Chapter IV: Part 4

Now, instantly recognizing his face and uniform, a wave of relief swept over her. He would know how to help her notify the State Highway Patrol quickly!

“Oh, ranger!” she called, for in the excitement of the moment, his name temporarily fled from her mind.

“Yes?” The ranger turned to regard Judy with intent curiosity.

“Can you help me make a report to the State Highway Department right away?”

“Why sure,” the ranger replied. “What’s wrong? An automobile accident?”

Judy jerked her head to indicate the cafe across the street. “Two men are in there eating lunch,” she explained, trying to hold her voice steady. “I’m sure one of them is Joe Pompilli!”

“Not the hi-jacker?”

Judy’s head bobbed excitedly. “I know he’s the same one Kathleen and I helped the other day when a truck went off the road. I want to get word to the State Highway Department right away.”

“Take it easy,” the ranger advised as Judy turned as if to start off alone. “You’re mistaken, I think. Joe Pompilli wouldn’t dare to show himself openly here.”

“It does seem a reckless thing for him to do,” Judy conceded. “But I’m sure the man is the same one.”

“You must be wrong, but to prove it I’ll go over with you to the cafe,” Diethelm offered.

Crossing the street, Judy and the ranger peered in through the big plate glass window. The two truckers still were seated at the lunch counter.

“Which one do you say is Joe?” the ranger demanded.

“The one with the square jaw, seated next to the wall. I never saw the other man before.”

Diethelm began to chuckle in a hard sort of manner which grated unpleasantly on Judy’s ears.

“Why are you laughing?” she asked. “Isn’t that man Joe Pompilli?”

“Not on your life. Both those men are truckers for the Peoria Cartage Co., and they make this town every few days. It’s lucky you ran into me before you went blabbering your suspicions to the State Highway patrol. If you’d accused those two of being hi-jackers, they might not have liked it.”

“But I can’t understand it, unless I was misinformed by the state highwaymen,” Judy stammered, completely crushed by the mistake she had made. “That man certainly was hurt in an accident. He’s wearing a wrist bandage and there are cuts on his face! The other Scouts and myself gave him first aid treatment.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ranger Diethelm replied with a shrug. “The state patrolmen either made a mistake in identifying him, or gave you the wrong dope.”

“Shouldn’t I call Highway headquarters to make sure?”

“You’ll be making a silly mistake if you do,” warned the ranger. “A mistake that will make your Scout organization the laughing stock of the community. Take my word for it, those two men are Jim Brady and Donald Fine, two highly respected truckers. But go ahead if you want to make the call.”

Lowell Diethelm’s words, and particularly his air of amusement, robbed Judy of all desire to risk action which might hold up her organization to possible ridicule.

She hesitated. The ranger mistook her silence for unwillingness to follow his suggestion.

“Instead of trying to track down criminals, you Scouts would do better to look after affairs around your own camp,” he said cuttingly.

“Why, what do you mean?” asked Judy, startled. She had detected a hostile note in the ranger’s voice.

“You girls should be more careful about starting camp fires.”

“We’re always careful,” Judy insisted indignantly.

“Didn’t you have a fire this afternoon at Fountain Falls?”

“Yes, but we were granted a permit. We took great care with our fire, dousing the coals with water and covering the dead ashes with dirt as an added precaution.”

“Well, not thirty minutes ago, our spotter at Tower 32 reported a small fire close to the Falls. Fortunately, it was put out before it spread.”

“It couldn’t have been our fire, and we shouldn’t be blamed for it,” Judy said, her eyes flashing.

“Some member of your party may have dropped a lighted match.”

“None of us had any. Only our leader carried matches.”

“Well, I don’t know how the fire started,” the ranger admitted. “Just be more careful, that’s all. Now about reporting this trucker you think is Joe Pompilli--”

“I guess I must have made a mistake,” Judy mumbled. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

“No trouble at all,” Diethelm replied, as he smiled as if suddenly relieved. “We rangers always try to be of service. Watch those fires now!”

Tipping his broad-brimmed hat, he sauntered on down the darkening street.

With mingled feelings, Judy was watching the retreating figure. Humiliated that she had made a mistake in identifying Joe Pompilli, she nevertheless was annoyed at the ranger for trying to accuse the Scouts in connection with a newly discovered fire.

“I think he dragged that in just to bother me,” she thought resentfully. “But why should he take such an attitude?”

As Judy stood by the cafe window, wondering what to do, Kathleen signaled to her from the inside. Her friend’s meaning was not immediately clear. Then she comprehended that the two truckers were paying their bill, preparatory to leaving the cafe.

“I’ll have to let them go,” Judy decided. “Nothing else to do.”

A moment later the two truckers came outside. Judy did not try to stop them, but they passed almost in front of her.

The one she had taken to be Joe Pompilli gazed squarely at her. Involuntarily, he half stopped. Then, deliberately turning his gaze away, he went on.

“He recognized me!” Judy thought, her pulse pounding. “I know he was that same man Kathleen and I helped on the road. He was called Joe too!”

Ignoring the girl entirely, the two men went on. Judy saw them get into a truck which bore the Peoria Cartage Co., name on its side. A moment before they drove away, she jotted down the license number.

She had just finished scribbling the numbers on the back of an old envelope, when Kathleen joined her.

“What happened?” her friend demanded. “I thought you were going to have those men arrested. Couldn’t you reach the Highway Patrol station?”

“I didn’t try,” Judy confessed ruefully.

“You didn’t try? Why not?”

Judy recounted her conversation with the ranger.

“He talked me out of it,” she concluded. “I can’t help thinking I made a mistake too. I wish I’d ignored his advice. It’s too late now, of course.”

“I know that man was the same one we met,” Kathleen insisted.

“I’m sure of it too,” Judy nodded. “Ranger Diethelm insists he’s an ordinary trucker and his name is either Jim Brady or Donald Fine.”

