CHAPTER III.
IN THE DESERTED LOG CABIN.
"KEEP your eyes about you!" shouted Davy Jones; "mebbe there's morewhere that stone came from!"
But after the rock had settled quietly in the road, silence again fellupon the scene; a little trickle of dirt glided down the face of thedescent, in the track the round rock had made; but that was all.
"Whew! that's a pretty hefty stone, believe me, fellers!" cried StepHen.
"Whatever loosened it, d'ye s'pose?" asked Giraffe, who had jumpedseveral feet when he heard the alarm given; for his recent adventure inthe bed of the treacherous stream seemed to have unnerved the tall boy,usually as brave as the next scout.
Thad stepped forward. The others saw him bend over the big rock that hadjust played such a queer trick, narrowly missing falling among thegathered scouts.
"Look at Thad, would you?" exclaimed Step Hen.
"What's he taking out of that crack in the rock?" Giraffe added. "Say,looks like a dirty piece of paper; and that's what it is, sure asshootin', fellers!"
"A message from the enemy; p'raps he's goin' to Surrenderunconditionally--ain't that the way they always put it?" Bumpus calledout, in high glee.
Thad, however, after glancing down at the paper he had extracted fromthe crack in the rock, looked serious. Evidently to him at least it wasno laughing matter.
"What does she say, Thad?" demanded Giraffe, always curious.
"Sure, if we've got any right to know, read it out, Mr. Scout Master,"Bumpus echoed, in his merry way, his eyes shining with eagerness.
The scouts clustered around Thad as he once again held the scrap ofsoiled paper up so he could see the comparatively few words scrawledupon it with a pencil, that must have been a mere stub, since itevidently had to be frequently wet in order to make it do duty.
"It's brief, and to the point, I give you my word, boys," he said."Here, let me hold it up, and every one of you can push in to read foryourselves. The writer believes in making his words correspond withtheir sound. With that for a tip you ought to be able to make it out."
And this, then, was what they read, as they bunched together on themountain road running through the valley of the Smoky Range:
"Beter tak my advis an skip outen this neck ov the woods. The men roundheer aint gut no use fo you-uns in thes mountings. That's awl. Savvy?"
There was no signature to the communication.
"Well, that's cool, to say the least," remarked Allan, after he had readthe uncouth note that had come down with the rock that fell from above.
"Tells us to turn right around, and go back," declared Giraffe, who wasinclined to be peppery, and a bit rash. "Now, I like the nerve of thegent. Just as if we didn't have as much right to wander through thesemountains and valleys as the next one."
"We're minding our own business, and I don't see how anybody would wantto shoo us away from here," said Smithy, brushing off some imaginaryspecks of dust from his neat khaki uniform, always spic and span incomparison with--that of Bumpus for example, showing the marks of many atumble.
Thad was rather puzzled himself. He knew that it would be hardly wisefor a parcel of boys to deliberately defy such a notorious character asOld Phin the moonshiner, whom the Government had never been able tocapture; but then again there was a natural reluctance in his boyishheart to retreat before making some sort of show with regard to carryingout their original design.
Besides, when he happened to glance toward Bob White, and saw howcruelly disappointed the Southern boy looked, Thad immediately changedhis mind. Still, he wanted to hear what his comrades thought about it;since they had long gone by the wise principle that majority rules.
"Shall we take this kind advice, and go back, boys?" he asked.
A chorus of eager dissenting voices greeted his words.
"Not for Joseph, not if he knows it!" Giraffe chortled.
"We never turn back, after once we've placed our hand to the plow,"remarked the pompous Smithy; and his sentiment was cheered to the echo.
"Take a vote on it, Thad," advised the sagacious Allan, knowing that iftrouble came along after they had decided to continue the advance, itwould be just as well to point to the fact that by an _overwhelmingmajority_ the patrol had decided upon this rash course.
Every fellow held up his hand when Thad put the question as to whetherthey should continue the mountain hike. And the sad look vanished fromthe dark face of Bob White, as dew does before the morning sun.
So the march was immediately resumed, and nothing happened to disturbtheir peace of mind or body. No more rocks came tumbling down the faceof the mountain; and as the afternoon advanced they found themselvesgetting deeper and deeper into the heart of the uplifts.
"Wow! but this is a lonesome place, all right," remarked Step Hen,looking up at the lofty ridges flanking their course. "I give you myword for it I'd hate to be caught out nights alone in this gayneighborhood. If ever there was a spooky den, this is it, right here.Glad to have company; such as it is, fellers."
