CHAPTER V.

SIGNS OF BROODING TROUBLE.

Thanks to the fact that all of them heard the warning uttered by Ralph, no one was so incautious as to suddenly turn and stare toward the bushes mentioned by the chum who had given the alarm.

“Keep on talking as if nothing had happened,” advised Hugh. “By degrees all of us can take a peep.”

Perhaps even then he was half inclined to believe Ralph must have made a mistake and only imagined he saw a face. A minute later and the scout master realized that undoubtedly there was a man concealed back of the bushes, for his face was raised in plain view, only to again vanish back of the covert.

“Looked like one of those foreigners for a fact, Hugh,” muttered Arthur Cameron.

“You mean the three who were chased by the bull, don’t you?” asked the other.

“Just what I do,” replied Arthur, positively.

“It’s a dark face, and might belong to an Italian or a Hungarian, such as they say most of those strikers are,” continued Hugh.

“He may have been looking for a chance to pick up something worth eating.”

“They say grub is getting short in their camp,” suggested Alec Sands.

“And seeing the light of our fire, he came this way to spy on us,” added Billy Worth.

“Well, he looked surprised, and half scared, to me,” observed Bud Morgan. “It’s easy to understand why. You know, over in their country, the only authority they recognize is that of uniforms. Police officers or army men they bend the knee to. So, seeing a dozen stout chaps all in khaki uniforms seated here, I guess that dago is laboring under the idea that in some way we’re connected with the U. S. Army.”

Hugh looked uneasy.

“I hope he isn’t going to carry that impression back with him to his mates, then,” he argued, “because they would think the soldiers were hiding up here, waiting to shoot them down if any rioting began. And we might have a hundred wild strikers breaking in on the quiet of our little camp when we least expect visitors.”

“They’re an awful unreasonable lot, too,” added Harold Tremaine. “You can’t make ’em understand what you mean: and they’ve got ugly, hot tempers in the bargain.”

“There, Hugh, he’s crawling off now!” said Ralph.

“A good riddance of bad rubbish!” declared Arthur Cameron. “The less we have to do with these queer foreigners, the better for us all.”

When he said that Arthur little suspected what strange happenings there were destined to come their way ere long, and also what surprises they would be thrown in contact with, even to a close association with the very foreigners he was, in his ignorance, speaking of so bitterly.

“I hope he’s gone for good, that’s all!” was what Hugh said.

When they got to talking it all over a little later, it seemed to be the consensus of opinion that they should do something to guard the camp. While there might not be the slightest chance of any peril descending upon them as they slept, at the same time the motto of all scouts is “Be Prepared,” and Hugh as well as some of the others did not believe it was sensible to wait until “the horse was stolen before locking the stable door.”

All sorts of familiar maxims were brought out and paraded in order to bolster up this idea, and finally Hugh paired his followers off. Two of them were assigned to keep watch the first hour, with instructions to arouse Hugh at the least suspicious discovery.

In turn these sentries were to arouse the next pair, and so, in regular routine, all the inmates of the camp without exception would do their share of work between that time and the coming of welcome dawn.

Nor was that all. Since they had no firearms in camp, Hugh made them arm themselves with staves or cudgels, so that in case of necessity they might have some means of defense should the camp be invaded.

Some of the more timid doubtless looked around at the black woods and may have peopled those shadows with the lurking figures of many excitable strikers. These might be eager to see for themselves the “soldiers” that one of their number reported as having gone into camp not more than two miles from the threatened cement works upon which the strike had been declared.

There was not a great deal of sleeping done that first night in camp. There seldom is, but on this particular occasion the boys had additional reason to be wakeful as they lay there under their blankets, and with the dun-colored waterproof canvas above them moving from time to time in the night breeze.

The frequent change of guards for one thing kept them from sound sleep. Then the fellows who were on duty persisted in walking about more or less; or else they talked in low but distinctly heard tones as they threw additional fuel on the fire.

Once Billy Worth managed to arouse the whole camp when out of his tent he came crawling forth, sniffing the air vigorously, and asking if that was breakfast getting ready he scented.

He was informed it was only an hour after midnight, and that he must have dreamed he smelled coffee; after which they chased him back to his blanket.

Well, dawn came finally, and it found the camp of the scouts undisturbed, for which all of them doubtless felt duly grateful. There was Bud Morgan, however, so fond of excitement that he never met with enough, heard to lament the fact that after all their fine preparations, and the waste of time that might have been put in napping, “nothing had happened after all.”

As they ate their breakfast of fried ham and eggs, the latter the gift of their grateful farmer friend, the scouts planned all sorts of diversions for that particular day. One wanted to do this thing, and another had his favorite scheme on his mind, which he was only waiting for a chance to try out.

Hugh always tried to suit the caprice of the boys when arranging plans for the day. It was most unwise to stick a round peg in a square hole, he figured. The fellow who was making a hobby of learning all about animal tracks and habits would be wasting his time with a camera trying to snap off scenery; or making a bungle of tying up the broken wing of an injured crow he had managed to catch.

“Every one to his taste,” was Hugh’s motto; and by adhering to this plan whenever practicable he managed not only to satisfy the boys but accomplish much better results than if he had persisted in crossing their wishes.

As for himself, Hugh had so many “hobbies” that he was ready and willing to join any group in carrying out their plans, for it was likely that in so doing he would be pleasing himself in the bargain.

All arrangements had been made for sharing the onerous duties of cook. Some of the boys were so much better at this than others, that an agreement was effected whereby those who did more than their share in preparing the meals, should escape wood-chopping and such hard labor.

Needless to say, Billy Worth gladly took upon his shoulders the task of relieving two other fellows at this cooking game; for he loved to be where he could make sure that there would be enough of a supply for everybody, because Billy hated a short allowance above all things. Then again it gave him something of a lofty position, since the cook was the “king of the camp” while at his labors.

He had set his scullions to work cleaning up the breakfast things, and was feeling quite important, Hugh noticed, as he bustled about, having donned the round little white cap that had been brought along in a spirit of humor to distinguish the Great Mogul who would be the officer of the day.

None of them had, however, started out on their several errands when Ralph Kenyon was seen to step up on a log, and shading his eyes with a hand, look earnestly off in a direction that might be called “up” the road.

“What did you think you saw, Ralph?” asked Billy, noticing the other. “I hope it turns out to be our friend the egg-man coming with a fresh supply.”

“Hugh, come here and take a look,” said Ralph, in a strained voice; “there’s something queer about that crowd, seems to me!”

No sooner had Hugh looked than he turned to the rest.

“Keep quiet, and do nothing to attract attention,” he said. “Fortunately the fire has burned itself nearly out, so there’s little or no smoke rising, and the breeze is coming from them to us. We’d better let them go past without knowing we’re in camp here.”

His words of warning thrilled every scout, and there was immediately a general movement under way to find some chance to discover what it was that had excited the two who had been standing on the log.

As they looked over the tops of the screening bushes, they discovered moving figures up the road; and at the same time could be heard the scuffling sound of many feet not keeping time as soldiers would have done.

The boys stared as they saw several squads of men passing swiftly along. It appeared as though some of these parties seemed suspicious, perhaps half anticipating an attack from the neighboring woods. They were on the whole a tough-looking crowd, and seemed to be muscular workers, some natives, others of foreign birth.

Half a dozen heavily-armed men strode along with them. At sight of the repeating rifles they carried, Billy whispered to Hugh, close to whom he now stood:

“Who are they, Hugh? Can they be game wardens arresting poachers up here?”

“I reckon that they are strike-breakers, guarded by armed deputies,” Hugh replied.