“Well, that doesn’t fit in with what we learned,” Kathleen declared, shaking her head. “That man was called Joe by his friend.”

“I know,” Judy agreed with a deep sigh. “I’m all mixed up. I guess the best thing to do is to forget those hi-jackers and let the state patrol handle the situation. I’ve made a mess of it!”

“No such thing,” Kathleen insisted loyally. “We may have made a mistake, but if so, it wasn’t our fault. We must have acted on mis-information.”

Judy grinned and squeezed her friend’s hand. “You’re a dear,” she said, “always bucking up my morale. Do me a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Then, let’s keep this little episode to ourselves. The other Scouts didn’t hear about it?”

“No, I didn’t say a word to anyone. I just kept out of view and watched those two men as you suggested.”

“Good!” Judy drew a relieved sigh. “If this gets out on me, my name will be mud! You know, I’m already being teased at Pine Cone Camp because of the Calico Cottage ghost!”

“We’re all taking a ribbing because of that boy with the flute,” Kathleen admitted. “Any theory as to what causes the strange sounds?”

“No, not yet,” Judy replied. “Everything was quiet the last night I spent at the cottage. I’m wondering though, how Aunt Mattie got along last evening?”

“Perhaps our driver will stop at the cottage for a few minutes, so we can check.”

“I intend to ask him,” Judy returned. “It must be seven o’clock now.”

“It is,” Kathleen agreed, “and our driver is coming now!”

She had sighted the familiar camp station wagon rounding a corner. It waited for a traffic light and then came on, to park in front of the restaurant.

The driver had been instructed to make two trips, as not all of the girls could be seated in the vehicle. Accordingly, he designated those who should remain behind.

Judy, Kathleen and other members of the Beaver Patrol, managed to find a place for themselves in the first load.

On short time, the driver told Judy he could not possibly wait at Calico Cottage. However, he compromised by agreeing to let her and Kathleen off there, while he continued on to camp. Then on the second trip, he would pick them up.

“Fine and dandy!” Judy approved. “That will give us nearly an hour to talk to Aunt Mattie and make certain everything is all right.”

The station wagon climbed the darkening mountain road, presently halting near the cottage. As Kathleen and Judy alighted, they noticed that lights blazed everywhere inside the dwelling.

“Aunt Mattie is here all right!” Judy remarked, leading the way across the lawn. “I wonder why she has all the lights burning?”

“So early too,” Kathleen added.

Even before the Scouts reached the front door, it was flung open by Miss Meadows, who had noted the arrival of the station wagon.

“Oh, I’m so glad you came!” the woman exclaimed.

Her face seemed drained of all color, and her eyes had a frightened look.

“Why, Aunt Mattie!” Judy exclaimed. “Is anything wrong?”

“This dreadful cottage!”

“You’ve been hearing music?” Judy surmised.

“Music?”

“What was it that upset you?” Judy asked, realizing she had made a poor guess. “Not another one of those mysterious telephone calls?”

“No! No!” Miss Meadows stepped back so that the girls might enter the cottage. “Just come in,” she invited. “Then you’ll hear for yourselves, and I won’t need to explain!”

_Chapter 16_

ANOTHER DISTURBANCE

Scarcely knowing what to expect, Judy and Kathleen entered Calico Cottage. Everything appeared quite normal, except that a chair in the kitchen had been overturned.

“I upset it myself,” Miss Meadows explained. “I--I was rather excited, I’m afraid.”

“Tell us what happened, Aunt Mattie,” Judy urged. “What disturbed you?”

“It was a dreadful sound from the basement. A sort of moan as if someone were in pain. And then to top it, there came a series of loud thumps, very much like muffled thunder.”

“That couldn’t have been someone setting off dynamite at a distance?” Kathleen suggested. “I know the rangers were blasting trees in the park area.”

“This sound came from the cellar,” Miss Meadows insisted.

“How long ago, Aunt Mattie?” questioned Judy.

“About ten minutes, I’d judge.”

“Did you go down there to check?”

“To the cellar?” Miss Meadows demanded. “I most assuredly did not!”

“Then I guess the job is up to us,” Judy said, looking directly at Kathleen. “Where’s that key?”

“I don’t think you should go down into that dreary hole,” Miss Meadows protested.

“Nonsense, Aunt Mattie! We investigated once before, and everything was all right. You’ve not had the door unlocked since?”

“Absolutely, not. I’ve been here at the cottage all the while too.”

“Then no one could be down there.”

“I didn’t imagine those weird sounds,” Miss Meadows said. “If you had been here--”

Suddenly she stiffened. From beneath the kitchen floor there issued forth a series of muffled thuds.

“Hear it?” Miss Meadows whispered, staring fixedly at the locked cellar door.

The sound ceased and the cottage was as quiet as before. Judy and Kathleen stood transfixed, dreading to take the action which they felt they must.

“Where’s that key?” Judy finally murmured, groping for it on the high kitchen shelf.

“Don’t go down there,” Miss Meadows advised nervously. “It might be dangerous.”

“It’s worse not to investigate,” Judy insisted. “You can’t stay here and live in constant dread.”

Her fingers closed upon the key. She unlocked the door, but hesitated as she peered down the dark stairway.

“Do you have a flashlight?” she asked Kathleen, who huddled at her elbow.

“In my knapsack,” Kathleen replied. “But I left it on the station wagon, never thinking I’d want it here.”

“There are candles on the shelf,” Miss Meadows remembered. “I’ll get one, if you insist on going down there. I’d rather just move out of this place though!”

“I don’t know where you’ll find another cottage on short notice,” Judy told her regretfully. “Everything around here has been taken.”

“I can go to a hotel.”

“The closest one is eighteen miles away. Aunt Mattie, I don’t like to urge you to stay, but there must be a logical explanation for these strange noises. I mean to find it too! Let me have one of those candles.”

Miss Meadows found it for her, and lighted the wick.

“Watch the drip of the wax,” she advised, “or you’ll burn your hand.”

