Part 10 (1/2)

Turning once more, he started to retrace his steps, intending to pa.s.s around the house and out at the gate that lay some distance away. A mile was not so very far to go, even for a tired boy. And as he had said, that cold bath had worked wonders for his muscles.

Elmer had gone possibly one half of the distance to the gate, when he believed he detected something moving ahead of him. The first thought that flashed across his mind was that it must be Bruno, who was in the act of returning home after a little run about the country.

He hoped the big dog would recognize him as a friend before attempting to jump at him; for Elmer knew that Siberian wolf hounds are not the easiest animals in the world to handle when met in the dark.

So the boy prepared to speak, in the hope that Bruno would recognize his voice. Better after all to arouse the house, than have the dog attack him under the impression that he was a thief.

Again he detected that movement as he stood perfectly still alongside the bush. This time, however, it struck him that it did not seem so much like a dog; and while he was trying to figure this out, another sound came faintly to his ears. Whispers! That meant human beings, and at least two, or they would not be exchanging remarks!

Could it be any of the servants belonging to the house? Their actions would not warrant such an idea, for Elmer could now see that the two dusky figures were creeping along, bending low, and behaving in the most suspicious manner possible.

A sudden thought struck him so forcibly that it sent a s.h.i.+ver through his whole body. What was that the colonel had said over the wire about the two men whom he had had arrested on a charge of stealing his prize fruit, getting away from the poorly guarded lock up in town?

Could it be possible that these shadowy figures were those same rascals; and had they come to the home of Colonel Hitchins, determined after their lawless way, to get even with him for having caused them to suffer a short time in the jail?

Elmer could feel his heart beating like mad as he watched them drawing nearer and nearer.

CHAPTER IX.

FAITHFUL TO HIS FRIEND.

NOW they had stopped again, and seemed to be conferring in whispers.

If Elmer had had the least doubt before concerning their evil intentions, it was no longer in evidence. Honest men do not creep around the house of a rich man at such an hour of the night, and put their heads close together.

He flattened himself out on the ground, having dropped like a stone, though without the least noise.

”How lucky that I happened to come along this way!” was the thought that seemed uppermost in the mind of the scout as he crouched there, waiting.

”If my wheel had stayed all right I would have been far away right now, and never known a thing about this. And it was that tool house that made me go around to the back.”

He even grew bolder, and began to speculate as to how he might creep closer to the pair. If he could only overhear what they were saying, it might help more than a little. And, somehow, his desire to be of some a.s.sistance to his good friend the colonel, urged him to make the attempt.

To an ordinary lad it might have seemed an impossible task, for in his clumsiness he must certainly have made some sort of sounds calculated to arouse the suspicions of the men.

Elmer's experiences in the Canadian Northwest had proven of great value to him ever since he joined the Boy Scouts. And when he started to creep forward, it was with some of the stealth of the cat gliding toward a coveted dinner in the shape of a feeding sparrow.

As he covered several yards of territory, Elmer noticed that he quickly began to catch the sound of conversation. The men were talking low, but one of them had a harsh voice, and while this had come to Elmer at first as an indistinct murmur, presently he began to catch distinct words.

Having attained a place behind another bush, where he could have tossed a pebble and touched the two fellows, had he been of a mind, he strained his ears to catch the tenor of their earnest talk.

The man with the husky voice seemed to be scolding his companion, and accusing him of being either timid or over-particular.

”But ye was jest as dead set on doin' it as I was, Con Stebbins; an' now that we got the chanct ye show signs o' the white feather. Brace up, an'

lets git busy!” he was growling.

”Aw! what's eatin' ye, Phil?” the other remarked, with a whine. ”I'd like tuh do the job jest as much as yerself; but what if we got ketched?

It'd mean a long time in the pen, Phil.”