Читать книгу The Boy Scouts Under Fire in Mexico - Goldfrap John Henry - Страница 5

CHAPTER V.
ON THE TRAIL

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In this manner they left the dusty road behind them, and entered among the bushes and growth of scrubby trees that bordered it.

The three Eagles who came just after the stalwart police officers kept in a bunch; not that any of them felt afraid in the least; but as they were unarmed, save for the various clubs they had managed to pick up on the way, they seemed to think there might be safety in numbers.

Besides, if at any time they felt in a communicative mood, it was possible to put their heads together and pass whispers along.

Rob, in the lead, was bending over and bringing that little hand torch into play in great style. Nothing could have been finer for the purpose, he quickly concluded, and made up his mind on the spot that he would own such a handy article at the very first opportunity.

The steady white glow allowed him to see the ground so plainly that he could readily distinguish every little mark made by the feet of the fleeing men. On the whole, Rob would have called that job something of a snap; for neither of the fugitives seemed to have once thought of such a thing as "blinding their trail"; such as clever scouts generally do when playing "fox and geese," or some game of that sort.

In fact, the taller fellow, the one who limped so badly, had actually dragged his injured leg after him; and in this way he managed to leave a broad track that Rob believed even a tender-foot might follow with ease.

Still there were places where the ground was hard, being made for the most part of rock; and here the tracker was compelled to be more careful in order that he might not be thrown off the trail by accident and have all sorts of trouble finding it again.

"Say, keep your eye on Rob, fellers," Tubby whispered, when he was so wound up that he just could not keep quiet any longer. "Isn't he showing the Chief a few wrinkles about following a set of tracks, though?"

"Not so loud, Tubby," cautioned Merritt, who, as the second in command of the Eagle Patrol, had a certain amount of authority invested in him that the rest of the scouts always recognized, particularly when Rob was not on duty or absent.

"But he is trailing along like a regular old fox, isn't he?" persisted Tubby, who was hard to repress when he felt the spirit move within him.

"Course he is," muttered Andy; "and this isn't the first time Rob has made grown men sit up and take notice. But there, he's hit a snarl of some kind!"

"Well, you take my word for it, Rob will unravel it in double-quick order!" the stout boy assured him.

"Silence!" hissed Merritt; and this time he apparently "squelched" Tubby, for the latter had nothing more to say just then; but as he had freed his mind, that was a matter of small consequence.

Rob was skirmishing around as though he might have lost the trail owing to the hardness of the ground. He had held up a hand in order to warn the three officers not to stumble over him, and then with his torch held low, proceeded to examine his surroundings.

They saw him rise up and flash his light to the right, then to the left, and finally straight ahead. Apparently he was making up his mind from the conformation of things which way the two fleeing men might have chosen as they pushed forward in the semi-darkness. In other words, Rob was applying an old principle, trying to "put himself in their place" so that he could decide what their natural action under the circumstances would have been.

He seemed to settle quickly which way had looked the most promising to the anxious eyes of two sorely pressed fellows, one of whom could hardly drag himself along, for he immediately turned toward the left, and again flashed his torch on the ground.

Almost immediately afterward the three scouts in the rear caught a queer little sound, not unlike the faint squawk of an eaglet in its nest at feeding time.

"There, did you hear that, fellers?" demanded Tubby excitedly, though he did manage to keep his voice whittled down to a hoarse whisper.

"It was Rob giving us the sign of the Eagles that told he had found what he was looking for; sure it was!" observed Andy.

"That's all right, but you boys let up on your talking. Understand?" was the warning given by the corporal.

Apparently the boy in the lead must have given the three officers some sort of signal with his disengaged hand, for as he moved off they started after him, doubtless with renewed confidence in his ability to lead them. If either of those men who accompanied the Chief on this mission had been inclined to scoff at the usefulness of the education of a Boy Scout, he must have had an object lesson then and there that he would not soon forget.

Later on every one of them candidly admitted that without the aid of Rob they would never have been able to follow the trail of the fleeing rascals for five rods, not having been taught how to read signs, as are all scouts who deserve the name.

After that Rob did not seem to run up against any more snags, for he kept moving steadily along, now turning to one side, and then to the other, just as the parties he tracked had chanced to move in order to avoid some fallen tree, a stump, or a thick clump of thorny bushes that barred their path.

It was splendid work, and the trio of boys who kept tabs on what their patrol leader was doing, felt a genuine thrill of admiration for Rob's skill. Once again were the Eagles proving their worth in an emergency; and after this Hampton folks would have still more reason to feel proud of the patrol and the troop.

"Listen!" said Andy suddenly, "what is that I hear?"