The glowing candle made a flickering, ghostly circle of light on the rough walls of the stairway.

Resolutely, Judy started down. Close behind her came Kathleen, while Miss Meadows unwillingly brought up the rear.

Judy descended a half dozen steps, only to pause. A slight breath of air caused the candle to waver and nearly go out. And at the same moment, she caught an unpleasant odor which seemed to rise from the darkness below.

“Mercy!” gasped Miss Meadows, as she too sniffed the air.

The musty scent became stronger as the three went on down. Judy localized it in the main cellar room, toward the south east wall.

However, in slowly moving the candle about, she could find no cause for the unpleasant odor.

“It’s such a strange smell,” Kathleen commented with a nervous shiver. “A sort of stale air scent. But from where does it come?”

Judy asked Kathleen to hold the candle. Carefully, she ran her hand over the brick wall, feeling along the line of crumbling mortar.

“There’s an opening here!” she suddenly exclaimed. “I can feel cool air coming in!”

Excited by Judy’s discovery, Kathleen held the candle higher.

As she raised it in line with the brick which Judy’s exploring hand had found, a direct current of air extinguished the flame.

The three were left in total darkness.

“I’ll get some matches,” Miss Meadows said eager to be out of the basement. “But is there any need to explore further? Haven’t we discovered everything there is to learn?”

“Not quite everything,” said Judy. “We’ve learned where that musty odor comes from though. It is being blasted in through the broken mortar.”

“How strange,” Kathleen murmured. “Shouldn’t there be solid dirt or rock behind these walls and under the floor?”

“One would think so,” Judy agreed thoughtfully, “unless--”

“There might be a tunnel connected with the cottage!” Kathleen speculated.

“A tunnel, possibly tied up with Calico Cave,” Judy carried on the thought. “Even so, that doesn’t explain those strange banging noises.”

Leaving the girls alone in the cellar, Miss Meadows went quickly for matches. She returned promptly and the candle was relighted.

This time, Judy was careful to shield it with her hand so that it would not be blown out.

In the uncertain light, the three were able to see a faint, rectangular outline on the wall, which marked a division between old and newer bricks.

“At one time, there must have been an opening here!” Judy asserted, elated by her discovery. “A long while ago, apparently, the passageway or whatever it is, was bricked over. Now that the mortar is falling away, cold air filters in.”

“From where?” Kathleen demanded.

“That’s what we’ll have to learn, if we can. I have a hunch Captain Hager might be able to supply interesting information.”

“I’ll bet he could at that!” cried Kathleen. “Since he lived in the old house so many years, he must have known about this bricked up place on the wall. In fact, he may have closed it himself.”

“The captain hinted that Mr. Krumm made a bad mistake in building the cottage on the old foundation,” Judy recalled. “I’m sure he knows a lot about this place that he hasn’t told!”

“Say, wouldn’t it be great if we could solve the mystery before we leave Pine Cone Camp? You’d win a rental bonus too from Mr. Krumm, Judy!”

“I don’t care about that part, but it would be fun to hit upon an explanation for everything that’s happened here. The thing that puzzles me most is that boy with the flute--”

“Boy with a flute?” Miss Meadow interposed, her voice rising.

Judy regretted her slip of tongue. Nevertheless, having made the mistake, she could do no less than tell her aunt about the strange musical notes which had startled the Scouts during the night they had spent at the cottage.

“What manner of place have I rented?” Miss Meadows gasped. “Is the cottage haunted?”

“By the spirit of the White Witch,” Judy said with a giggle. Then, becoming sober, she added: “I’m sure there’s no danger here, Aunt Mattie. Even so, you mustn’t stay another night. Come with us to Pine Cone Camp. We’ll find a bed for you, and tomorrow we can start looking for another cottage.”

“And have everyone say I was frightened away?” Miss Meadows reproved her niece. “The very idea!”

“You mean you’re willing to stay?”

“Yes, I intend to,” Miss Meadows announced firmly. “At least for a day or so.”

“I’ll remain with you,” Judy offered. “Not that I’ll be any protection.”

To her surprise, Miss Meadows turned her aside. “No,” she told Judy, “you’ve already lost a great deal of camp fun on my account. You’re not to worry about me any more, or Calico Cottage.”

“But to leave you alone--”

“I’ll manage,” Miss Meadows said dryly. “Let’s go upstairs now, or you girls will miss your station wagon.”

“Goodness, I forgot about the driver calling for us!” Kathleen exclaimed. “We’ve been down here in the cellar quite a while.”

Hastily, the three ascended to the main floor of the cottage. Miss Meadows locked the cellar door and replaced the key on the cupboard shelf.

“I intend to forget about those stupid noises,” she asserted. “It will take a very powerful ghost indeed to dislodge me from my bed tonight.”

Greatly relieved that her aunt was taking such a matter-of-fact view of an unpleasant situation, Judy said no more about the disturbances. She and Kathleen began to watch for the camp station wagon, and ten minutes later, saw its headlights wink in signal from the main road.

“Goodbye, Aunt Mattie,” Judy said, giving her a hasty peck on the cheek. “If anything should go wrong tonight, you’ll call me at Pine Cone Camp?”

“I’ll call the police,” Miss Meadows threatened. “Now run along, and enjoy yourselves.”

Enroute back to camp, Judy and Kathleen did not report their experience at Calico Cottage. During the drive up the mountain, they were somewhat silent, but the others took it for granted that the two girls were worn out from the day’s hike.

In truth, Judy was very tired. Even before the “lights out” signal, she was snug in her cot, with the warm blankets tucked around her ears.

“I feel as if I could sleep until noon tomorrow,” she murmured drowsily. “Is there any law, I wonder, about skipping breakfast, and staying in bed?”

If there was an answer to her question, Judy did not hear it. She fell into a sound slumber, lulled by the chirp of crickets.

