Читать книгу Skinny McCord - Percy Keese Fitzhugh - Страница 5

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It was a desperate business, but he had succeeded—so far. He was not going to jeopardize his success now by an ill-considered move. So he resolved to rest on the bench till the last distant flicker disappeared and he could feel certain that every one in camp had retired. Then he would follow the path down through the woods.

He removed his hat and took an empty cigarette box from inside the crown. There were no cigarettes left in it, but a certain devilish instinct of caution had prompted him to save the little pasteboard folder with removable matches that had accompanied his forbidden purchase. Then he took off a shoe and withdrew from it a damp and soiled slip of paper containing a memorandum which he read by the light of a match. Martha Norris Memorial Cabins. Up path from fire turn left—second cabin. He knew the words by heart, but scanned them finally before crumpling the paper and throwing it away.

As he dropped it under the bench he saw a little square of white lying on the ground and picking it up found it to be an unopened letter. It was close to one of the legs of the bench and almost at the foot of the post supporting the mail box. He struck another match and read the typewritten address on the envelope: Temple Camp, Black Lake, Greene Co., New York. In the corner was an imprint: Bently’s Family Hotel, Wave Crest City, Florida.

He now made a discovery which was destined to give a turn to his fortunes and start an altogether singular series of adventures. He found that the heavy dew had dampened the envelope and melted the glue of the flap so that the envelope lay limp and open in his hand. He could not forbear to examine a missive which lay thus exposed. The thought occurred to him that the letter could not have lain long on the ground without being discovered by those who frequented the spot. It had probably been brought by the rural carrier that very afternoon and dropped by the messenger who had emptied the box to take its contents down to camp. In the dim light of his few remaining matches, he read the letter.

Wave Crest City, Fla.,

June 27th, 1927.

Board of Councilors,

Temple Camp,

Black Lake, N. Y.

Gentlemen:

This is to notify you that my son, Danville Bently, who was to have spent the month of July at your camp will not be able to begin his vacation with you until August second. He is to accompany his mother and myself to Europe.

We are closing our place here for the summer season to travel abroad and I have taken the liberty of assuring our boy that the reservation made for him for July (for which check was sent to cover) may be shifted to August without prejudice to your summer arrangements.

He is looking forward with high anticipations to his promised month at your famous camp and we have arranged for him to return with his older brother on a steamer which will arrive in New York on August first, so that his trip with us may not interfere with his scouting activities.

Will you kindly wire me upon receipt of this whether the check forwarded in recent communication may be applied to accommodation for August instead of July? If that is satisfactory he will report on August second.

I sincerely hope that this will be agreeable to you as he would suffer a very keen disappointment if compelled to forego this first season at a scout camp.

Very truly yours,

Roswell T. Bently.

As he followed the path down into the woods he had no other thought in regard to this letter than to see that it was delivered into the proper hands. He knew well enough how he was to accomplish this without making his presence known to these strangers. The faintest glow of the distant fire still burned and by this tiny beacon he saw that to reach the site of the camp-fire he must leave the beaten path. He now began to pass isolated cabins, the scattered advance guard of the growing camp. They were all in darkness, but in one he heard laughter and singing. Now he passed a row of tents; there was a dim light in one of them and a figure silhouetted on the canvas. As he passed the light went out. He moved silently, cautiously pausing now and again. There was no sign of life.

Presently he was shockingly made aware of the need of stealth. Pausing before a cabin in front of which was planted a staff with a white pennant he saw a figure appear suddenly in the doorway.

“No, you don’t,” said the apparition.

“Did he get away with it?” some one within asked.

“Not so you’d notice it,” said the figure in the doorway.

“What’s the idea?” the newcomer asked.

“The idea is you didn’t get away with it,” laughed the boy in the doorway. “Just keep away from that pennant.” And he disappeared within.

Here was a strange business. They evidently slept with one ear open at Temple Camp. But why should they think he intended to take something? Why should they suspect him? Was there anything about him that enabled strangers to discern his secret? At all events he must be careful in this uncanny place.