CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE MYSTERY SOLVED—CONCLUSION.

The sheriff was satisfied to find that he had the much sought thief in his hands, and that the stolen property of the rich planter turned up after a search of the interior of the shack; though some of the younger elements in his posse felt a bit disappointed because they had had such a small part to play in the affair, the honors of which seemed to go to Thad and the swamp ranger.

As for the scouts, they were fairly wild with delight over the successful outcome of their trip into Dixie. Thad declared that they would make for New Orleans as soon as possible, where he expected to interview the sisters at the convent school at which Pauline had been kept for years.

Jasper, after he had recovered in a measure from his bitter disappointment, began to show a yellow streak. Perhaps he cherished a faint hope that if he tried to make amends Thad might interest himself in seeking to have his punishment lightened; as though anything the boy could do would make a difference with the stern justice of the law he had defied so long.

He admitted before them all that the girl was the Brewster baby, and that he had been guilty of stealing her, just to get even with those whom he hated because he had wronged them, and had been found out. Thad was wise enough to get him to write out a confession, and have the sheriff and several others witness the same. He believed that this would be enough to prove that Pauline was his long lost sister. But all the same Thad did go to New Orleans with his chums later on, and made sure to get the little garments which the sisters had kept all these years, and which they affirmed had been upon the child when she was first brought to them by the man who called himself her father, and who paid well to have her taken care of.

They left the strange island in the heart of the quaking bog in the same way they had reached it. And Jasper thus learned that after all he had not been the only one who knew about that hidden ridge, by following which the treacherous bed of slime could be safely crossed.

When the scouts once more arrived at the spot where their boats had been left they concluded to spend the night in camp. Alligator Smith would not leave them; but the sheriff was eager to get back with his prisoner and the loot, so that he might claim the rich reward that had been offered for the capture of the man, and the safe return of the stolen property.

“Our last night in old Alligator Swamp, boys,” said Allan, as the afternoon began to wear along, and found them very comfortable, with the tents erected, and a cheery fire blazing near by, “and let’s make it a memorable one by every means in our power.”

“If we’re meaning to have a real pleasant evening,” spoke up Davy Jones, with a determined look upon his face; “then I move that the first thing we do is to make Bumpus here sink his old suit in the swamp, and put on his nice clean one.”

“Second the motion; and all in favor say aye!” shouted Giraffe, excitedly.

A loud shout attested that the desire was unanimous. Even Thad nodded his head.

“We’ve sure been a patient crowd, Bumpus, as you’ll admit,” he said; “and now that you’ve gone and got that nasty mud plastered all over you, we’ve reached the end of the rope. Here, take that jacket off, and hand it to me. I’ve got an idea the truth is about to come out. Oh! no wonder some of the boys have been complaining about this. See here, Bumpus, your cold is better, isn’t it? You can begin to sniff around some again, can’t you? Well, just take a whiff of this coat, and tell me what you think!”

Bumpus proceeded to do so, while the rest of the boys awaited the result. Sure enough, the round, jolly face of the fat scout immediately screwed itself up as if he were not favorably impressed.

“Put your hand in the inside pocket, Bumpus,” continued Thad, severely, “because I think you’ll find a little package done up in paper there, and which you’ve been wondering about this long while.”

A shout went up from the other boys when Bumpus did fetch out a small but very _powerful_ packet, tied with the red cord used by druggists in their business.

“Why!” ejaculated the astounded Bumpus, staring hard at the contents of his hand; “would you believe it, that’s the very package I’ve been worrying my head off about, and never able to say whether I gave it to my ma, or left it at the house of some fellow I visited on the way home!”

“Yes,” Thad went on to say, “you put it in the pocket of your old jacket; and when you got home just rolled that up, and stowed it in your knapsack, because we were off the very next day. And when you put that suit on down here, you had such a bad cold in the head you never guessed a thing about it. Bumpus, do you know what that awful stuff is? Why, it’s just asafetida, one of the rankest drugs going. Most people have to keep it out in the barn, because it’s pretty nearly as bad as a skunk to have around. Perhaps your mother wanted to use it for a cold. I think that’s what they buy it for; and according to my mind it would scare any respectable cold off in one inning. Now, you just take this coat, and sink it as deep as you can in the swamp; yes, get in your tent and change to your new suit. We’ve stood about all we can of this thing.”

Bumpus looked around at his seven chums, and grinned.

“Well, to think that I’d find that lost package after all; and had it along with me all the time, but didn’t know it,” he went on to say, as though this struck him as the most remarkable part of the whole affair.

“But we knew it, all the same,” avowed Davy; “and after you’ve loaded that suit with a stone, and sunk five feet deep, perhaps we’ll accept you again as a member in good standing. But you sure are the most stubborn fellow that ever lived.”

“Anyway, my mind’s relieved of a load,” affirmed Bumpus, composedly; “because I know now what I did with that lost package.”

He soon made the change, and then some of the boys went with him to see that he buried the strong smelling garments where they would never come back again; which ceremony was conducted with all manner of laughter and boyish jokes.

True to his promise Step Hen did manage to secure that musket which the cunning Jasper had used in constructing his man-trap; and spent an hour extracting the load from the rusty barrel. He confessed himself very much disappointed, however, because, after all, it proved to contain only a single bullet instead of the handful of missiles that he had prophesied would be found packed away there. But he took the old weapon away with him, and declared he would hang it from the wall in his den at home, to remind him of other days.

In New Orleans Thad easily procured all the further evidence needed to prove that the girl whom he had found with Jasper was really his own true little sister Pauline; and when the scouts once more reached Cranford there was quite a furore in the town over the successful outcome of the boys’ trip South.

Thad had even asked the sheriff about the escaped black convicts said to be hiding in Alligator Swamp, and whom he expected to round up with his posse after placing Jasper in a place of security; and when Giraffe and the rest heard that there was really a fellow who was minus the third finger of his left hand, they gave the patrol leader great credit for reading the signs of the trail aright.

Having accomplished the one important mission that had taken them down into Dixie, and successfully navigated the numerous perilous channels upon which their boats had embarked, it should not be necessary for us to accompany the Silver Fox Patrol any further in these pages; but we shall surely hope and expect to meet with Thad Brewster and his chums again at some time in the near future; for such wide-awake and enterprising scouts must of necessity constantly encounter new and interesting adventures which would be worth while telling. Until that time arrives, then, we will ring down the curtain, and say good-bye.

THE END.

SAVE THE WRAPPER!

If you have enjoyed reading about the adventures of the new friends you have made in this book and would like to read more clean, wholesome stories of their entertaining experiences, turn to the book jacket—on the inside of it, a comprehensive list of Burt’s fine series of carefully selected books for young people has been placed for your convenience.

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For sale by all booksellers, or sent on receipt of price by the Publishers A. L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 E. 23rd St., NEW YORK

Transcriber’s Notes

--Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public domain in the country of publication.

--Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and dialect unchanged.

--In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.)

--Added a Table of Contents.

--Fixed the caption of the frontispiece illustration:

When this book and “The Boy Scouts on Sturgeon Island” were printed, the captions of their frontispiece illustrations were swapped. This eText restores the correct caption from that other book. The illustrations themselves (and the book name portion of the caption) were printed correctly. For reference, the other book’s caption is:

“There’s the Island!” yelled Giraffe, pointing to the right. “But we’re going past it!” shrieked Bumpus. Page 136.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Boy Scouts Down in Dixie, by Herbert Carter