Sometime toward morning, Judy began to dream. A confusion of images flitted through her mind. She thought she was exploring a cave, that the White Witch had come alive and was advancing toward her in a menacing manner.

In her dream, she became aware of a horrible odor. The scent enveloped her, stifling her so that she could not breathe.

Awakening, Judy found herself battling the blankets which she had pulled up over her head. She laughed in relief. The White Witch was only a nightmare! There was no disagreeable odor--or was there?

Thrusting the covers aside, Judy sat up in bed. Fearfully, she sniffed the air. The odor had not been entirely in her dream! The air was chilly, filled with an acrid scent she could not identify immediately.

Then suddenly, Judy knew. She bolted out of bed, the cold chills racing down her spine. The tent was filled with smoke! The camp must be afire!

_Chapter 17_

SMOKE IN THE WOODS

Thoroughly alert now, Judy awakened her tent mates, warning them of the danger.

“What’s this?” mumbled Ardeth, drugged by sleep and unwilling to leave her comfortable cot.

“Get out of here fast, unless you want to be burned!” Judy said tersely, giving her a hard shake. “The forest is on fire!”

The other Beaver Patrol Scouts who shared the tent, already were out of bed and dressing with frenzied haste. Judy pulled on her own clothes, aware that more and more smoke was swirling about the canvas shelter.

Once outside, she saw the source of the fire. Heavy black smoke was billowing toward the camp from the woods where duff and debris were ablaze.

Judy’s first moment of relief that camp buildings and tents were intact, gave way to concern. The surface fire was dangerously close. Fed by a light but steady wind, the flames were moving toward the camp with amazing speed!

As she started for the adjoining tents to awaken the girls there, a gong in the main dining room sounded the first alarm.

Bong! Bong! Bong!

Tent flaps went apart, and sleep-eyed Scouts began to thrust tousled heads out into the cold night air.

“What’s up?” demanded Beverly, one of the first Beaver Patrol girls to scramble into her clothes. “Is the camp afire?”

“Not yet, but it will be if we don’t work fast!” Judy asserted. “Oh!”

She uttered a little scream as a flying brand, borne by the wind, dropped in the grass only a few feet away.

Badly frightened, she and Beverly ran to stamp out the tiny flames.

By this time, the camp was in confusion. Scouts were pouring out of their tents, milling about, chattering excitedly.

Unit leaders quickly gained control of the situation, ordering everyone to the main lodge assembly room.

Miss Lubell spoke tersely to the girls.

“Now there is no cause for alarm,” she advised everyone. “The fire is very close to our camp, and the wind is in this direction, but rangers are on their way here. I notified them by telephone. The fire already had been spotted from the observation tower.”

“Will we have to evacuate the camp?” inquired Miss Ward.

“That depends entirely upon whether or not the fire quickly can be brought under control,” the camp director replied. “So far, it is not wide-spread, but the head is moving in this direction.”

“Can’t we do anything until the rangers come?” Judy interposed.

“We can,” Miss Lubell said. “We can’t hope to fight the fire, but we can take steps to keep it under control. Each unit is to report to its leader and follow her orders. We’ll wet down the tents and the buildings to protect them from flying sparks. Then we’ll make a fire break by clearing a ditch ahead of the spreading flames!”

Pouring out of the assembly hall, the Beaver Patrol Scouts clustered about their unit leader and Miss Ward. Under direction, they carried buckets of water from the lake, dousing the walls of their tents thoroughly.

To be prepared for a quick evacuation, in the event one was ordered, they hastily tossed their belongings into suitcases.

This done, they raced to the edge of the camp, to assist counselors, who frantically had started to dig a shallow trench or fire break.

Using garden hoes, rakes, spades and other implements at hand, the Scouts rapidly cleared a band several feet wide between the camp and the spreading ground fire.

A few sparks were flying, but those which dropped in dry grass, instantly were extinguished by a unit assigned to that particular task.

By this time, the wind had spread the fire into an elliptical shape. Inexorably, it crept nearer and nearer the trench the girls were digging.

“It’s going to be nip and tuck to save the camp,” Miss Lubell gasped. “Don’t give up, girls!”

Against the flames, trees were silhouetted as dark, towering shapes. The sight was a terrifying one. But even though they could feel the heat in their faces, the Scouts kept doggedly at work.

Then suddenly a cry went up.

“The rangers!” cried a Lone Tree Scout. “They’ve come!”

Judy drew a deep, tired sigh of relief as she saw the Forest Service truck roll in with fire-fighting equipment.

“Our job is done now,” Miss Lubell said, wiping a smudge from her cheek. “We’ll let the men take over. Everyone report in the assembly room.”

The Scouts all checked in, and after washing up, watched the crew of rangers attack the fire.

A tractor widened and completed the ditch started by the Scouts. This task accomplished, rangers beat out some of the flames which had jumped the “break,” and hooked up a power pump.

Sleep was out of the question for the excited Scouts. They kept in orderly groups, but remained at the assembly room windows, watching every phase of the efficient fire fighting work.

The Beaver Patrol girls, those of the Lone Tree unit, and the Oriole outfit, volunteered to help in the kitchen. Gallons of coffee were prepared for the rangers.

“We’ve made enough for an army of workers!” Judy laughed.

The beverage was kept hot, ready to serve whenever a tired fire fighter could leave his post.

By four o’clock, the rangers announced that the fire finally was under complete control. Relaxing a bit from their arduous labors, the men took turns dropping around at the kitchen for coffee and a sandwich.

Arthur Wentz, one of the first rangers to come, praised the Scouts warmly for their well organized efforts prior to the arrival of the forest service truck.

“This could have been a bad fire,” he remarked. “There are three types--surface, ground and crown. But all start as surface fires.”

Judy asked the ranger to distinguish between the different classifications.

“Surface fires, as the name implies, burn only the loose debris on top of the ground,” he explained. “That’s the type of thing we encountered here. Sometimes, the fire eats down into the layer of undecomposed material on the forest floor, and then you have a ground fire. The most difficult of all are those which spread into the trees, or the crown fires.”