His two companions halted for a brief period of time, because apparently they had not as yet chanced to catch the sound that disturbed Andy.

"Seems like running water to me," ventured Tubby, as if in more or less doubt.

"It is running water," affirmed Merritt quickly; "a little stream of some kind, I guess. Seems to me I remember one that trails through this patch of scrub oak timber."

"Well, we're heading straight for it," remarked Andy; "and like as not the two men wanted to get a drink right bad. They ran so hard they felt dry enough to drain a spring-hole at one turn."

"Sh! You see Rob's heading that way; let's move on!" Merritt told them.

It turned out just as they figured. The run-aways had indeed gone straight for the little streamlet that gurgled through the underbrush; and Rob showed by means of his light just where they had both knelt down alongside the creek to drink.

Just as the other three scouts came up, they heard Rob give a little exclamation that seemed to have in it something like pity.

"What have you found now, son?" asked the big Chief, understanding from the manner in which the clever scout had given this cry that he must have made a new discovery.

"I reckon that poor wretch got a worse broken leg than any one has thought up to now, Chief," Rob remarked with a long breath, as he riveted the light of his little torch upon one certain spot of ground.

"How d'ye make that out, Rob?" asked Tubby before any one else could speak; for slow in his movements though the fat youth might often seem no one was more ready to interject a word than Tubby.

"Here is where both of them knelt down so they could bend forward and drink," replied the obliging patrol leader, always ready to post his comrades on these little points that would add to their scout education.

"Yep, we can see the marks easy," Andy assured the other.

"Here is where the shorter one got down, because you can see the distance between the marks of his knees and the toes of his shoes doesn't measure nearly as much as this other does. And looking closer you'll see that the tall man wasn't able to double up his left leg as he wanted to."

"That was the one they said he had hurt," remarked the Chief, undoubtedly deeply interested in all that the boy was saying.

"Now, if you look here at the place where his left foot dug into the soil when he lay down to drink, you'll find a stain that tells a story of its own!" Rob went on to say, as he held the torch still lower, so that all could see.

"Jiminy crickets!" exclaimed Tubby, in an awed tone. "Why, it's a blood mark, fellers; sure it is!"

"Yes," added the Chief, "that's right, son. He hurt his leg worse than anybody could have known about. That Con has got plenty of nerve to keep going all this time with such a bad wound! He certainly wanted to escape a term at the pen, all right."

"I think he couldn't drag himself much further, Chief; and we'll be apt to run across him soon, even if the other man gets away," Rob observed; and so much confidence had the big officer learned to put in what the patrol leader of the Eagles said, that he nodded his head and simply remarked:

"That's good news, Rob; let's get a move on again, and close in on our birds!"

"Are they armed, do you know, Chief?" asked Merritt; for he had been wondering what sort of reception they would receive when they finally closed in on the fugitives, who were reckoned desperate men.

"Not so far as is known," replied the other. "I was particular to ask that, for I knew I'd have to shape my plans accordingly. It seems that they raided an old scare-crow that had been left in a field, and managed to change clothes with the dummy after a fashion, for they wanted to pose as tramps, you see. But armed or not, we are ready to settle accounts with the rascals. We're close at your heels, Rob; make all the time you want."

Rob was not having any difficulty whatever in following the trail after the two fugitives had left the little streamlet. He seemed to be as keen on the scent as a rabbit hound, only he went about his work noiselessly, and not with the idea of giving tongue, such as a beagle usually shows.

"We're getting on a warm track, Chief," the boy with the torch suddenly remarked, "because just then I saw a little twig right itself under my very eyes, showing it must have been stepped on only a few minutes before. Hello! here's only one set of tracks! The man with the broken leg has drawn out!"

"But where could he have gone?" asked Tubby. "He didn't have wings, did he? And no aeroplane could dodge down in all this brush to carry him off. If he isn't on the ground, where d'ye reckon he can be, Rob?"

For answer the patrol leader gave one good look at the place where the trail of the man who dragged his left leg after him seemed to stop.

Then he quickly focused the white glow of his electric torch up into the tree directly over-head.

"Oh! looky there, would you, in the fork of the tree!" exclaimed Tubby, always bent on expressing his opinion.

And as the others cast their eyes upward, they saw the huddled figure of a man where Tubby had indicated. Rob had undoubtedly run one of the fugitives down; and hearing them coming through the brush, he must have climbed the tree as a last resort, evidently hoping they might pass him by.

But he had not taken into consideration the fact that a scout was leading the pursuing party, and that the sudden ending of his tracks was bound to cause the trailer to survey the vicinity in the expectation of locating his game.

The Boy Scouts Under Fire in Mexico

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