Pathfinder | Page 4

as they could.
Besides this, they must read the messages left occasionally by their pathfinder.
For quite some time the boys scurried along. More than once they had to quicken their pace to what Matty called a "dog-trot." This happened especially when the "signs" were very plain.
"Why all this haste?" asked Landy, who seemed to be puffing a little, because of his being rather a stout boy, and not very well up in athletics.
"Because we want to gain on Elmer when we have the chance," replied the leader.
"But look here, Matty," said Landy, "do you mean to tell me Elmer is getting along about as fast as we've been doing, when he has a blind trail to follow, and we have a plain one?"
"Looks like it, don't it?" exclaimed Red.
"But how under the sun does he do it?" pursued the doubting greenhorn.
"Well," Matty went on, "Elmer lived in Canada, away up where our blizzards come from. He used to ride a wild broncho, throw a rope, hunt antelope and wolves, and was once in at the death of a big grizzly bear that had been playing hob with their cattle."
"Yes, I've heard all that," admitted Landy.
"So you see he learned a lot about following a trail that would never be seen by any fellows like us scouts. He knows a dozen signs that tell him the facts. And when greenhorns like Ty, Nat, and Toby try to fool him, why, he just eats the trail up."
Matty, as he finished speaking, came to a sudden pause.
"We might as well take a breathing spell," he remarked, "because we're getting pretty close to the meeting place anyhow. Besides, here's a chance for me to show you how Elmer manages."
The others crowded around, eager to see for themselves what object lesson Matty expected to lay before them.
"Now I want you to notice right here," he said, pointing to the ground, "that the footprints of the two boys ahead suddenly stop. Here are the plain marks left purposely by Elmer and Lil Artha. Do you notice how they run alongside this fallen tree?"
"That's a fact," declared George, as all of them walked slowly along.
"The two foxes in the lead thought to puzzle the hounds by jumping on this long log, and running its entire length," said Matty, with a grin, "but they had their trouble for nothing. Why, it was such an old trick that Elmer guessed it at a glance. He must have gained quite a lot on 'em here."
George and Landy exchanged glances.
"Well, there's a heap more in this game than I ever thought of," admitted the latter.
"Don't see how he does it," remarked George, with a doubting shake of his head.
"Oh, the more you study up on this thing," said Red, "the better you'll like it. No end of clever stunts that can be engineered. But see here, Matty, didn't you say we must be getting near the place where we expected to round up both foxes and hounds?"
"Yes, I'm looking to hear the bugle any minute right now," replied the leader.
"Where was it fixed for?" asked Landy.
"Oh, I thought you knew," Matty replied, as they once more took up the broad trail, at the point beyond the end of the fallen tree.
"I heard some talk about an old mill, but didn't pay much attention to it," remarked Landy, carelessly.
"Then you've got to turn over a new leaf, old fellow, if you expect to ever succeed as a good scout," Red broke in with.
"How's that?" demanded Landy.
"Because," replied the red-headed lad, himself always wide-awake and on the alert, "a scout to succeed must forever keep his wits about him and observe things. In fact, Elmer says he should take as a motto, besides the words 'Be Prepared' the old sign you see at railroad crossings."
"Stop! look! listen!" exclaimed Matty, Larry, and Chatz in chorus.
"I suppose I am somewhat sleepy," grumbled Landy, "but perhaps some day I'll surprise you wide-awake Slim Jims by doing something real smart. But tell me more about this mill."
"You sure must have heard of Munsey's mill?" remarked Matty.
"Oh, I believe it does sound kind of familiar, but then I must have forgotten all I ever heard about it," Landy confessed.
Red and Matty exchanged glances, and shook their heads mournfully. It seemed a pretty tough proposition to ever expect to make a good and profitable scout out of such poor material.
"Well," said the patrol leader, "there is a long story connected with the old ramshackle mill. No use of my going into all the details. It's been abandoned a good many years now. People have tried to live there three times since old Munsey was found dead there, but they had to give it up."
"Yes, suh," Chatz broke in, his eyes shining brightly, for this was a subject that appealed very