“How do you suppose this one started?” Miss Ward asked the ranger.

“That’s hard to say,” he replied.

Lowell Diethelm, the ranger Judy had met in the village the previous evening, now tramped into the kitchen. He had overheard Miss Ward’s question and the reply.

“It’s plain enough how the fire started,” he commented, pouring himself a mug of coffee.

“How?” Judy asked.

“Someone from this camp has been careless about fire.”

A stunned silence followed the observation. Then, almost as a unit, the Girl Scouts began to protest.

“I don’t think that’s fair to say!” exclaimed Kathleen indignantly. “Do you have any proof that the fire was started by anyone in this camp?”

“No proof,” the ranger admitted. “Just circumstantial evidence. You girls had a cook-out last night?”

“We started a fire at Fountain Falls,” Judy said. “You knew about that. We put it out too!”

“Anyway, that’s miles from here!” Betty Bashe broke in. “This fire started close to our camp.”

“Exactly my point,” replied Diethelm. “Any other cook-outs last night?”

“Our unit had one,” spoke up a Scout from the Lone Tree patrol. “We were accompanied by our leaders though, and built our fire on a rock. Every spark was extinguished before we left the spot.”

“That’s what you thought,” Diethelm said, none too pleasantly. “I’m not saying the Scouts started this fire, but I do say, it looks rather suspicious. If the fire hadn’t been reported so quickly, the entire camp might have burned.”

“That’s for sure,” agreed Arthur Wentz. “But I think you’re being unjust to the girls, Lowell. The fire may have been started by a carelessly dropped cigarette or a match. Or it could have been deliberately set.”

“What’s that?” Diethelm demanded, startled.

“Just a little thought I had,” Wentz replied with an odd smile.

Diethelm seemed to have been made uncomfortable by the remark and pursued the subject no further. He gulped down his coffee and soon left the kitchen.

“Don’t take what he said too seriously,” Wentz told the Scouts. “This camp has a good record. No one knows how the fire started.”

“I can assure you that it was not touched off by any of our girls,” asserted Miss Lubell firmly. “We’ve taken every precaution against fire.”

Although heavy smoke still hung over the camp area, the flames no longer were spreading. A ranger was assigned to remain behind to watch the smoldering debris. The others loaded their truck and presently drove away.

Worn out by their strenuous activities, the Scouts returned to their cots to try to snatch a few winks of sleep before dawn. Their eyes smarted, but tired as they were, they were too excited to relax. Most of the girls were relieved when the gong sounded as a signal for them to dress again and assemble for breakfast.

Great quantities of hot chocolate, scrambled eggs, toast and fruit, brought cheer to the Scouts. Nevertheless, the main topic at the table was the unjust accusation which Lowell Diethelm had leveled at the organization.

“I’ve never liked that ranger,” Judy remarked to Virginia, who sat beside her. “I guess it’s mean to say, because a Girl Scout should try to like folks, but there’s something about him--”

“I know what you mean,” nodded Virginia, reaching for another piece of toast. “He doesn’t seem friendly as the other rangers do.”

“I can’t get over what happened today about that trucker,” Judy went on, thinking aloud. “Suppose I was right, and Diethelm was mistaken--”

She broke off then, for Miss Ward had come into the dining hall, and was signaling to her.

“Judy, you’re wanted at the telephone,” the teacher called. “Your aunt, I think.”

Judy went quickly to Miss Lubell’s office. The call must be important, she reasoned, else her aunt would not have phoned at such an early morning hour. She was afraid Aunt Mattie had learned of the fire and was alarmed for her safety. Either that, or the ghost of Calico Cottage had put in another appearance!

As she took down the receiver, her first fears were confirmed. Miss Meadows was in a great state of agitation, having been informed that a fire was raging at Pine Cone Camp.

“It was only a little fire, and it never reached our camp,” Judy explained patiently. “Now don’t worry one tiny bit, Aunt Mattie! Everything is all right here.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Miss Meadows sighed. “I confess, I’ve spent a dreadful night.”

“No more disturbances, I hope.”

“It depends upon what you mean by disturbances,” Miss Meadows returned stiffly. “There were no weird sounds from the basement. But other things happened.”

“What sort of things?”

“I can’t tell you over the telephone,” Miss Meadows answered. “Just come as quickly as you can to the cottage!”

And with that, she hung up the receiver.

_Chapter 18_

AN URGENT CALL

It was well after seven o’clock when Judy, accompanied by Kathleen, arrived at Calico Cottage.

The trip down the mountain in the station wagon had not been without excitement. Less than a half mile from the cottage, the driver had been halted by state patrolmen, who had set up a road block.

At first, the girls had assumed that motorists on the main highway were being stopped because of the fire which still smoldered in the Pine Cone Camp area. Therefore, it came as a surprise to learn that the road block had been set up for an entirely different purpose.

The state highway patrolman informed them that a truckload of auto parts had been hi-jacked during the night on a lonely stretch of road between the towns of Silverton and Grove City, some miles away. The truck was known to have followed the mountain road, making for the state line, yet had seemed to disappear into thin air.

“Somehow those birds get wind of where our road blocks are set up,” the highway patrolman had said. “The hi-jackers have a hide-out. When we’re not on their trail, they slip off the road somewhere and wait until the coast is clear.”

The bold tactics of the hi-jackers were of intense interest to the girls because of their own meeting with two of the men believed to be members of the gang.

Nor had Judy erased from her mind the fact that only a few hours earlier, she had seen the man she believed to be Joe Pompilli.

She was reflecting upon the matter as the station wagon driver let the girls off at Calico Cottage. Why, she wondered, had Lowell Diethelm been so certain that she was mistaken in the identification?

“He seemed honest enough in thinking that the man was a regular trucker on the road,” she thought. “But if I were right, and Diethelm made a mistake--”

Her reflections were interrupted by Kathleen, who nudged her in the ribs.

