CHAPTER VIII

WORD FROM THE HERMIT

"Look here, you chaps," called Garry, as he gazed at the little roll of bark, which he had not yet picked up. The boys crowded around and looked at him in amazement.

"Without making any rash bets," announced Garry, "I'll wager my best rifle against a plugged nickel, that one of our friends has been in this vicinity within the past few hours. Cast your eyes on that roll of bark, and tell me if you dare that we won't find a funny cryptic little message in it!"

"The Hermit!" burst out Dick and Phil almost in one breath.

"That's my guess. Now we'll see if we are right," and Garry stooped and picked up the little roll from its resting place beneath the stone. "It's the Hermit, and it's just the kind of a note I expected to find. Listen to this. 'Unseen watchers often give the best aid. When you need me most, I'll be with you.' And it's signed with his old mark, the lone pine with the crossmarked boulder," said Garry as he had finished reading.

"Well, if that doesn't beat anything I ever heard of," said Dick. "How in the name of all that's wonderful did he ever find us in this part of the country?"

"I think I can answer that," interrupted Phil. "He must have run across Nate Webster and asked about us. It is likely that Nate told him where we were going, and since he knew that we were good friends, might have given him an inkling of the business that we were here on. The thing that puzzles me is why he should not have waited and seen us, or even waked us up to say howdy."

"Well, you know what a queer old codger he was, and this latest stunt is typical of him. Much as I would like to see him, I confess I would have been a little bit disappointed if he had not done something out of the ordinary," replied Garry.

"Wonder where he went after he left the note?" queried Dick.

"Oh, he's probably somewhere out in the woods, you know life in the open woods is nothing to him, after all the years that he must have lived in them. The main question now, since we can do nothing about our friend the Hermit, as he will come in his own good time, is to see what has happened to Sandy. I cannot understand his going away. He may have chased up some animal, and if so he will be back. But it is unusual for him ever to stir away from where we are sleeping until he knows that we are up and about."

Throughout the morning they searched every nook and corner of the camp, going almost to the edge of the cutting operations, asking all the workers they met whether or not the dog had been seen. Their search was of no avail. The day dragged on, still no Sandy, and each passing hour made the chums more downcast.

"I'm beginning to think that this is step number two to drive us out," gritted Garry between his teeth. "I tell you this, boys, if it is so, and I'm inclined to believe it more and more, if any harm comes to Sandy through the machinations of this crew that are trying to ruin Dad's business, there's going to be one of the sweetest little wars started that Barrows and his whole crew ever even dreamed of."

"I'm with you, Garry. That dog was more than human, and the best friend that a bunch of chums like us could ever hope to have," replied Dick as he patted his friend on the shoulder. Phil said nothing, but the others could see by the tightening of the corners of his mouth,--the danger signal when Phil was really aroused over anything,--that he was with them to the end.

"There doesn't seem to be anything that we can do. I've looked carefully over the ground for any signs of a struggle, but I can find nothing. There was some trickery of some kind to get Sandy away. It may have been done only to steal him and possibly sell him, but it may be that there was a foul purpose in getting the dog away from us. The time has come for real action. Let's get going early in the morning and keep our eyes and ears sharply on the lookout. Phil, you watch the cookee closely and see if there are any more midnight appointments to be made. Dick, you look out for the sawmill, and see if there is any funny business being done with the saw. You know enough about machinery to be able to detect if it is working properly, and your common sense will tell you if there seems to be a slackening up of production. It stands to reason that the boss of the sawmill must be in on this scheme, for more delay can be caused here than anywhere else. It is unlikely that there are many men in on this plot. Too many would make it unsafe for the conspirators, they couldn't all keep their mouths shut. I'll keep an eye on Barrows and see what conferences he holds with the men. I hope that Howells gets back here soon, I feel that we need immediate advice from someone who is more experienced in the lumbering business than we are. Now let's hop to it."

The two boys did as their leader had directed. Phil ambled off to the cookhouse with the intention of offering his services in peeling potatoes to the cookee in order that he might have an excuse for keeping near the fellow. Dick at once made for the sawmill.

