Brent pointed at the sheriff with the floppy end of his sleeve and said,"You and your minions are charged with trespassing upon the property ofJolly & Kidder, Inc., New York. Wait till I roll up my sleeves so I canpoint better. Who _dares_ to stand in the way of the Boy Scouts ofAmerica?"
"Thar's a convict missin' from araound these parts," the constable said;"who are you, anyway, and your friend thar?"
Brent said, "We represent the Archibald Abbington Uncle Tom's CabinCompany who are touring the country, drawing laughter and tears withtheir excruciating and heart-rending drama, and I am in search of one ofour ferocious bloodhounds. We are in partnership with the Boy Scouts ofAmerica and any one attempting to interfere with our noble effort to putan end to slavery will be punished to the full extent of the law. Whenwe have an opportunity we will endeavor to find your convict for you.Please stand aside, everybody, and allow the procession to pass."
CHAPTER XXVII--ANOTHER DISCOVERY
Brent stumbled up the step and stood in back of the van, holding histrousers up with one hand and waving the other hand in the air.
"Free ride to the Veterans' Reunion at Grumpy's Cross-roads!" he beganshouting. "Children and veterans free! We take you but do not bring youback. No connection with criminals and convicts! Free ride to thecarnival. Veterans welcome! All aboard for the carnival! Hail to theGrand Army of the Republic and the Boy Scouts of America. Hurrah forJolly & Kidder, New York's great cash store! Step inside, veterans!"
Pretty soon an old man with an old blue army cap came hobbling out ofthe crowd, and Harry helped him up into the van. That was a starter. Menbegan bringing boxes from the Post Office and putting them in the vanfor seats. Most of the mothers wouldn't let their children go becausethere wasn't any way for them to get back, but the veterans didn't seemto mind that. We got three veterans in Barrow's Homestead and thenstarted out. I don't know what the constable thought, but we shouldworry about that. All the people cheered us and gave us a fine send-off.Pee-wee said they were stricken with remorse--I guess he got that out ofa movie play.
We stopped for a couple of spark plugs and to get the timer of the vanadjusted, and a lot of the kids followed us as far as the end of thetown.
Harry drove the van and Brent drove the touring car, and Pee-wee and Isat with Brent.
I said, "I wish you'd tell us about your adventures, you crazy Indian. Ithought we were in for a lot of trouble in that village. You've got meguessing. Anyway you escaped like you said you were going to do. But I'dlike to know where you came from and where you got that bunch of rags."
He said, "You should never laugh at honest rags. Beneath these ragsbeats a noble heart. Boys, I am sick of crime and I am going to reform."That's just the way he talked, the crazy Indian. He said, "I have had myfondest wish, I have been a convict--a villyan. I have languished in adark moving van, I have foiled the shrewdest people in the world, theboy scouts--not. Would you like to hear the story of my evil career? Ibegan life as an honest boy. I never stole but once in my life and thatwas when I stole second base in a ball game."
I said, "Will you stop your jollying and tell us what happened?"
He said, "Posilutely I will. There were two boy scouts sitting on thestep outside the Jolly & Kidder state prison. I was inside in myconvicts' stripes."
"Were you languishing?" Pee-wee piped up.
Brent said, "No, I was eating a banana. I said two scouts, but really itwas only about one and a half. They were supposed to be alert,observant, resourceful."
I said, "That's right, rub it into us."
He said, "While they were arguing on the back step I stood upon agrocery box and crawled through the little window in back of the frontseat. I was _free_, like Monte Carlo--I mean Monte Cristo--"
"You mean Monticello," I told him.
"You mean Montenegro," Pee-wee put in.
"The world seemed bright and new," Brent said.
"You're crazy," I told him; "go on, where did you get those clothes?"
He said, "Shh. Can I count on you never to breathe a word? The man I gotthese clothes from lies dead in yonder swamp."
"Who put him there?" Pee-wee wanted to know.
Brent said, "Shh, I did. The man was innocent. He was standing in afield beyond the swamp. He was doing no harm. I approached him, crawlingthrough the grass."
"What was he doing there?" Pee-wee wanted to know.
"He was scaring away crows," Brent said.
"_He was a scarecrow_!" I blurted out.
