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Rick and Ruddy

<h3>CHAPTER XVI CAMPING OUT</h3> Rick, Chot and Tom—the three boys who were trailing the dog that had been taken away by the ragged sailor—came to a stop as they saw the old log cabin in the lonely hollow just off the road. "We've found it!" Rick had said, and this was true enough as to the junk wagon. But there was no horse, no men and certainly not a dog. If Ruddy had been there you may well believe he would have been running around, if free. And as soon as the wind had brought to his sensitive nose the scent of his boy master he would have run to Rick with leaps and bounds and joyous barks. "What'll we do?" asked Tom. "Let's go up there and get back Rick's dog!" exclaimed Chot. "But maybe Ruddy isn't there," suggested Tom. "I don't see him, and maybe that isn't the junk wagon we're looking for." "I'm sure it's the right wagon," spoke Rick. "But I don't see Ruddy. And I don't see any horse." "Whistle for him!" advised Tom. "Whistle for the horse?" Rick wanted to know. "Whistle for the dog, I mean. If he's there he'll come out to you. Maybe he's inside the log cabin. I wonder what it's for, anyhow? I have never been over so far on this road before." "This is a log cabin that a gun club used to use when they shot at targets," said Chot. "Some of us Boy Scouts stopped here one day and cooked our dinner. The gun club doesn't use the cabin any more." "It'd be a fine place to camp out—if there weren't a lot of junk men in it," declared Tom. "Go on and whistle for your dog, Rick." "But don't whistle too loud," advised Chot. "If the old junk man, and the sailor who must have rode with him, are there we don't want them to hear us. All we want is the dog." "That's so," agreed Tom. "Course we ought to have that man arrested for taking Rick's dog. But no use looking for trouble. If we can get Ruddy back that's all we want." "I'll whistle," offered Rick. He puckered up his lips and gave a low, but clear call—one he often used to summon Ruddy. But this time there was no answer. Ruddy did not burst out from under a bush, or from among the weeds, as he frequently did, with dried leaves clinging to him when he had nosed in among them seeking the cause of many strange, wild smells. "Guess Ruddy isn't there," said Rick, with a sigh, after several whistles. "Come on; let's go up and look!" advised Chot. "Maybe they've got him hidden inside the cabin." The boys hesitated a moment. They were not very big nor old, and the idea of facing two grown men, one of whom had been bold enough to entice away, or steal, Ruddy, was a little alarming at first. "Oh, come on!" said Chot, desperately enough. "There's nothing to be afraid of! We got a right to help Rick get back his dog!" And so, rather timidly it must be admitted, they went through the fence, at the bars where the junk wagon had found a passage, and approached the cabin. They could see the wagon more plainly now. It was filled with odds and ends of the sort of junk which the men who collect it seem to make money on. There were bundles of papers, part of a broken stove, the spring of a bed, some old auto tires and bags of rags. "It's funny he left it here without the horse," said Tom. "Maybe his horse lost a shoe, same as an automobile gets a puncture," said Rick, "and he had to take his horse to a blacksmith shop. So he left the wagon here." "Maybe," agreed Chot. "But blacksmiths aren't open after dark—anyhow the one on our street isn't." "Well, anyhow here's the wagon, but the horse is gone and so are the men and so's Ruddy!" spoke Tom. But at that instant there was a noise that seemed to come from behind the cabin. It was a loud noise. "What's that?" cried Tom. For a moment his two chums were so startled that they could not answer. Then, as the strange sound came again, Chot said: "It's just a horse whinneying!" "The junk man's horse," added Rick. And so it was. They saw the animal a moment later, tied by a long rope to the back of the log cabin. The horse looked up and stopped chewing a mouthful of grass he had just pulled. He had whinneyed as he heard the footsteps of the boys and their voices. Perhaps the horse thought his master was coming to give him a drink of water or take him to a stable. However, the junk man's horse went to cropping grass again when he saw that the boys were evidently not coming any nearer to him. "Ruddy isn't here," announced Rick, looking across the fast-dimming meadow back of the log cabin. Night was falling rapidly now, for the long, summer days were at an end, and autumn would soon give place to winter. "My dog isn't here!" and there was a catch in Rick's voice that sounded as though he were going to cry; but he didn't. Again Chot was walking around, leaning over close to the ground. Suddenly, out near the place in the fence where the bars had been taken down, to allow the wagon to be driven in, Chot lighted a match. "He's been here!" he cried, pointing to something in the moist earth. There was a patch where the grass, from the side of the highway, had grown partly over the road. It was a spot seldom touched by horses, autos or wagons. And here the earth was damp because, not far away, was a trickling rill of water. "He's been here!" exclaimed Chot. "Who?" asked Rick. "Your dog! I can see the marks of his feet! Look, those are a dog's tracks!" Surely they were the marks of some animal, and when Rick looked more closely at them, in the light of another flickering match, he knew they were made by a dog's paws. "I wonder if it could be Ruddy?" he murmured. "I wonder?" "Sure it was," asserted Chot. "I'm a Boy Scout, and I know a lot of different animals' footprints. I can tell a rabbit's when I see 'em in the snow. This is your dog