When he arrived there, the busy hum of activity seemed to be all about him. But as he watched he became conscious of the fact that there seemed to be several things that delayed the game. The man who drove one of the tractors seemed to be having continual trouble with the engine, and several minutes on each trip were consumed in needless repairs. Dick could see with half an eye that there was little the trouble with the engine except that which was created by the driver himself. The man kept up a continual stream of grumbling at the way the engine was acting, evidently to make the trouble appear to be real.

Once Dick saw that there was a loose wire connection which the driver purposely overlooked, and after he had watched the man waste ten minutes in needless overhauling, he stepped up and offered his services.

The man refused with a growl and an oath. Dick managed to restrain his temper, although he wanted to tell the man how evident his stalling around was.

"Oh, all right, I don't mean to interfere with your business, but your wire to your battery is unconnected," and Dick turned on his heel.

Seeing that Dick really knew what he was talking about, the driver attached the wire and in a moment or two was off for another load of logs.

"If he wastes that much time every trip," thought Dick to himself, "he might just as well try to bring in the logs on his back. In the course of a week that would mean almost a day's production gone to waste, and I haven't watched long enough to know how much time he takes on his trip."

Quite frequently the saw would be stopped for a moment while the boss sawyer oiled up different parts of the machinery. He did not seem to like Dick's watching him, but he was evidently a little wiser than the driver, and attempted an explanation.

"This is the last saw we have in the camp," he told Dick. "The ones that we ordered haven't shown up yet, and if anything goes wrong with this one, we are hurt and hurt bad."

Dick pretended a great deal of ignorance about the saw, but he could see that the sawyer regarded him with some suspicion.

Dick kept in the sawmill, but stayed as much as possible in the background. After nearly an hour of watching, a great log was rolled onto the carriage, and glancing at his watch, the boss sawyer called an assistant and gave him charge of the saw. Then he hastened from the mill and started in the direction of the camp, evidently to hold a conference with Barrows. Dick was turning to saunter out when he heard a terrific tearing sound as of steel being ground between heavy rollers, then a cry of pain from the sawyer. Dick turned and rushed to the scene. The saw was still grinding into the obstruction that was causing the noise, and several pieces of flying steel were in the air. The sawyer had his hands clasped to his face, and the blood was streaming from between his fingers.

Dick saw that there was no one with presence of mind enough to throw the lever that shut off the saw, and he ran and threw off the lever. Then he returned to the injured man. The flying teeth of the saw had cut his face in several places, but fortunately his eyes were uninjured. That he had escaped being blinded was almost a miracle.

The thought that flashed through Dick's mind that here was an instance of what Howells had told them, of the spiking a tree in the upper part where it would hit the saw. Dick asked the old man who had told them how to fumigate their shack the day before if he could roll back the saw without starting up the engine and causing more teeth to be broken and start flying about the place.

In a few minutes the old timer had worked the saw back so that Dick could examine it. It required only a moment to see that the saw was irreparably ruined. Most of the teeth had been bent or broken off, and a further examination showed that several parts of the saw carriage and control had been broken or strained by the unwonted burden that had been put on them.

At this moment the boss sawyer and Barrows, the manager, had come rushing up to the mill to inquire what was the trouble. Garry was with them, and Dick gave him a significant look, unobserved by the others.

"What's all the trouble?" inquired Barrows needlessly, for he could see with half an eye the damage that had been wrought.

"Seems as if your saw was a total wreck," answered Dick. "Must have struck a ton of metal in the heart of that tree to do all that damage."

"Nonsense," cried Barrows. "Whoever heard of metal in a tree?"

"Could it have been a defective saw?" inquired Garry soberly, for the purpose of hearing what reply Barrows would make.

"Yes, that's what it must have been, a defective saw," repeated the manager, parrot fashion.

