Читать книгу Boy Scout Explorers at Emerald Valley - Don Palmer - Страница 5

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Keeping out of view, Ken and Jack followed the stranger from a discreet distance. Unaware that he was being trailed, the man walked swiftly along the lonely cemetery road.

Once as he passed a street light, the two Explorers caught a fleeting glimpse of his face. They gained an impression of an individual with a large, flat nose and square jaw.

“Ever see him before?” Jack whispered.

“Only in that car,” Ken replied. “He’s a tough looking egg. He might give us a rough time if he catches us trailing him.”

To be on the safe side, the two fell farther back. It was well that they took the precaution, for unexpectedly, the man paused and glanced back into the darkness.

Ken and Jack froze. They remained motionless, and after a moment, the stranger went on again.

“Wow! That was a close call,” Jack muttered. “We’ll have to be more careful than ever now.”

“Where’s this bird going anyhow?” Ken demanded.

His interest had heightened, for the one they followed, had left the winding cemetery road. Walking fast, he cut through the trees, avoiding the area where tombstones had been erected.

“Evidently, he doesn’t come here to visit any of the graves,” Jack observed.

To avoid losing sight of the stranger, the Explorers quickened their own pace. Suddenly, Ken placed a restraining hand on Jack’s arm. They both halted.

Ahead, only dimly visible, they could see that the one they pursued, had halted beside a wooden barrier fence.

For an instant, they thought that the man intended to climb over.

Instead, he walked along the barrier for a short distance. Then, squatting down, he began to dig in the soft earth.

“What’s he doing?” Ken muttered in astonishment.

“Looking for something that’s been buried, I’ll bet!”

As the two watched, the man suddenly ceased digging. Apparently satisfied, he replaced the thin layer of dirt he had removed, and covered the area with leaves.

Then, he started back through the woods the way he had come. Ken and Jack barely had time to secret themselves behind trees before he passed them.

“He’s going back to his car now,” Jack predicted, after the man had disappeared in the darkness. “What do you make of it, Ken?”

“He’s been here several times before. We know that. Let’s see what’s under those leaves.”

Going on to the fence, the Explorers quickly cleared a small area to locate the spot where the stranger had dug.

Jack removed a little dirt with his bare hands. “Wish I had a shovel or a spade!” he complained.

“Maybe that fellow has a pet buried here,” Ken suggested.

Jack straightened up, knocking dirt from his hands. “You would shatter the illusion!” he accused. “I was figuring on bringing up a box of gold. Enough to take us to Colombia!”

“Whatever is planted here is down deep,” Ken said. “We can’t bring it up without some tools.”

“Let’s trot home then and get ’em.”

“It’s late, Jack. Anyway, why not cut the other fellows in on the fun?”

“The Explorers?”

“Sure, why keep a good thing like this to ourselves? War in particular would get a big boot out of digging up something—even if it proves to be only a dead cat!”

“Okay,” Jack agreed reluctantly, “but maybe whatever is buried won’t be here by tomorrow. We’re taking a chance.”

“Not a very big one. We know that bird comes at night ever so often. It strikes me, he doesn’t come to dig anything up, but only to make certain it’s still here.”

“Could be,” Jack agreed. “A treasure, maybe! Or loot from a robbery!”

“In that case we should notify the police.”

“Why don’t we find out what’s here first,” Jack proposed. “As you say, it may prove to be a buried cat or nothing of importance. We’d be the laughing stock of Belton in that case.”

“It won’t do any harm to wait a day,” Ken willingly agreed. “If anything is buried here, it’s been under ground for a long while.”

“Let’s get the fellows together tomorrow,” Jack proposed. “Say, I have an idea!”

“Spill it, boy.”

“Let’s invite ’em all to a hike, and advise ’em to bring spades. Then we’ll bring ’em here, and see what’s what.”

“Sounds all right to me,” Ken nodded, replacing dirt over the area disturbed. “I’ll leave it to you to get in touch with the fellows.”

Carefully, the two Explorers removed all evidence of their digging work. Before leaving the area, they covered the ground with leaves.

When they reached the cemetery road a few minutes later, the parked car was gone.

“I’m sure glad I jotted down that driver’s license number,” Jack remarked, as he and Ken walked on toward their homes. “Who knows? It may come in handy.”

The discovery of mysterious activity in the cemetery deeply interested both Scouts. Eager to learn if anything valuable had been buried by the fence, they lost no time in contacting the other members of the Rovers unit.

However, to make the hike more alluring, they refused to pass out even a hint of what might be in store. Jack not only telephoned Warwick, Willie and Bob, but also called Mr. Livingston. The Scout leader said regretfully that he would be tied up at his office and could not accompany them on the afternoon hike.

“We’re not going far anyhow,” Jack assured him. “If anything develops, I’ll get in touch with you right away.”

By pre-arrangement, the Rovers met at the entranceway to the cemetery the following afternoon at 3:30 p.m. Ken and Jack were to have the remainder of the day and the evening to themselves, for it was not a date on which they were assigned to the observation tower.

“Why did you ask us to meet you here?” War demanded, as he joined the waiting group. Following instruction, he had brought a spade. “Want me to dig a grave or something?”

“Your own!” Jack retorted. “Everyone here? Where’s Bob?”

“Coming up the street now,” Ken reported. “Look at the size of that knapsack he’s carrying! Filled with food, I’ll warrant.”