“Why so sober, Judy?”

“I was just speculating on those hi-jackers, Kathy,” Judy replied as they started across the dew-laden lawn. “I’m more than half convinced that we made a bad mistake last night.”

“You think we let Joe Pompilli get away?”

“We must have. Kathy, he and that other fellow we didn’t know, may have been killing time at the restaurant, waiting for that truckload of auto parts to go through town! Then, they merely followed, and picked the truck off at a convenient spot on the road.”

“That makes a nice sounding explanation,” Kathleen chuckled. “But there’s one bad flaw in your reasoning.”

“Two of ’em,” Judy admitted with a grin. “First, it doesn’t seem logical that Joe Pompilli would dare show up in this area when he must know that state highway patrolmen are on the alert.”

“He was badly hurt in that accident too,” Kathleen added.

“Maybe not as seriously as we thought. The other defect in my theory is that Lowell Diethelm positively identified him as a regular trucker on the road.”

“That’s the part one can’t get around,” Kathleen nodded soberly. “Either the patrolmen made a mistake in identifying an ordinary trucker as Joe Pompilli, or Lowell Diethelm has been misled.”

“In either case, I guess it’s too late for us to do anything about it now,” Judy admitted. “We had our chance, and we muffed it.”

Walking carefully so that they would not soak their shoes with the heavy dew, the girls tramped across the lawn to the back door of Calico Cottage.

Miss Meadows, who had seen them coming, flung open the door.

“I’m ashamed to have telephoned you,” she apologized. “Have you had breakfast?”

“An early one,” Judy replied as she and Kathleen entered the warm kitchen. “If those are muffins I smell, we can eat another one though!”

“Blueberry muffins,” Miss Meadows smiled, peeping into the oven. “You arrived at just the right time, for they’ll be done in three minutes.”

“Aunt Mattie, why did you send such an urgent telephone message?” Judy asked abruptly. “You said it wasn’t the ghost again.”

“No, the basement was quiet enough last night.”

“Then what did happen?”

“I know you think I’m nervous and silly--”

“No such thing, Aunt Mattie.”

“It was those lights that bothered me again. Now that it’s morning, I feel much better about it. But last night, and until after I telephoned, I felt so jittery.”

“Lights on the private road?” Judy questioned.

Miss Meadows did not answer until after she had removed the muffins from the oven. Then she said:

“I awoke about two o’clock, I’d judge. I can’t explain it, but I had a strong feeling that something was wrong. I lay there in bed for awhile, listening. I could hear the muffled rumble of a big truck engine.”

“Nothing so unusual about that, Aunt Mattie. A great many trucks pass on the main highway, even at night.”

“This truck didn’t pass,” Miss Meadows said impressively. “I saw the lights flash past my bedroom window. Because I was nervous and couldn’t sleep, I got up and looked out. I saw the truck stop, and the lights went off. Then the truck turned down that old road.”

Judy and Kathleen had listened attentively to Miss Meadows’ account. They exchanged a quick glance but remained silent.

“I suppose there’s no occasion to be bothered about a truck turning down a private road,” Judy’s aunt chattered on. “It shouldn’t worry me, I know. But I kept imagining all sorts of things, wondering if those men might be hi-jackers.”

“Aunt Mattie, we don’t consider you one bit silly to be nervous about it,” Judy said quickly. “You didn’t telephone the state highway patrol?”

“No, I thought of it, but after all, I didn’t know but what the trucks had a right to be on that road. It could have been loggers?”

“How long did the truck remain on the private road?” Judy asked.

“So far as I know, it’s still there. I set up and watched until dawn. Since then, I’ve been rather busy.”

“If the truck is still on that road, we should check--” Kathleen suggested quickly.

“I think we should,” Miss Meadows agreed. “I’d have done it myself, only to tell you the truth, I was afraid to go alone.”

“Who wouldn’t be?” Judy backed her up. “When do we start? Right now?”

“No, finish your breakfast first,” Miss Meadows urged. “Such nice muffins shouldn’t be wasted.”

Their thoughts on the investigation before them, Judy and Kathleen ate quickly. Miss Meadows apologized for not having any milk to offer.

“I ran out yesterday,” she remarked, “and the new milkman always comes very late.”

“The new milkman?” Judy repeated, nearly dropping her knife. “What became of Bart?”

“I understand he’s given up his job. The new man told me that Bart quit because of something special he wanted to do before the start of college.”

“Something special,” mused Judy. “You know what I think! Bart quit so he could thoroughly explore Calico Cave!”

“Oh, dear, I hope not,” Miss Meadows murmured. “That sounds frightfully dangerous. You don’t think he’d explore very far alone?”

“I certainly do,” replied Judy. “From the little Bart said to me, I’m sure he hopes to solve the mystery of what became of his father. To do that, he’d have to brave the siphon.”

“Gracious! I never heard of anything so reckless!” Miss Meadows gasped. “Why, the authorities shouldn’t allow it!”

“I don’t imagine Bart told anyone of his plan,” Judy answered. “He’s thoroughly familiar with the cave, and it would be safe enough for him to explore, providing he didn’t try to go through the siphon.”

“Just what is a siphon?” Kathleen inquired.

“As I understand it, a siphon is a tunnel through the cave, with a submerged ceiling. If one were a good swimmer, as Bart apparently is, one might dive and swim through it to open air on the other side.”

“That’s assuming that the tunnel wasn’t very long,” Miss Meadows commented.

“True,” Judy nodded. “It would be a terrifying experience. Only a very courageous and foolhardy explorer would attempt it.”

“Bart’s just the type to risk it!” Kathleen asserted. “I wonder when he plans to tackle the siphon?”

“From what the new milkman told me, he may be in the cave even now!” Miss Meadows said with a shudder. “The mere thought of it frightens me.”

“Bart knows how to take care of himself,” Judy declared to relieve her aunt’s mind somewhat. “I’m sure he does.”