all right, Rick!" "But where is he?" asked the boy, whose pet had come to him out of the ocean. "He must be somewhere around here," spoke Tom. "I guess the junk man and the sailor drove here, and left the wagon for the night. Then they went on somewhere else with your dog." "But where did they go?" asked Rick. "That's what we got to find out," said Chot. "I'll tell you what we've got to do," he added, drawing his chums toward him, and speaking in a low voice, though no one but the two boys was within hearing distance, as far as the lads knew. "We got to stay here until that junk man comes back after his horse and wagon. Then we'll make him tell us where the dog is." "S'posin' he won't?" asked Tom. "We'll make him! If he hasn't got your dog, Rick, maybe the sailor has, and we'll find out where he went. We've got to stay here until that junk fellow comes back. He'll come all right. He won't go away and leave his horse and wagon." "Where can we stay?" asked Rick. "In the log cabin, of course," answered Chot. "Some of the older Boy Scouts camp out here two or three nights. There's a fireplace in the cabin where you can cook, and an old oil stove; and there's some sleeping bunks. Course it isn't real good, but Boy Scouts don't mind." "Do you mean we should stay camping out here all night?" asked Rick, and his voice had a strange awesome note in it. "Sure, stay camping here all night—or until the junk man comes back," answered Chot. "Why not?" "I'd have to ask my mother," Rick said. "I promised to be back before night, and it's almost dark now." Chot thought this over a moment or two before answering. "I'll tell you what we can do," he said. "We'll all go back home—we got to get things to eat, anyhow, and some blankets. Then we'll come back here and stay all night." "All alone?" asked Tom. "There's three of us," retorted Chot. "I stayed out all night once with some Boy Scouts. Course we had the Scout Master with us——" "Oh, well, no wonder!" cried Tom. "Well, maybe I can get our Scout Master to come back with us now and stay all night," went on Chot. "He'd like it. That's what we'll do! We'll go back home, get something to cook for supper, bring some blankets and stay all night. We'll camp out in the log cabin. It'll be lots of fun!" "Will you sure get the Scout Master?" asked Rick, to whom the idea was appealing more and more strongly. "Sure I'll get him!" promised Chot. "He'll come. Now come on! Let's hurry back home and get the things." They started on their way, down the now almost dark road, and then Rick happened to think of something. "S'posin' the junk man and the sailor come back while we're gone?" he asked. "Then how we going to get Ruddy?" "I didn't think of that," admitted Chot. "Let's see," he said, musingly. "We passed a house a ways back, just before we saw this cabin. We could stop there and ask 'em to sort of keep an eye on this shack until we get back." "Yes, we could do that," agreed Rick. "But it's going to take us a long time to go home and come back." "Oh, maybe we'll get a lift," suggested Chot, always a hopeful sort of chap. They had better luck than they expected. At the nearest house to the log cabin, where they stopped, they told their story of how they were searching for Ruddy. The place was a farm, and a boy who lived there belonged to the Scouts, though not to the same troop of which Chot was a member. "I'll go down and keep watch on the place 'till you get back," offered this boy. "And I'll stay with you all night, if dad'll let me." "That's fine!" exclaimed Rick and his chums echoed this sentiment. And they had not finished talking about this before the farmer, who had heard their story, not only gave permission for his son to help, and aid in standing guard through the night, but also offered to run Rick, Chot and Tom over to Belemere in his auto. "I'll bring you back, too!" he said. "Oh, I'm sure we'll find Ruddy now!" declared Rick, who was both excited and delighted. There was some more excitement when he reached home. His parents were beginning to be alarmed about him. But he quickly told what had happened, and as the Scout Master, summoned by Chot over the telephone, agreed to accompany the boys back to the cabin, Rick was allowed to go with them. "Oh, I do hope he'll be all right!" said his mother. "He's never been away from home like this before!" "It will do him good, and we can safely trust him with the Scout Master," said Mr. Dalton. "Oh! oh!" Mazie had exclaimed when she heard the plans. "Are you going to sleep in the cabin all night, Rick?" "Well, I won't sleep all night," he answered, as he rolled up his blankets and took his bundle of food. "We got to stay on watch, some of us, to catch the junk man, or the sailor, if he comes back with the junk fellow, to get his horse and wagon. That's how we'll get Ruddy." "Oh, I want Ruddy! I love him!" said the little girl, and in thinking about the lost dog she did not feel so much fear at having Rick stay away from home over night. But, even in spite of the confidence Mr. Dalton had in the scout master, Mrs. Dalton was nervous. "I'll take good care of him—never fear!" Harry Taylor, the Scout Master, promised with a smile, as the boys piled in the auto for the ride back with the farmer. "I won't let him get even the snuffles!" "That's what I'm afraid of—having him catch cold!" said Rick's mother. But she wanted her son to be a manly boy, so she let him go. And you may well believe there were joyous hearts in the little party of lads who were on their way to camp in the old log cabin. It was more than a mere camping crowd—they were trying to catch the man who had Rick's dog! <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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