"A harmless, innocent, hard working scarecrow," Brent said. "As I thinkof it now----"
BRENT CAPTURED A SCARECROW.]
"You make me tired!" Pee-wee yelled. "Why didn't you say so?"
Brent said, "His trustful, happy, carefree face haunts me now. He wasonly scaring away the crows----"
"You give me a pain!" the kid shouted. "You're crazy."
Brent said, "But I thought of my dungeon in the Jolly & Kidder van andof my brutal keepers, those two boy scouts--asleep on the back step. Isaid to myself, 'I will never return whither----'"
"You mean thither," Pee-wee said.
"I said to myself, 'They will have to kill me to take me alive,'" Brentsaid.
"Anyway, you killed him?" I asked him.
He said, "I killed him in cold blood--anyway it wasn't more thanlukewarm. I tore him to pieces and took his clothes and concealed mytelltale convict stripes under a weeping willow. It was weeping its eyesout."
"It's a wonder it wasn't laughing," I told him.
He said, "The poor fellow was as thin as a stick; his arms were made ofa cross stick, I think it was a broom stick. He lies under the marshgrass in yonder swamp. And I am free!"
"You're crazy too," the kid shouted.
"I said I would escape and I did," Brent began to laugh. "I decided thatI would escape from the very people who claim to be the most alert andwide-awake--the boy scouts. You say I'm crazy. Very well, even a crazyperson can foil the boy scouts. I suppose that's what you call logic."
"That's what you call nonsense," Pee-wee yelled.
"I hope you boys had a good nap while I was escaping," Brent said. "Itwas a shame to do it, it was so easy. I tried to leave good plainfootprints, I did all that an honest convict could to help you, but invain. I doubt if the boy scouts could trail a steam roller. As for theauthorities of Barrow's Homestead ... but I've seen enough of crime andits evil results." That's just the way he talked. "Henceforth I mean tobe honest."
"You're a nut, that's what you are!" Pee-wee shouted.
Brent said, awful kind of heroic like, he said, "Ha! Sayest thou so?Then glance at this paper."
I said, "What is it? Where did you get it?"
"I got it out of the inside pocket of this old coat," he said; "and itmeans mischief. _Shh_, no one has seen it but Harry Domicile; he agreeswith me that it has to do with a dark plot."
"You mean you found it in the scarecrow's pocket?" Pee-wee asked him,all excited.
"I found it in the scarecrow's inside pocket," Brent said. "I don'tthink the scarecrow knew it was there. It is very mysterious. I think weare on the track of a new mystery. That anybody who wore a black frockcoat should have had such a paper in his possession is very strange. Itis no wonder the crows shunned him."
CHAPTER XXVIII--A MYSTERIOUS PAPER
Brent handed me the paper and Pee-wee nearly pushed me off the seatsticking his head way over and trying to read it. I have to admit it wasmighty interesting what was on that paper. The more Pee-wee stared at itthe bigger his eyes got, and it had _me_ guessing, too.
All the while, Brent just sat there driving the machine as if he wasn'tinterested in the paper at all. He said, "You seem to like it. I pick uppapers like that every day. If you don't care for that one, just say soand I'll dig you up another; I'll find you German spy maps, lost patentpapers of wonderful inventions, mortgage papers stolen by villyans,anything you say; just say the word."
"If you don't care for this one, don't b
e afraid to say so. I know wherethere are some documents about a dark anarchist plot. Do you care aboutanarchist plots? Some people like them and others don't; it's just amatter of taste."
I said, "_Good night_, this will do for me."
Pee-wee said, all excited, "Maybe it means millions of dollars; maybe itmeans bars of gold. We'll solve the mystery, hey?"
"Oh, just as you say," Brent said; "you know my stand on mysteries andadventures; I eat them raw."
That paper was all old and yellow and when we opened it I had to hold iton my knee, because it tore where the creases were. I guess maybe it wasas old as ten years. It looked as if it had been torn out of amemorandum book and the writing was made with a lead pencil and it waskind of blurred, but anyway, this is what it said:
Snake Creek. North shore from Ohio R. to Skeleton Cove, Top of S Cove. Follow line due north from willow. Cons to west. Stake. Measure ninety-two feet along north line, then follow line due NW through T.W. Stake. Treasure at HW limit, indicated at AN Stake. Follow S line south to pie.