Breakfast over, Miss Meadows hastily cleared away the few dishes which had been used. She refused to let the girls wash them, insisting that she would stack them in the sink for a good soaking.

“Let’s explore the road to the cave now,” she urged. “I’ll feel much better if I satisfy myself that everything is all right.”

“We could call the Forest Service or one of the state highway patrolmen, if you’d rather,” Kathleen proposed.

“If the truck shouldn’t be there, or if it had a right to be, I’d never live down the mistake I’d made,” Miss Meadows said. “No, I’d prefer to do a bit of checking for myself first.”

She put on her heavy jacket as protection against the morning chill, and locked all the doors. The three then crossed the main highway and turned down the narrow rutty dirt road.

The sun was showing itself through the tall trees, as the explorers made their way down the steep slope. Almost at once, Miss Meadows triumphantly pointed to heavy tire tracks on the roadbed.

“See, I was right!” she exclaimed. “Those tire marks show that a big truck went down this road last night.”

“Apparently only in one direction too,” Judy agreed. “This road dead-ends, so either the truck had to turn around and come back, or it’s still down there somewhere.”

Quickening their pace, but becoming very quiet, the three moved on.

Presently they came to the end of the road.

“No truck here!” Kathleen exclaimed, halting.

“Here’s where it made a turn,” Judy said, pointing to deep tire marks in the road and grass.

Then she saw the truck itself. It had been driven entirely off the road and parked in a thick clump of bushes behind a shield of trees. Even so, the massive vehicle was only partially hidden from view.

While Kathleen and Miss Meadows waited tensely, Judy cautiously crept through the bushes to obtain a closer glimpse of the big truck.

The cab was deserted. Had the truck run out of gas perhaps, or was it being hidden there to escape detection?

Judy was quite certain she knew the answer, but to confirm her suspicions, she circled the transport. At the rear, she tried the big double doors which gave access to the cargo. They were locked.

Unable to learn more, she returned to report to her aunt and Kathleen.

“I’m convinced this is the truck that the highway patrolmen want to stop,” she informed them. “After the road blocks have been removed, the hi-jackers may be able to slip out of here and get safely away!”

“Oh, no, they won’t!” announced Miss Meadows with grim determination. “We’ll tip off the state highway headquarters! I’ll telephone.”

“Someone should stay here to keep watch,” Judy said. “The driver may return at any minute and try to pull out.”

“That’s so,” Miss Meadows agreed. “I--I guess I’d better stay, while you girls telephone.”

“No, you go to Calico Cottage,” Judy urged. “Kathleen and I will wait here.”

“You’re not afraid?”

“No, you’ll have help here in just a few minutes.”

“I’ll hurry as fast as I can,” Miss Meadows promised, starting away. “Get into the bushes, and keep out of sight until I’m back here with the law!”

_Chapter 19_

THE HIDE-OUT

Left alone, Judy and Kathleen crept into the thicket at the left hand side of the road. The air was damp and chilly and leaves dripped moisture. In a very few minutes, the girls began to weary of crouching in such uncomfortable positions.

“That truck driver must have skipped out,” Kathleen muttered. “It’s sort of silly to hide here.”

“I don’t think so,” Judy replied, keeping her voice low.

“I wish we knew where the driver went.” Disregarding caution, Kathleen straightened up from her crouched position and carefully looked about.

She could see a portion of the trail which led toward Calico Cave. As she stood thus, a little dog came into view, trotting from the direction of the cavern.

“Why, it’s Pete!” Kathleen exclaimed, speaking much louder than she had intended. “Do you suppose Bart is somewhere near, or in the cave?”

“He must be,” Judy agreed. She added in warning: “But do quiet down. If we keep sounding off, we’ll give our hiding place away to anyone who comes along.”

“Pete is onto it now!” Kathleen agreed in dismay.

The little dog had halted alertly on the trail. After sniffing the air, he left the path and came directly over to the bushes where the two girls had taken shelter.

To their consternation, he began to bark and to jerk his head, as if inviting them to follow him to the cave.

Judy seized the little dog, and tightly held his jaws so that he could not bark.

“This is a fine howdy-do!” she muttered. “Pete will give us away if anyone is within a mile of here!”

“Do you suppose Bart could be close?” Kathleen speculated. “Pete plainly is trying to get us to follow him to the cave.”

“If we let him go, he’ll set up a fearful clatter. I can’t hold his jaws together forever either!”

“Bart would be a big help to us if we could find him.”

“We could see if he’s at the cave entrance,” Judy said reluctantly. “I don’t think we’ll find him though, and we’d be leaving a good hiding place.”

“We can be careful,” Kathleen returned. “Help from the Forest Service or highway headquarters should be coming quite soon.”

Allowing herself to be persuaded, Judy followed Kathleen from the leafy shelter. She kept tight hold of Pete however, not allowing him to bark or scramble out of her arms.

The rocky path wound through the trees and around big boulders. Presently, the girls were within view of the dark entranceway to the cave.

Judy halted, thinking that she saw a tiny wisp of smoke emerging from the cavern. In that moment of inattention, Pete made a convulsive movement and before she could regain her grip, leaped to the ground.

Yipping excitedly, he ran toward the cave entrance.

With a gasp of dismay, Judy thrust Kathleen back into a thicket, and herself crouched behind a rock.

It was well that the girls took refuge, for Pete’s loud barking had not gone unheard.

A dark figure appeared silhouetted in the opening of the cave. Judy could not see the face of the heavy-set man, but she knew instantly from his build that he was not Bart Ranieau.

“There’s that confounded mutt again!” the girls heard the man exclaim. “He’ll give us away!”

“Slug him with a rock!” came advice from inside the cave.

The man in the entranceway, heaved a stone which missed its mark by mere inches. Pete barked the louder.

“Put a bullet through him,” was the next gruff advice.

“Don’t dare,” the girls heard the reply. “A shot would be heard too far.”

