The Boy Patrol Around the Council Fire. Ellis Edward Sylvester

that when Mike and the doctor peered into the pellucid depths, it was not at the spot where the tramps had descried something which unnerved them. Moreover, each of the pursuers knew such was the case, but did not try to correct it nor did either drop a hint of his knowledge until some time afterward.

      It may be added that had the doctor and his young friend paddled a little farther in the proper direction they would have solved the mystery and been overcome probably by the same panic that had driven the tramps overboard.

      “Well,” said the physician, “there is nothing to be gained by staying here. Let’s go to my home, have supper and spend the evening. I know my wife will be glad to have you, and I suspect that Stubby feels a little that way herself.”

      “I hope so,” replied Mike feelingly; “I may as well confess that my main purpose in going thither is to meet Sunbeam, as the callers used to say regarding mesilf whin they purtended they wanted to see dad and mither.”

      Paddling at a leisurely rate, they soon drew the two canoes up the bank and stepped out. Mike paused and looked back.

      “Can there be any fear of thim spalpeens poking round here while we’re not in sight?”

      “It seems unlikely; since they tried that sort of thing they have been scared so fearfully that I think they will avoid us.”

      “Docther, what could it have been that made them jump out of their boat and swim and dive like two crazy persons?”

      “I should give a good deal to be able to answer that question, but I have no more idea than you. Let us try to content ourselves with the belief that like the cause of Uncle Elk’s resentment toward me, it will be made clear sooner or later.”

      Before leaving the landing, as it may be called, they scanned the surface of the lake. The doctor generally carried his binoculars and he traced the margin clear around from their right back again to their left. There stood the bungalow with the flag idly drooping from the staff and several of the Scouts were seen lounging at the front. In no other direction was a sign of life discerned.

      “I cannot discover the other canoe,” remarked Dr. Spellman, passing the glass to Mike at his side. “If the boys had returned, the boat would be in sight by the bungalow; whoever used it, they are still absent.”

      “They have landed and gone into the woods to look after birds or to trace out other kinds of trees. They will be back before the set of sun.”

      “No doubt, unless,” added the doctor half in earnest, “they should receive the same shock that struck Biggs and Hutt.”

      “In that evint, they will be home still earlier.”

      “Come on; I’m beginning to feel hungry.”

      “And I’m wid ye there.”

      CHAPTER IV – Curious Sights And Doings

      One of the incidents which made that night memorable in the life of Mike Murphy was that it brought him a compliment, the equal of which he had never received before, nor in the years to come can any similar words so touch his heart.

      Ruth Spellman, or “Sunbeam” as she was coming to be called, was so interested in his fairy stories that when the time arrived for her to go to bed she was restless and the mother feared it was something in the nature of a fever that disturbed her. The father, however, assured his wife that it was due to mental excitement and would soon pass away. When Ruth had said her prayers, kissed each good night and lain down on her cot, with the thin blanket spread over her, she still fidgeted. From the next room the three heard her tossing as children will do when sleep fails to soothe them.

      Suddenly they heard her pleading voice:

      “Cousin Mike, won’t you please sing to me?”

      “I’ll do my bist,” he replied with a laugh, as he walked back and sat on a camp stool beside her couch, where only a small portion of the light from the front apartment reached them. He began the baby song with which his mother had often lulled him to slumber in infancy. Its exquisite sweetness was beyond description, the parents sat motionless and listening as much enthralled as the little one for whose benefit it was sung. They were almost holding their breath when Sunbeam murmured during one of the slight pauses:

      “I think one of the angels you told me about, mamma, is singing.”

      “I don’t wonder,” whispered the father; “I never heard anything like it.”

      Five minutes later the child had drifted away into dreamland and Mike came forward and joined the two on the outside. They sat silent for a few minutes. Neither referred to the wonderful treat they had enjoyed, for it would have grated when compared with the simple words of Sunbeam. Nor did Mike speak of it, but, as has been said, his heart had been touched as never before.

      It was comparatively early in the evening when he bade his friends good-by, having declined their invitation to stay over night, and walked down to the water, accompanied by the doctor.

      “When you next see Uncle Elk, assure him that his wishes shall be respected by me; I shall not call at the bungalow in the evening unless you signal for me, nor do I intend to go near his home.”

      Mike promised to carry out the doctor’s wishes and turned the prow of the boat south, which was the most direct course home. He glanced back, and observing that his friend had gone up the path, made a change of direction, his action showing that he did not wish the doctor to notice it.

      The truth was that Mike was obsessed with what he had witnessed that afternoon. There must be an explanation of the fright of the two tramps, but he could not frame any theory that would stand for a moment.

      “And I’ll niver be able to do it,” he muttered, “till I larn a good deal more than I know now, which isn’t anything at all, as Ted Ryan replied whin his taycher asked him what he knowed about his lesson.”

      Now, as that which terrified Biggs and Hutt seemed to have appeared in the lake near them, it would seem that there was the spot to look for the solution of the mystery, and yet it was impossible to hit upon the precise place. He and the doctor had come pretty near it some hours before, without any result.

      “We agraad that what the spalpeens saw was in the water, but that couldn’t be. It must have been on the land and that’s where I’ll hunt for the same.”

      There were just as strong objections to this supposition, the chief of which was that the vagrants when they went overboard swam with frantic energy toward the shore; in other words, they made for the point where the terror was awaiting them. Moreover, their actions in diving repeatedly and glancing back proved that what they dreaded was behind them.

      It was useless to theorize, for the more Mike tried it, the more puzzled he became. He decided to paddle slowly and silently to the point where the tramps had landed and make his investigations there. Using his eyes and ears to the utmost, he ought to learn something, provided always there was something to learn. He certainly displayed “nerve,” but no more than he had done on other occasions.

      It has been shown that the youth was only an amateur in handing a canoe, but by slowly and carefully moving the paddle, he caused scarcely a ripple and was sure no one could detect him through the sense of hearing. There was no moon, but the sky was clear and studded with stars whose brilliancy enabled him dimly to see objects at a distance of a hundred yards or so. From the first, he kept so close inshore that the undergrowth and wood were in sight and served him as a guide. Even an expert in the circumstances would not have been able to decide precisely where Biggs and Hutt left the water, but Mike was sure he was not far from the spot when he ceased plying his paddle.

      He decided not to land, at least not for the present, but to halt where the bow of the canoe rested directly under the dipping branches. Thus, should it become necessary, he could slip out of sight under the leafy screen, or could retreat if it should prove advisable to do so.

      An overhanging bough rested on the prow of the craft and held it motionless, a very slight force serving as an anchor in the case of so delicately poised a craft. First, with his heart beating a little faster than usual, he peered round in the gloom that shut him