Part 12 (2/2)

”Come back to camp with me right away, Alec,” Elmer told the other, who was still curiously examining the dead cat, especially interested in its savage looking claws and the cruel teeth that were exposed in the snarl that death had set upon its face. ”I want to take a look at those same little scratches you mention. They may appear harmless enough, but many a fine hunter has died from such simple things.”

Of course Alec was astounded. He stared hard at his hands, and shook his head in a skeptical way.

”I ha'e nae doot but that ye knaw best, Elmer,” he finally said, ”but would ye tell me the noo how such a wee bit o' scratches could mean so much?”

”Blood poisoning is apt to set in,” explained the other, readily enough, as he locked arms with the Scotch lad and hurried him off toward the camp. ”You see, carnivorous animals that live upon the flesh of their prey are apt to have their claws contaminated. Even a slight abrasion caused by those claws is impregnated with just so much danger. Nothing might come of it; but scouts believe in taking as little chances as possible. I've got a phial of permanganate of potash along for just such purposes, and we'll daub some of it on. You'll resemble a wild Indian with the splotches, for it stains a deep purple, but safety first before looks.”

Indeed, Alec did look rather odd after his several slight injuries had been duly attended to, for Elmer did not spare the ”painting.”

”I wish me mither could see me the noo,” chuckled the Scotch boy, after he had surveyed his mottled appearance in a tiny hand mirror one of them had been thoughtful enough to fetch along. ”Ye ken, she's often tauld me aboot the Highland chiefs in their war-paint in the gude auld days of lang syne. I warran ye she'd think her son and heir had copied after the McGregor, Rob Roy, ye remimber, our outlaw ancestor.”

Lil Artha was to fetch along the defunct wildcat, for it was designed to save the skin, and present it, when properly tanned, to Alec, who could use it in his den at home for a small mat. Every time he looked down at it he must be forcibly reminded of his stirring adventure, and it would serve to encourage him in his endeavor to become a first-cla.s.s scout.

It was perhaps half an hour afterwards that Elmer heard voices, and looking toward the spot where Lil Artha had been working with the pelt of the bobcat, he was both surprised and thrilled to discover that the long-legged scout was talking with a small party in whom Elmer immediately recognized Conrad Shock!

CHAPTER XIII

A CALL FOR HELP

”WHAT'S this mean?” Elmer heard George saying, which proved that the other had also discovered Conrad's presence. ”I reckon that must be your Boy Wonder with the fiddle and the bow, Elmer. Now, whatever brought him away over here to visit us, do you think? Perhaps his folks don't know that scouts are at home in the woods, no matter what sort of gay storm crops up. Mebbe now they were afraid some of us had suffered. Well, it was nice of them to send a messenger, anyhow.”

But Elmer was disposed to view the matter differently. He could see that there was a look of considerable apprehension visible on the peaked face of Conrad. Elmer scented some kind of trouble at once. The boy had sought them out, possibly sent with a message by his mother.

Lil Artha had entirely suspended operations with the pelt which he had been engaged in fastening to a crude but effective stretching board, fas.h.i.+oned after the directions he had received from the old scientist and trapper some of the boys had visited a while before.[B]

Lil Artha loved good music, in which he differed from George. Hence he had felt considerable interest in all Elmer told them about Conrad being the direct descendant of the famous violinist, Ovid Anderson, of whom he had often heard. He was in truth quite eager himself to hear the child play, though ready to take Elmer's word for it that Conrad was the possessor of wonderful genius.

As Elmer hastened toward the spot Lil Artha looked around and discovered him.

”Hi! here's your young friend come to hunt you up, Elmer!” he called out. ”He is just telling me that his mother sent him. I hope now there's nothing gone wrong over at their place. If we can do anything, of course we'd be only too willing.”

The boy shot him a look of grat.i.tude at hearing Lil Artha say this. Then he turned eagerly toward Elmer.

”Mother sent me over to see you,” he went on to say in a voice that quivered a little despite his manly effort to control his feelings.

”I hope she isn't sick, Conrad?” ventured the scout-master, anxiously.

”No, it's father,” the boy said after he had gulped several times. ”You see, he hasn't come home; and we're so afraid something dreadful has happened to him.”

Elmer looked doubly concerned.

”Do you mean he was away from home during that awful storm last night?”

he went on to ask.

The other nodded his head, and then managed to explain further. Even the proximity of Elmer seemed to have already done him much good; for there was a certain atmosphere connected with the resolute scout-leader that inspired the utmost confidence.

”He started to go to the lake that is farthest away, for there are two small ones, you may not know,” Conrad explained. ”He had some set lines there that needed attention, and we wanted the fish for eating, too. But father backed out once, for he said he had wrenched his leg and felt a little lame. But in the end he decided to start, though mother didn't just like him to go.”

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