Pee-wee said, very mysterious like, "What da you think it is? It tellswhere there's buried treasure, doesn't it?"
"Sure it does," I said. "It sounds just like the directions in the _GoldBug_ by Edgar Allan Poe."
"It sounds just like _Treasure Island_," Pee-wee put in.
Brent said, "Well, I don't know. I was thinking about it and I decidedthat it's a bill of fare."
"A what?" Pee-wee shouted.
"You see it's got stake and pie on it," Brent said.
"You make me tired!" the kid fairly yelled. "That paper shows whereburied treasure is hidden."
Brent said, "Well then, that scarecrow must have been a pirate in hisyounger days. He had an evil past and I'm glad I killed him."
"You seem to think it's a joke," I said; "but it tells where there'sburied treasure, that's one sure thing. You can't make anything else outof it--can you?"
Brent said, "Buried treasure's good enough for _me_--gold or stakes orpies, I don't care. I'd like to dig up a few buckwheat cakes just now."
"Do you know what you are? Do you know what you are?" the kid beganshouting. "You're a Philippine--that's what you are!"
I said, "You mean a philistine--that's a person that makes fun of thingsand doesn't believe anything."
Brent said, "The only time I ever went after buried treasure I was_foiled_ by the boy scouts. Never again. They wouldn't chop down a treeunder which the treasure was buried because they loved trees."
"This isn't under a tree," Pee-wee said; "it's in a cove--on the end ofa line due north. That's different. That's always the kind of a placewkere treasure is--in a cove. You can tell by the names that there'streasure there--Snake Creek and Skeleton Cove and lines due north andwillows and everything. It says _treasure_, doesn't it? What more do youwant?"
"Only where's the place?" Brent said.
"We'll find it," Pee-wee said; "we'll find it if we, if we--drop in ourtracks."
Brent said, "That's something I've always longed to do--drop in mytracks. I'd like to be rescued by a St. Bernard dog."
I said, "_Good night_, have a heart. There are dogs enough in thisseries of thrilling adventures."
Brent said, "Well anyway, this is the only story of adventure that has ascarecrow for a villain. What d'ye say?"
XXIX--THE MYSTERY DEEPENS
Brent said, "Well, as long as you like my little mystery, we might aswell take a peep into it. We may have a couple of hairbreadth escapes,you never can tell. By rights, we ought to quarrel over the treasureafter we have found it, and all kill each other. That's the way theyusually do."
"They don't do that way any more," Pee-wee said; "they divide it up."
Brent said, "No, I insist on quarreling over it."
He folded the paper and put it back in his pocket. It seemed funny for apaper like that to be in an old black frock coat like ministers wear. Ihad to laugh at Brent on account of the sober way he tucked it back intothe pocket.
I said, "It's got _me_ interested, that's one sure thing. But how are wegoing to find out where that place is?"
He said, "Well, the proper way would be for us just to fit out anexpedition and go in search of it like old what's-his-name who huntedfor the soda fountain down in Florida."
Pee-wee said, "Ponce de Leon, he hunted for the Fountain of Youth."
"But the best way," Brent said, "if you're really interested, is for usto get hold of a map of the Ohio River when we hit Indianapolis. Wecross the Ohio at Wheeling and if that old creek is anywhere in ourneighborhood we'll see if we can hoe up a few nuggets. That's the properthing, isn't it--nuggets?"
"Nuggets and pieces of eight," Pee-wee said, very serious.
Brent said that we had enough on our minds then, with the Uncle Tom'sCabin people and the Veterans' Reunion, and that we'd better get along,especially as Harry with the van had almost caught up to us.
But one more thing happened before we got very far from Barrow'sHomestead, and it threw some light on the mystery--that's what Pee-weesaid. A man in a pair of overalls came along the road and Brent stoppedto ask him a couple of questions. While the machine was standing there,the van passed us. Gee, there were a lot of people in it and on it andall over.
Harry said, "Do you want us to tow you? Come on, hurry up, you'll belate for the show. We've got Sherman's march through Georgia beat ahundred ways."
