"We ought to be able to take care of ourselves with this," he told hischum.
"Right you are, Jack! So let's be on the jump. There! that soundedlike a big groan, didn't it? Somebody's in a peck of trouble. Maybe awood-chopper has had a tree fall on him or cut his foot with his axe,and is bleeding badly."
"Just what I had in mind," remarked the other, as they started intothe shrubbery.
The groans continued; therefore, the two scouts had no difficulty ingoing directly to the spot. In a few minutes Tom clutched his chum'ssleeve and pointed directly ahead.
"Ginger! it looks like Sim Jeffreys," he whispered.
"No other," added Jack.
"But what's the matter with the fellow?" continued Tom. "See how hekeeps tugging away at his right leg. I bet you he's gone and got itcaught in a root, and can't work it free. I've been through just suchan experience."
"We'll soon find out," remarked Jack, pushing forward.
"Be mighty careful, Jack," urged the other, not yet wholly convincedthat the groans were really genuine, for he knew how tricky SimJeffreys had always been.
By this time the other had become aware of their presence. He turnedan agonized face toward them, upon which broke a gleam of wild hope.If Sim Jeffreys were playing a part then, Jack thought, he must be aclever actor.
"Oh, say! ain't I glad to see you boys," he called, holding both hishands out toward them. "Come, help me get free from this pesky oldtrap here!"
"Trap!" echoed Tom. "Just what do you mean by that, Sim?"
"I ain't tryin' to fool you, boys. Sure I ain't!" exclaimed the other,anxiously. "Seems to me like an old bear trap, though I never saw onebefore. I was out with my gun, lookin' for partridges, when all of asudden it jumped up and grabbed me right by the leg."
Neither of the boys could believe this strange story until they hadtaken a look. Then they saw that it was just as Sim had declared. Thetrap was old and very rusty. Jack saw that it had lost much of itsformer fierce grip, which was lucky for poor Sim, for otherwise hemight have had his leg badly injured.
Still the jaws retained enough force to hold the boy securely; thoughhad Sim retained his presence of mind, instead of tugging wildly tobreak away, he might have found it possible to bear down on theweakened springs and set himself free.
Tom and Jack quickly did this service for the other, who was profusein his expressions of gratitude, though neither of the scouts believedin his sincerity, for Sim had a reputation for being slippery anddouble-faced.
"Why, I might have frozen to death here to-night," he told them. "Evenif I had lived till to-morrow I'd have starved sure. The bears wouldhave got me too, or the wildcats."
"Didn't you call when you first got caught?" asked Tom.
"I should say I did, till I could hardly whisper, but nobody seemed tohear me shout," came the reply, as Sim rubbed his swollen and painfulleg. "Guess I'll have to limp all the way back to the hole in therocks where the rest of the boys are campin'."
"How far away from here is it?" asked Jack, wondering whether theyought to do anything more for Sim or let him shift for himself.
"Oh, a mile and more, due west," the boy told them. "Where that hillstarts up, see? We haven't got much grub along with us, b'cause, yousee, we depended on shooting heaps of game. But so far I've knockeddown only one bird."
"Do you think you can make it, Sim?" persisted Jack.
The fellow limped around a little before replying.
"I reckon I kin. Though I'll be pretty sore to-morrow like as not,after this silly thing grabbin' me the way it did. I know my way home,boys, never fear, and I'll turn up there sooner or later. Much obligedfor your help."
With that Sim started off as though eager to get his hard work overwith. And as there was nothing more to be done, the two chums returnedto the creek, shouldered their heavy packs after resuming theirskates, and went on their way.
It was just about dusk when they made the cabin on the bank of SnakeCreek; and as the others discovered their burdens a shout of joy wentup.
"The country's safe," said Jud, "since you've brought home a stack offine pickerel. Let's see what they look like, fellows."
At sight of the big fish the boys were loud in their congratulations.
"Wouldn't mind having a try at that fun myself one of these days,"asserted Jud, enviously. "Paul, jot it down that I'm to be your sidepartner when you take a notion to go down to the lake."
"Some of you get busy here fixing the fish, if we mean to have themto-night," remarked Jack, who was too tired to think of doing ithimself.
"Too late for that this evening. We've got supper all ready for you.The fish will have to keep till to-morrow," announced Bobolink.
"What's this I smell in the air?" demanded Tom. "Don't tell me you'vebagged a deer already?"
"Just what we have!" said Bobolink, his eyes glistening so, that itrequired little effort to decide who the lucky hunter was.
"Why, he wasn't away from camp an hour," asserted Phil Towns, "when weheard him whooping, and in he came with a young buck on his back. Inever thought Bobolink was strong enough to tote that load a mile andmore."
"Huh! I'd have carried in an elephant if it had dropped to my gun, Ifelt that good!" declared the happy hunter.
"But all the adventures haven't fallen to you fellows who stayed herein camp or wandered about in the adjacent woods," announced Tom,mysteriously.
"What else have you been doing besides catching that dandy mess offish?" asked the scout-master, voicing the curiosity of the entirecrowd.
"Say! did you shoot some game, too--a deer, a wildcat, or maybe a bigblack bear?" demanded Bobolink, eagerly.
"No, the gun was never fired," continued Tom. "But we've got a rightto turn our badges over for this day, because we performed a GoodSamaritan act."
"Go on and tell us about it!" urged Sandy Griggs.
"We heard groans, and weak calls for help," said Tom, unable to keepback his news any longer, though he would have liked very much tocontinue tantalizing the others, "and after we had kicked off ourskates and hung our packs in a tree, we went over into the woods andfound----"
"What?" roared several of the curious scouts in unison.
"Who but our fellow townsman, Sim Jeffreys, whining and groaning tobeat the band," continued the narrator. "It seems that he had gotcaught in a trap, and expected to be frozen to death to-night, orstarve there to-morrow."
"A trap, did ye say?" asked Tolly Tip. And Paul noticed a sudden lookof enlightenment come into his face.
"Tell us what sort of a trap, Tom?" urged Bobolink.
"A regular bear trap!" replied the one addressed.
"Oh, come now! you're trying to play some sort of trick on us,fellows," cried Spider Sexton. "How ever would a real bear trap comethere?"
"Ask Tolly Tip," suggested Paul.
"That's right, lads, I know all about that trap," admitted the oldwoodsman, as he grinned at them. "I had an ole bear trap that hadlost its grip and wasn't wuth much. I sot the same in the woods, butnothin' iver kim nigh it, and so I jest forgets all about the same.But bless me sowl I niver dramed it'd be afther grippin' a lad by theleg. All he had to do wa
s to push down on the springs, and he'd beenloose."
"I could see that plainly enough," admitted Jack. "The trouble was Simfell into a panic as soon as he found himself caught, and all he coulddo was to squirm and pull and shout and groan. It shows thefoolishness of letting a thing scare you out of your seven senses."
"But do you mean to say there are real, live bears around here, TollyTip?" demanded Bobolink, his eyes nearly round with excitement.
"There's one rogue av a bear that I've tried to git for this two year,but by the same token he's been too smart for the likes av me."
"That interests me a whole lot," remarked Paul; "and I mean to devotemuch of my spare time to trying to shoot that same bear with my camerain order to get a flashlight picture of him in his native haunts!"