The Boy Scout Treasure Hunters; Or, The Lost Treasure of Buffalo Hollow Read online

  CHAPTER III

  JOLLY BILL IS CONSIDERABLY UPSET

  The treachery of Mr. J. Jervice was now very clear. He had decided thathe himself would hand Glen over to the authorities and receive the tendollars reward. Since Glen was almost as big as he, there had been somequestion how he should restrain the boy. He thought this all settled byhis clever scheme, and the ten dollars practically in his pocket. Nowonder he chuckled.

  But it is well for those who cage wild animals to be sure that the cageis properly prepared. Glen looked around in the gloom of the car. Heknew it was useless to bump against those solid doors. The way out laythrough Mr. J. Jervice, and the time for getting out was very brief. Ona shelf lay a bundle of sticks. He pulled on one and found on the otherend a flag. It was an emblem. The flag should bring him freedom.

  Glen found that the flag stick would just poke through the ventilatorrailing. Being effectively poked it struck Mr. J. Jervice neatly in theback of the neck, and the poke being vigorous, it aroused his attentionquite thoroughly.

  "Stop that," he cried, hastily dodging. "Them flags is worth a quarterapiece, and you'll break the handle."

  "Stop and let me out," cried Glen.

  "I can't stop now. I just made this change to accommodate you, remember.Stopping and starting is awfully expensive--takes as much gasoline asrunning a mile. We'll be in town in five minutes."

  "And then you think you will sell me for ten dollars. You'll lose moneyon it, Mr. Jervice. I have a sharp, open knife in my hand. I'm going toturn loose on everything in--"

  "Don't you dare," shouted Mr. Jervice.

  "But I will if you don't stop. You want to send me back to the reformschool. All I'll get will be a little longer sentence. Will that pay youfor your goods?"

  Mr. J. Jervice reluctantly stopped his car. He saw ten dollars vanishinginto the atmosphere. Whether Glen would have been as destructive as hethreatened does not enter into this record. We are obliged to admit thatat this time he was a wilful lad, and he was especially provoked at thisman because he had dragged him from the counsel and aid of Mr. Gatesfor the sole purpose of his personal gain. It is enough for us to knowthat Mr. J. Jervice quite believed that a reform school boy with a knifewas equal to anything.

  "Everything in here is in just as good order as when I came in," saidGlen, when the doors were opened. "I earned this ride, so I don't oweyou anything. Now you stand away off and let me get out."

  There was no need to be so emphatic. Mr. J. Jervice was neither a bigman nor a brave man, and had no idea of offering any opposition. Hestood well aside as Glen jumped from the car and ran away through thefields.

  One thing was very clear to Glen. Mr. J. Jervice would certainly reachtown in a few minutes and just as certainly would advise the authoritiesto look out for him. He might even come back with the officer, knowingthat the boy would have but a short start. Glen was standing by anabandoned stone quarry as these thoughts came to him. It contained manynooks and corners in which a boy might hide, and would be far safer forthe present than tramping along the road or in the fields. So he pickedout a secluded nook and lay there until evening. He watched eagerly forsigns of an officer or Mr. J. Jervice, but also fruitlessly. Had he butknown it he was perfectly safe, for Mr. J. Jervice was again havingtroubles of his own. Perhaps this was his day for trouble.

  Spending a whole day cooped up in a little niche about ten feet long bythree wide, even though it be as high as the heavens, is dreary work fora boy. The time dragged terribly. In his work on the school farm Glenhad learned to use the sun for a clock quite accurately, so there was nodeceiving himself as to time. He had eaten a good breakfast beforeleaving the Gates' home so there was no occasion for excessive hunger,but he did get very thirsty. Looking down through the old quarry hefancied he saw a pump, and when the sun reached its noon zenith he creptcautiously down and satisfied his thirst. There was no one in sight, yethe felt afraid to venture toward the town before dark, and went back tohis hiding place.

  On the way back he made a great find. Some careless workman had left amallet and chisel lying by a huge slab of stone. They were rusted by theweather but otherwise in good condition. Glen took them to his hidingplace and spent a great deal of the afternoon cleaning off the rust.Then he began work on a rough block of stone which lay near and wasgreatly gratified at the result of his labors. So the afternoon slippedaway without the dreariness of the morning.

  He was hungry now and tired and consumed with loneliness. His thoughtsturned to the pleasant home he had just left with a great longing. Theyhad given him good treatment--the Gates family. He contrasted Mr. Gateswith Mr. Jervice, stirring in his bosom a great indignation at thetreachery of Jervice, and also awakening a great trust and confidence inMr. Gates. Perhaps he was right after all. Perhaps it would be a goodthing for him to go back to the school, serve out his time, and then tryto make a man of himself. If the school had been close at hand he wouldhave gone at once, for the supper-time picture which rose to his mind,with the crowd of boys ready for their plain but wholesome food was avery attractive one just now. Where his supper was to come from he didnot know, for his only nickel had paid for the ticket to themerry-go-round.

  Now that it was dark enough to make his travel safe he picked up hischisel and mallet and climbed up the side of the quarry. The tools gavehim an idea. They were marketable and would surely provide a supper forhim. He looked them over as closely as the fading light would allow butfound no marks or initials to indicate the owner. So he felt a littlemore certain of his plans as he hurried along the road toward the town.

  He had no intention of going to a big store and offering the tools forsale. His choice would be rather a small general shop where he could getboth food and a hat in exchange for his offering. He felt that the lackof a hat as he walked through the streets would be sure to attractattention. He found just the place he needed at the very outskirts ofthe town, a little "general utility store" designed to supply the needsof the dwellers in outlying houses who did not wish to go to town forevery purchase.

