CHAPTER II. SIGHING FOR TROUBLE.
"Well, I'm sorry, that's all!" ejaculated Step Hen.
"What at?" demanded Giraffe; "we ought to be puffed up with pride overour success, and here you go to pulling a long face. What ails you, StepHen?"
"It's just this way," muttered the scout addressed disconsolately; "wenever did run across a better chance to have a great time than when westarted out on this hobo chase; and here it's turned out too easy foranything. Shucks! a tenderfoot might have followed that Wandering Georgeright along to here; and now all we've got to do is to surround the camp,and make him fork over that old blue coat the judge loves so well. It's ashame, that's what!"
"I feel something the same way you do, Step Hen," remarked Allan; "why, Ifigured on doing all sorts of smart stunts while we were on this hike;and here, before a chance comes along, we corral our game!"
"I'm just as sorry as you, suh," observed the Southern boy, with theaccent that stamped him a true Dixie lad; "but I reckon now you wouldn'thave Thad tell us to sheer off, and give the hoboes a chance to run away,just to let us keep up this chase. We promised to recover that old armycoat for the judge, and for one I'd be ashamed to look him in the faceagain, suh, if we let it slip through our fingers on account of wantingto lengthen the sport."
"That's the right sort of talk, Bob White," said Thad, with a nod of hishead, and a sparkle in his eyes. "Much as we all like the sport ofshowing what we know in the way of woodcraft, duty comes first. And wecouldn't shirk our responsibility in this case just to gratify our likingfor action."
"What's the program, then, Thad?" asked Smithy, yawning as though he didnot feel quite as much interest in the chase as some of the others; forSmithy of late, Thad noticed with regret, was apparently losing some ofhis former vigor, and acting as though ready to shirk his duty when itdid not happen to appeal to him very strongly.
"We can have a little fun out of the thing by planning a completesurround, can't we, Thad?" asked Step Hen eagerly.
"I hope you say yes to that, Mr. Scout Master," added Giraffe; "becauseit'll be apt to take some of the sting out, after having our game come tosuch a sudden end."
"I was going to say something along those lines, boys, if you had letme," Thad told them. "So far the tramps have given no sign that theysuspect our being here. We'll arrange it so as to surround the camp, andthen at a signal from me everybody stand up and show themselves. I'llarrange it so that we'll make a complete circle around the fire, and todo that we'll move in couples."
He immediately paired them off, and each detachment was told what wasexpected of it in making the move a practical success.
Even in these apparently small matters Thad proved himself a capablecommander, for he picked out the most able to undertake the difficultpart of the work, while to Smithy and Bumpus was delegated the easiertask of crawling along the side of the road until they found shelterclose to the hoboes' fire.
Giraffe and Step Hen were ordered to cross to the other side of the roadand, making a little detour, came up from the north. The remaining fourscouts branched off to the south, and it was the intention of Thad,taking Davy Jones along, to continue the enveloping movement until hecould approach from the opposite quarter, which would mean along the roadin the other direction.
Meanwhile Bob White and Allan would be taking positions to the south, andthen curbing their impatience until Thad had signaled and learned thatall of them were in place.
This was a most interesting piece of work for the boys. They delighted injust such practices, and for the simple reason that it enabled them tobring to bear on the matter all the knowledge they had managed toaccumulate connected with the real tactics of scouting, as practiced byhunters and Indians, as well as the advance guard of an army sent out to"feel" of the enemy's lines.
At a certain point Thad gave Allan and Bob White the sign that they wereto turn to one side, and begin advancing toward the smoke again, while heand Davy would keep straight on.
They did not have to creep as yet, but kept bending low, in order torender the risk of being discovered as small as possible. Later on,however, as they headed toward the hub of the wheel, which was marked bythe cooking fire, Thad and his companion did not hesitate to flattenthemselves out on occasion, and do some pretty fine wriggling in passingfrom one patch of leafless bushes to another.
Every time they raised their heads cautiously to look, Davy would giveone of his little chuckles, telling that the situation was eminentlysatisfactory, so far as he could see.
The two men were still hovering over their miserable little fire, whichwas such a poor excuse for a cooking blaze that any practical scout mustcurl his lip in disdain, knowing how easy it is to manage so as to havered coals, instead of smoky wood, when doing the cooking.
Davy could see that there was no longer the first question about theirbeing genuine tramps. A dozen signs pointed to this fact; and he foundhimself wondering which of the pair would turn out to be WanderingGeorge.
He did not see the faded blue army coat on either of them; but then itwould be only natural for the possessor to discard this extra weight whenkeeping so close to a warm blaze. Doubtless, the object of their searchwould be found nearby, used in lieu of a blanket, to cover the form ofthe new owner as he slept in the open, or in some farmer's haystack.
Several of the scouts carried guns, even Bumpus having so burdenedhimself in the hope that during their chase after the lost army coat theymight happen to run across some game worth taking, in order to lendadditional zest to the outing.