“He probably figures we’re going on a three-day hike,” Jack chuckled.

“How far are we going?” Willie demanded curiously. “A couple of miles?”

“Oh, about a thousand yards, more or less,” Ken returned carelessly.

“A thousand yards!” Willie fairly shrieked. “You call that a hike?”

“And why did you tell us to bring spades?” War asked. “What’s up, anyhow?”

“We’re going to do a little digging,” Jack said with a grin. “Come on, let’s get at it.”

He and Ken guided the other three through the cemetery to the barrier fence adjoining the automobile plant.

“X marks the spot,” Ken chuckled, indicating the area he and Jack had investigated the previous night. “Dig, slaves!”

“What’s this all about?” Willie probed. “Why all the mystery?”

“Yeah, and what are we expected to bring up? Oil?” demanded War. “Not a spadeful will I turn over until you tell us what we’re supposed to find.”

With a laugh, Jack related the manner in which he and Ken had followed the mysterious stranger on the previous night.

“Oh, so it’s that fellow in the old car!” War scoffed. “You’ve been talking about him for a month, Jack. So finally you make something of it!”

“Jack may have been smarter than the rest of us,” Ken said soberly. “After watching that bird last night, we’re convinced something has been buried here.”

“And you want to cut us in on the hard digging?” War joked.

“That’s the general idea,” Ken grinned. “Get busy! I’ll post myself down by the road to watch for that car driver. He’s not likely to show up here at this time of day, but it’s well to be alert.”

“If you see anyone coming, whistle twice,” Jack advised.

“Okay. If you hit anything interesting, give the same signal. I want to be on hand when the chest of gold is raised.”

“Gold,” War murmured with relish. “Pieces of eight! Say, wouldn’t it be swell if we would dig up money! We could make that trip to Colombia!”

“Oh, be your age!” Jack scoffed. “If money has been buried here, just remember it belongs to someone else. Not us. Here, give me that spade.”

“Not much,” War insisted, starting to dig. “This is my pleasure.”

For ten minutes, the Explorers clustered about as their chum dug steadily. The ground was relatively soft, encouraging them to believe that it had been disturbed not many weeks earlier.

“Careful!” Jack suddenly warned War. “You’ve struck something.”

He bent down to examine the metal object which protruded. It appeared to be the handle to a kettle or other heavy container. However, it was so deeply embedded, that even with Bob’s help, he could not raise it.

“Dig some more,” he advised War. “Be careful though.”

“Ken ought to be here,” Willie remarked, gazing toward the cemetery road. “Shall I call him?”

“Go ahead,” Jack nodded. “I think we’ve hit the treasure or whatever it is.”

Willie wet his fingers and blew two shrill blasts. Promptly, an answer was received. A few minutes later, Ken came running up.

“Find anything?” he demanded breathlessly.

By this time, War had removed more dirt. “An iron kettle,” he reported, resting for a moment on his spade. “Loaded to the brim with emeralds!”

“You’ve been thinking of emeralds ever since that one came for Mr. Livingston!” Ken laughed. “What is in the kettle?”

“We don’t know yet,” War admitted. “Being nice guys, we waited for you before we peeked.”

“Let’s not wait any longer,” Jack urged impatiently. “Remember, we have no guard now, and time’s slipping by pretty fast.”

“Yeah,” agreed Willie. “The owner of this little kettle may come back. So let’s lift ’er out.”

“First, we’ll see what’s inside,” Jack insisted.

The lid of the kettle had been wired down. With the aid of a Scout knife, he was able to untwist it. As the other Explorers huddled expectantly about the hole, he slowly and ceremoniously raised the cover.

A sudden silence ensued, to be followed by a howl of disappointment.

The kettle contained several pint milk bottles filled with a colorless liquid.

“Gold! Emeralds!” Willie warbled. “Yeah!”

“Nothing but water,” War added in disgust. “All that work for nothing! Jack, you and Ken certainly were taken for a ride this time!”

Ken had bent down again to sniff at the liquid in one of the bottles. Straightening, he gazed wide-eyed at his chums.

“This stuff isn’t water,” he told them tersely. “It’s too heavy. Furthermore, it has a peculiar odor.”

“What is it, if it isn’t water?” asked War. He started to pick up one of the containers. Ken seized his arm, shoving him back.

“Hey, what’s the idea?” War demanded indignantly.

“Don’t touch that stuff!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s nitro-glycerin! At least I think it is.”

“Nitro,” War echoed, looking scared.

“There’s enough to blow us all to Kingdom Come! We’re lucky we haven’t set it off with the careless way we’ve been digging.”

“Let’s get out of here fast!” War said, starting away.

“We can’t just go off and leave the stuff,” Jack protested. “It’s too dangerous.”

“There’s only one thing to do,” Ken advised. “Two of us will have to remain here on guard. The rest can go for the police.”

No one spoke for a moment. All the Explorers had a healthy respect for nitro-glycerin, a powerful explosive. Under certain conditions, even a slight jar would be sufficient to set it off. If the liquid still were active, there was quantity enough to destroy the nearby automobile plant.

“I’ll stay,” Jack quickly volunteered.

“I’m sticking too,” insisted Willie. “No, don’t argue. There’s no time to waste.”

“Right,” Jack grimly agreed. He turned to Ken.

“Take War and Bob and hot-foot it to the nearest telephone. Willie and I will stand guard, but we have no craving to meet the Angels. So tell those cops to step on it!”