  But the dealer was suspicious of a bareheaded boy in a man's suit ofclothes offering to trade a mallet and chisel for a meal and a strawhat.

  "Where did you get these things?" he asked, as he closely examined thetools.

  "I found them in the old quarry east of town," replied Glen.

  "You found them! They don't look like tools that have been lying aroundin an old quarry."

  "No, sir. Because I spent all afternoon cleaning them up."

  "I hope that's true, boy. I want to be fair with you. Wait a minutewhile I make a few inquiries."

  He turned to the telephone; and even as he did so Glen fled through theopen door. It was unfair, miserably unfair, he told himself as he ran,and the hot tears filled his eyes. He had found these tools all rusty,and spent all afternoon cleaning them, and now this man was bound tocall up the police. He did not stop to think that if he had been anhonest boy with a good record calling up the police would have meantnothing to him.

  Glen slowed his pace to a walk after a few blocks; a running boy was tooconspicuous. Every time he saw a man in any kind of a uniform he dodgedout of his way. A street-car conductor on his way home, who passed nearto him, gave him a great scare. And at last came a policeman who reallydid start after him; at least he walked in his direction and when Glenstarted to run he ran too. Glen was terribly frightened. He ran madly,not once looking behind, and therefore ignorant of the fact that afterone block the officer gave up the chase after a boy who was probablyplaying some foolish joke. It was a hot night but the sweat on Glen'sface was caused as much by terror as by his exertion. He ran not knowingwhere he was going and at last hardly seeing. Then he swung around asharp corner, came into collision with some kind of a vehicle, androlled over and over with it and its occupant into the gutter.

  Glen lay panting from the chase he had given himself, for just a second,and in that second he felt a large hand grip his arm in a firm grasp.But it was not the policeman. Beside him, w
ith his head touching thecurb, lay a strong young man. Across their bodies was the vehicle whichGlen had overturned, something like a large baby buggy or a smallinvalid chair, with a steering wheel in front. No one came to theirhelp, for Glen had instinctively selected the quiet streets and this oneseemed deserted save for them two. Seeing no policeman in sight Glengained confidence.

  "Let go of my arm," he cried.

  "I can't afford to just yet," replied the young man. "It's the onlything I've got to remember you by, unless you count this big bump on theback of my head."

  "I didn't mean to hurt you," said Glen.

  "I reckon not. I suppose it was thoughtless for me to get in your way.You must have been going somewhere."

  "Let me up. Please let me up, and I'll tell you all about it. I want youto help me. It isn't fair. I'm not getting a fair show."

  "Oh, that's the way, is it? Well, you're at the right shop. Nobody evercalls on Jolly Bill in vain. You get up and lift this automobile off myquivering frame and we'll see what we can do for you."

  Glen crawled out and managed to lift the vehicle off the young man'sbody.

  "Now you can get up, can't you," he asked.

  "With your kind assistance, noble sir." He raised himself to a sittingposition as he spoke. "This is as far as I get without your aid."

  Glen hardly knew how to help, though the conveyance told him that theyoung man was a cripple.

  "How shall I help you?" he asked. "Are your legs paralyzed?"

  "Worse than that, young fellow. My legs are dead and buried."

  "I'm awfully sorry," said Glen, his heart stirred with sympathy. "I'mglad you have such strong arms. They certainly are alive."

  "That's the way to talk about it, boy. Don't worry about what's gone.Look at what you have left. That's what I try to do, and that's why theycall me Jolly Bill. Now, a big heave and I can stand on my pegs whileyou bring my Billy-cart up this way."

  He was quite skillful about getting into his cart once Glen had him inthe right position.

  "Now I'll let you push me home, boy--two blocks ahead and one to yourright--and meantime you may tell me the sad story of your eventfulcareer."

  "Promise that you won't give me up," said Glen.

  "Whew! That sounds awfully interesting. You must be a desperatecharacter, and that perhaps explains your peculiar mode of rapidtransit. I'm so curious I promise."

  "It isn't so awfully bad," said Glen, feeling that his new friend waspoking fun. "I ran away from the reform school, that's all."

  "I don't know how bad that is," was the reply. "The question is are youreformed, are you reforming, or are you worse than ever?"

  "I want to reform," declared Glen, the first confession of the kind hehad ever made.

  "I suppose the best way to do it would be to go back to the school,"suggested Jolly Bill.

  "That's what Mr. Gates said," admitted Glen. "But I don't want to betaken back."

  "That sounds pretty fair. You don't want to be taken; you want to go. Iwant to go, but I have to be taken. I was hoping you were the boy to dosome taking for me."

  "You mean take you around," exclaimed Glen.

  "That's about what I mean. I'm an important personage and wherever Itravel I have to have a body guard."

  "I'd like to do it better than anything in the world!"

  "I believe you're just the boy if the reform school could wait for you aweek or two. I have a plan that will make me a fortune; but I can't workit out without a strong, energetic boy to help me."

  "I'm the boy," shouted Glen. "Try me. What is it?"

  "You won't give my secret away?"

  "Never. Upon my--"

  "Upon your what?"

  "Oh, I suppose you'd say I didn't have any."

  "You were going to say upon your honor. Certainly you have honor. Youmake it every day. To prove my confidence I will tell you my secret. Iwas born in this neighborhood and lived here most of my life. A fewyears ago a terrible accident deprived me of my father and at the sametime left me as you see me. I support my mother by selling real estate.Twenty miles or so from here I know of a great fortune. But it is hiddenaway, buried, choked up and forgotten. I have tried to get my friendsto hunt this out for me but they do not see things my way. So I need astrong healthy boy to help me, and together we will find thistreasure."