No one took any notice of the pretended slur. The fact was, the scoutsno longer straggled along the road as before that incident of thefalling rock. They seemed to feel a good deal like Step Hen expressedit, that under the circumstances it was a good thing to have company. Inunion there was strength; and eight boys can do a great deal towardbuoying up one another's drooping courage.
"And say, looks more like a storm comin' waltzin' along than everbefore," Bumpus observed, as he nodded his head toward the heavens,which were certainly looking pretty black about that time.
"Thought I heard a grumble, like thunder away off in the distance; mighta been that same Old Phin Dady speakin' his mind some more, though,"remarked Giraffe.
"Only a little further, suh, and we'll come to an old abandoned logcabin, unless my calculations are wrong; which ought to serve us for ashelter to-night," was the cheering news from Bob White, who wassupposed to know this country like a book.
"Bully for the log cabin!" ejaculated Bumpus, who, being heavy in build,could not stand a long hike as well as some other fellows, the tallGiraffe, for instance, whose long legs seemed just made for coveringground rapidly.
Ten minutes later Davy Jones, who had pushed to the van, gave a shout.
"There's your deserted log cabin!" he remarked, pointing. "Am I correct,Bob?"
"You surely are, suh," replied the Southerner. "And as I fail to seesmoke coming from the chimney at the back, it looks to me as thoughnobody had got ahead of us there. If the roof only holds, we can laughat the rain, believe me."
When the scouts hurried up to the cabin, for there was now no longer anydoubt about the storm being close at hand, since lightning flashed andthe grumble of thunder had changed into a booming that grew louder withevery peal, they found to their great satisfaction that it seemed in afair state of preservation, despite the fact that it must have been leftto the sport of the elements for many a long year.
"Nothing wrong with this, boys," announced the scoutmaster, as theypushed inside the log house, and looked around. "And if we know half asmuch as we think we do, there'll be a pile of wood lying here beforethat rain drops down on us. Just remember that we've got a whole nightahead."
"Hurrah! that's the ticket! Get busy everybody. We don't belong to theBeaver Patrol, but we can work just as well as if we did. Whoop her up,fellers!"
Bumpus was as good as his words. Dropping his haversack and staff in acorner, he pushed out of the door. Although the evening was beingushered in sooner than might have been expected, owing to the swoop ofthe storm, there was still plenty of light to see where dry wood was tobe picked up for the effort. And immediately every one of the eightscouts was working furiously to bring in a good supply.
No doubt the rattle of the thunder caused the boys to hurry things; forby the time the first drops began to fall they had secured as much asthey expected to use. And already there was Giraffe on his knees infront of the big fireplace that lay at the foot of the wide-throatedchimney, whittli
ng shavings with which to start a cheery blaze.
This had just started into life when the rattle of a horse's hoofs cameto the ears of the boys who had clustered at the door to witness thebreaking of the summer storm.
"Hey! looks like another pilgrim overtaken by the gale," said DavyJones, as a man on horseback came riding furiously along the wretchedroad, heading straight for the old cabin; as though he knew of itspresence, and might indeed have found its shelter acceptable on otheroccasions.
He was evidently greatly astonished to find the place already occupiedby a bevy of boys dressed in khaki uniforms. At first Thad thought hecould see an expression akin to fear upon the thin face of the man, whoseemed to be something above the average mountaineer; possibly thekeeper of a country store among the mountains; or it might be a doctor;a lawyer, or a county surveyor, for he had rather a professional airabout him.
Allan had immediately assured him that they were only seeking temporaryshelter in the old cabin, and that he would be quite welcome to share itwith them until the storm blew over, or as long as he wished to stay.
As the man, leaving his horse tied outside to take the rain as it came,pushed inside the cabin, Thad saw Bob White suddenly observe him withkindling eyes. Then to his further surprise he noticed that the Southernboy drew the rim of his campaign hat further down over his eyes, asthough to keep his face from being recognized by the newcomer.
Another minute, and Bob had drawn the young scoutmaster aside, towhisper in his ear a few words that aroused Thad's curiosity to theutmost.
"That is Reuben Sparks, the guardian of my little cousin Bertha, a cruelman, who hates our whole family. He must not recognize me, or it mightspoil one of my main objects in coming down here into the Blue Ridgevalleys. Warn the boys when you can, please Thad, not to mention me onlyas Bob White. Oh! I wonder if this meeting is only an accident; or wasguided by the hand of fate?"