Brent said, "Don't bother us, we're chasing after nuggets." Then he saidto the man, "You don't happen to know who owns that land beyond themarsh down at the other end of town, do you? Before you get to the PostOffice? There's a big cornfield there."
I whispered to Pee-wee, "Keep your mouth shut, now, and don't tell himabout good turns."
The man said, "Yer mean swamp acres? That's part o' th' old DeaconSnookbeck place."
Brent said, "Yes. Who's he?"
"Wa'l, he ain't," the man said, "but he was. Th' best thing I can sayabaout that ole codger is, he's dead."
Brent rested his arms on the steering wheel and talked kind of careless,sort of. He said, "I was just wondering if the place was for sale. So hewas a queer ole codger, the deacon, hey?"
The man said, "Yes, en' more'n that as I've heared tell. I guess youngSnookbeck ain't calc'latin' on sellln' th' place. I reckon nobody raoundthese parts is wantin' ter buy it, neither. Yer see thar was a kind of amystery 'baout ole Ebenezer. Some folks even say his haouse is hauntedby a chap he murdered. But I reckon he wasn' as bad as all that."
Oh, boy, you should have seen Pee-wee! He just sat there staring, hiseyes as big as dinner plates. He didn't say a word, only just stared.
Brent said, "House of mystery, hey? The Frock-coated Villyan! That wouldbe a good name for a photoplay, huh?"
That man leaned his elbow on the side of the car and said, kind offriendly like, as if we were special friends of his, he said, "Wa'l,'baout, let's see, nigh onter ten year ago, thar was a couple of youngchaps wearin' khaki like you chaps, come out this way en they wuzrootin' raound on th' deacon's farm. They weren't plantin', that wassure; and they weren't no farm hands. Nobody seemed jest able ter findout ezactly what they were, 'cause they never talked ter nobody. AuntJosie Anne, daown th' road a piece, asked one uv 'em who he thought hewas. He said he thought he was Santa Claus, but he wasn' sure. They wuzkind o' comics, both uv 'em. Wa'l, I ain't ashamed ter tell no man who Iam."
Brent said, "You're right," just sort of to encourage him to talk.
The man said, "Wa'l, they stayed at th' deacon's house 'n' one nightthey wuz out with a lantern in the middle of the night, under the bigtree near th' deacon's haouse. Steub Berry, he 'laowed they wuz buryin'treasure thar. Some folks had it them two strangers wuz Mexican spies'n' others reckoned they wuz army deserters. Th' ole deacon, he jes'laughed and said we couldn' guess. He wouldn' deny nuthin'. All of asudden, _ker-bang_, they disappeared jes' like that 'n' some folks saidth' deacon murdered both uv 'em ter git th' treasure. My wife, she allushad it, they
come off some ranch or other with a lot uv stealin's. Wa'l,'twas a nine days' wonder 'n arter that folks kinder fought shy of th'deacon."
Brent said, "And he's dead now?"
"Oh, deader'n a mummy," the man said. "When the world war come somefolks said as haow that pair might a been German spies all th' while,kind uv studying 'raound. But young Snookbeck he says if old Ebenezerhad anything hid it would be in his Bible, en' 's long 's 'tain't thar,'tain't nowhere. But that's treasure hid somewhere, I say, 'cause themwuz mighty funny doin's of them strangers. Yer goin' ter th' reunionover t' 'he Cross-roads?"
CHAPTER XXX--WE MAKE A PROMISE
As soon as we had started, Brent said, "Well, it doesn't look half bad,does it?"
"Do you know who those fellows were? Do you know who those fellowswere?" our young hero fairly screamed.
"I think they came from Mars," Brent said; "that's the way it looks tome."
I said, "You can joke but it's pretty serious."
"They were _smugglers_ that's what they were," Pee-wee shouted.
"They were either smugglers or book-agents," Brent said. "In either casethey deserved to be murdered. Maybe they were introducing a new kind ofsoap----"
"You make me sick," Pee-wee yelled; "there's treasure somewhere andwe're going to find it! It's at HW limit, it said so, HW means somethingabout _hollow well_, I bet you."
Brent said, "Maybe it means hot waffles; there's a whole table d'hotedinner in that paper. Maybe it means Hamburger wheat cakes. Anyway, theOhio River is a long way from Barrow's Homestead."