"Defective saw me eye," broke in the old helper. "That tree has been spiked and spiked good and plenty. That's the second saw that went that way this summer. Tother time it nearly killed the sawyer when the belt flew off and almost got him tangled up in the machinery. There's one sure way to find out what caused it, and that's to roll her off the carriage and split off that place where the saw started to eat through. If there isn't a spike there, you can have my month's wages."

"You seem to know all about it, and perhaps we shall find out why you know so much about the matter," and Barrows favored the old man with a look that boded no good to him.

In the face of the old timer's statement, and because Dick and Garry were looking at the manager as though they expected him to take speedy action, there was nothing for Barrows to do but follow the suggestion and order the log rolled off. This was done, and then several wedges were driven in, and using the backs of single bitted axes, the section of tree was soon split open. There plainly revealed to view were several bent, cut and twisted spikes!

"That's what broke your saw," exclaimed the old man. "Shame, too, a nice saw like that ruined and the only one in the camp at that!"

"That will do, Collins," cut in Barrows sharply. "Your opinion wasn't asked. Besides, I am still wondering how your knowledge of the spiking seemed to prove so accurate."

"I was raised in the woods, and I know all the little tricks. There's dirty work afoot here somewhere," returned old Collins staunchly.

"Yes, I guess you do know all the tricks, but I know a good one, too; you go and get your pay from the timekeeper and start on your way," ground out the manager.

"Isn't that just a trifle hasty, Mr. Barrows?" cut in Garry.

"Listen, my boy. With all due respect to the son of my employer, I must say that I am manager of this camp, and what I say goes. You know I am protecting your father's business, and there has been so much funny business going on lately that something must be done, and I am going to begin by cutting out all the suspicious characters. In my judgment Collins is such a character."

"Huh," muttered Dick in an undertone. "A fine protector you are, and you know that Collins is innocent. He knows too much, that's all."

Old Collins marched out of the mill section and started toward the office. A moment later Dick unobtrusively followed him. In a few seconds he had caught up with the man and said goodbye to him.

"Goodbye, my lad, and let me give you a warning. Tell your pal that his father's business is going to pot here. There's something underfoot, I don't know what it is or why, but it's there. Too many accidents. You watch that Barrows and watch the timekeeper, and keep an eye on the two drivers with the moustaches. Throw in the cookee for good measure, and you'll have a precious lot of rascals."

Dick tried to elicit further information, but found that the old fellow either did not know anything specific, or was crotchety and would not tell.

There being nothing that could be done further, the manager and Dick returned to the office, while Garry went to the bunkhouse to see if he could render any aid to the man who had been cut by the flying particles of the saw.

At the office they found waiting their acquaintance of the attempted holdup, Arthur Howells. He acted according to the agreement and waited till they had been introduced.

"This is our scaler and cruiser," announced Barrows.

Upon the boys professing ignorance of what the duties of a scaler were, they received an invitation from Howells to come with him after dinner and watch the operations. Barrows heartily advised the boys to go with him and learn something of the way in which the trees were spotted and the lumber measured.

The chums knew well that the invitation was solely for the purpose of getting them away from the camp so that they could confer on what was going on.

After dinner they sought out Howells, and after he had armed himself with a scaling stick, marked off in measurements, which was used to measure the trees, they wandered into the woods.

"Now, boys, what news?" he asked.

In a few words they told him of the events that had transpired since their arrival.

Howells was especially interested in the matter of the spiked tree, and was indignant at the fact that Collins had been discharged.

"Why, the old man was as honest as the day is long. He used to know your father a good many years ago, Garry, and he would never do anything that would harm him or his business," Howells said vehemently.

"Next thing on the docket," said Garry, "is to ask what news you have."

"I have something that will knock the feet almost out from under you. In addition to the trouble caused by the breakage and wasting, there is something even deeper yet. I always get the reports from the receiving stations of the amount of lumber that is sent out. I know after measuring, just how much has gone out. Today my reports show that all the timber that is cut here does not arrive at its destination.

"What do you mean?" said Garry.

"Just what I mean is this. Somewhere, somehow, your father's lumber is being stolen en route to its destination!"