“If we don’t get out of this hole pretty soon, that dog will have the whole town down on us,” the other growled. “Quiet him somehow.”

“Don’t pay any attention to him and he’ll shut up,” the first man said. “If we can coax him in here, I’ll wring his neck!”

Pete did stop barking after a few more excited yips, but canine caution kept him from going closer to the cave. In vain the two men tried to coax him into the cavern. Pete lay flat on his belly on the path and whined.

Finally, they abandoned the effort to get him inside, and themselves moved back out of view in the darkness.

For a long while, Judy and Kathleen remained motionless, afraid to stir lest they disclose their presence. Both were convinced that the two men in the cave were the hi-jackers, and that they merely were waiting there until they safely could move out their truck and stolen cargo.

“We can’t stay here,” Judy finally whispered to her chum. “Let’s make a break for it. If we’re seen, we’ll have to run for our lives.”

Moving stealthily, the girls slipped from their hiding place.

Pete saw them go and cocked his head attentively. But to their intense relief, he did not bark or try to follow them.

Safely, the girls retraced their way to the private road.

Once there, Judy anxiously looked up the slope for a glimpse of her aunt or the assistance which she hoped would come.

“I guess we’ll have to hide in the bushes again,” Kathleen proposed. “Pete may ferret us out too.”

As the girls debated what action to take, Judy saw that a green coupe had turned down the private road.

“A Forest Service car!” she exclaimed, over-joyed. “Good Aunt Mattie! She must have put through a fast telephone call to the ranger station. Our troubles are over!”

“I thought your aunt intended to call the highway patrol headquarters,” Kathleen commented, watching the approaching car with troubled eyes.

“Maybe she called ’em both. At any rate, a forest ranger is just what the doctor ordered!”

Judy rushed out to meet the approaching automobile, waving her arms to attract attention.

The car drew up with a slight squeak of brakes. Judy saw then that the driver was Lowell Diethelm, and he seemed as surprised to see her and Kathleen as they were to encounter him on the lonely road.

“Did Aunt Mattie reach you?” Judy demanded.

The ranger’s startled expression disclosed that he did not know what she was talking about.

“I guess Aunt Mattie hasn’t had time to get word through,” Judy went on. “Anyway, you’re here in time to nab those hi-jackers!”

She and Kathleen then breathlessly told of their suspicions, and pointed out the big truck which had been hidden in the thicket.

In their anxiety to tell the story clearly and fast, neither girl noticed that Diethelm was watching them in an odd sort of way, but not asking many questions.

When Judy finally ran out of breath, the ranger motioned for the two girls to get into the coupe.

“But aren’t you going to do anything about it?” Judy demanded. “Don’t you intend to find out if those men hiding in the cave are hi-jackers?”

“Sure, I intend to do something about it,” Diethelm drawled, “but I’m not foolhardy. We’re up against a tough gang. There may be shooting. I need reenforcements.”

“I guess that’s right,” Judy agreed. Her gaze fell upon the radio equipment in the ranger’s car. “Couldn’t you call the ranger station?”

“Sure,” Diethelm said again. “Sure. Come on, get in, and I’ll take care of it.”

Judy and Kathleen obeyed, sliding in beside the ranger. He turned the car around in the narrow roadway, heading it toward the main highway.

“I’ll drive you up the hill,” he said. “It’s safer that way. Then if there should be shooting, you’ll be all right.”

“Can’t we get word to the ranger station right away?” Judy urged again. “Those men may decide to try to pull out of here any minute.”

“Take it easy,” Diethelm advised. “Let me handle this, will you?”

“Sorry,” Judy mumbled. “I didn’t mean to suggest--only--”

“Only what?”

“Nothing,” Judy replied shortly.

Diethelm reached across, snapping a lock on the door of the coupe. The gesture seemed careless enough. Yet, why should he have reason to lock the automobile? Judy, suddenly uneasy, glanced at Kathleen and saw that her chum looked frightened.

“So your aunt is telephoning the state highway patrol station?” the ranger remarked easily. “How long ago was that?”

“Five--maybe ten minutes ago,” Judy answered. She was trying hard to smother the suspicion which had formed in her mind.

“Your aunt went to the cottage to phone?”

“Yes.” Judy hesitated and then said earnestly: “Won’t you please call ranger headquarters now on your radio telephone? It’s important to get help fast. Aunt Mattie may have failed to get her call through.”

Diethelm smiled and flipped a switch on the radio. He fumbled with it as he drove efficiently with one hand.

“Car 23 to Headquarters. Car 23 to Headquarters,” he called.

“Go ahead, Diethelm,” came the order from headquarters.

“Nothing to report, sir. No fires sighted.”

“Any sign of the hi-jackers? They’re reported to have headed into your patrol area.”

Diethelm spoke clearly and in a detached manner. “No sign of ’em anywhere,” he replied. “Inform the highway patrol, they may as well lift the road block. That’s right, sir. I’ve checked the area thoroughly. No sign of ’em.”

_Chapter 20_

TREACHERY

Judy and Kathleen scarcely could believe that they had heard the ranger’s radio message correctly.

For a stunned moment, they sat in dead silence, unable to comprehend what had transpired.

Diethelm wore the inconspicuous pine tree badge of the forest rangers, but he had never seemed friendly or helpful as had the other Forest Service men.

Judy had sensed the man’s antagonism almost from the first moment of their meeting. Until this night, however, she had never actually distrusted him.

Now, as the meaning of his message to headquarters penetrated her brain, she realized that he deliberately had given false information to his superior officers. Information which would aid the hi-jackers, who awaited the lifting of the road block to rush their stolen cargo across the state line!

As the car climbed the steep incline, Kathleen suddenly reached for the door handle.

“I wouldn’t do that!” Diethelm ordered sharply. “Stay in this car!”

“You’re making us prisoners?” Kathleen gasped, shaken by the ranger’s treachery.