As Thad and Davy had chosen the longest task in making for the furtherside of the hobo camp, they could take it for granted when they finallyreached the position the scout leader had in his eye, that all of theother detachments must by then have arrived.
To test this Thad gave a peculiar little sound that was as near like thebark of a fox as possible. Every member of the patrol had in times pastperfected himself in making just that sort of sound, and of course theywould immediately recognize it as the signal of the scout master,desirous of knowing whether all of them had gained their positions.
There came an immediate "ha! ha!" from across the road, and also fromdeeper in the woods, where Allan and Bob White were lying; but none fromBumpus and Smithy. Evidently, something had happened to cause a delaythere. Thinking they had what they might call a "snap," the two slowmoving scouts covering this quarter had delayed their advance too long,and were now holding back.
As the tramps, however, had heard those strange barking sounds comingfrom three quarters, and jumped to their feet in alarm, Thad did notconsider it wise to delay the exposure of their presence any longer.Accordingly, he gave a shrill whistle that was well known to the others.
Imagine the consternation of the hobo campers when from behind concealingbushes they saw figures in khaki rise up, some of them bearingthreatening guns. Even Bumpus and Smithy followed suit, though not asnear the fire as the rest.
Perhaps the first thought of the alarmed tramps was that they weresurrounded by a detachment of the militia, for the sight of those khakisuits must have stunned them. Before they could gather their witstogether to think of resistance Thad was heard to call out with militaryprecision:
"Close in on all sides; and keep them well covered, boys!"
At that those who carried guns made out to aim them, and their manner wasso threatening that both hoboes immediately elevated their hands, asthough desirous of letting their captors see that they did not expect tooffer the slightest resistance.
Slowly the scouts came forward, converging toward the common center,which of course was the smoky fire, alongside of which those two oldtomato cans stood, each secured at the end of a bunch of metal ribs takenfrom a cast-off umbrella.
That successful surround would have made a picture worthy of being framedand hung upon the wall of their meeting room in the home town, some ofthe scouts may have proudly thought, as they walked slowly forward,thr
illed with the consciousness of power.
The tramps kept turning around, to stare first at one pair of boys andthen at another lot, as though hardly knowing whether they were awake ordreaming.
If they had guilty consciences, connected with stolen chickens, or otherfarm products, they must have believed that the strong arm of the law hadfound them out, and that the next thing on the program would be theirbeing marched off to some country town lockup.
"Aw! it's too, too easy, that's what!" grumbled Step Hen disconsolately.
"Like taking candy from the baby!" added Giraffe, who always liked tohave some spice connected with their adventures, and could not bear theidea of being on a team that outclassed its rival in every department; atough struggle was what appealed to him every time, though of course hewanted the victory to eventually settle on the banner of the Silver FoxPatrol.
"Makes me think of that old couplet we used to say about old Alexander,"Bumpus here thought it policy to remark, just to show them that he toohoped there might have been some warm action before the trampssurrendered; "let's see, how does she go? 'Alexander with ten thousandmen, marched up the Alps, and down again!'"
"Mebbe it was Hannibal you're thinking about, Bumpus," suggested StepHen; "but it don't matter much who did it, we've gone and copied afterhim. I say, we ought to go home by a roundabout course, so as to try andstir things up some. This is sure too easy a job for scouts that havebeen through all we have."
The tramps were listening, and eagerly drinking in all that was said;perhaps a faint hope had begun to possess them that after all thingsmight not turn out to be quite as bad as first appearances wouldindicate.
"Thad, it's up to you to claim that coat now, so we can evacuate thiscamp," observed Smithy, who was observed to be pinching his nose withthumb and forefinger, as though the near presence of the tattered hoboesoffended his olfactory nerves; for as has been said before, the Smith boyhad been a regular dude at the time he joined the patrol, and even atthis late day the old trait occasionally cropped out.
Thad looked around at his comrades, and somehow when they saw the smileon his face a feeling bordering on consternation seized hold of them.
"What is it, Thad?" asked Davy Jones solicitously.
"Yes, why don't you tell us to get what we came after, and fly the coop?"demanded Giraffe, who did not fancy being so close to the ill-favoredtramps much more than the elegant Smithy did.
"There's nothing doing, fellows," said the acting scout master, with aneloquent shrug of his shoulders that carried even more weight than hiswords.
"What!" almost shrieked Step Hen, "do you mean to tell us that we're onthe wrong trail, and that neither of these gents is the one we want,Wandering George?"
"That's just what ails us," admitted Thad; "we counted our chickensbefore they were hatched, that's all. Stop and remember the descriptionswe've had of this Wandering George, and you'll see how we've been barkingup the wrong tree!"
All eyes were immediately and eagerly focused on the faces of the twowondering hoboes. At the same time, no doubt, there was passing througheach boy's mind that description of the man who had gone off with thefaded army overcoat, and which had been their mainstay in the way of aclew, while following the trail.