While the boys stood close to the bole of a pine, listening, a shrill, excited voice came to them from some undiscoverable quarter.
At first they could not distinguish the words which were spoken. Jimmie turned to his chum with a half frightened grin on his face.
“Does that sound like bear-talk?” he asked.
“Not a bit of it!” Frank admitted, “but it may be one of the boys playing a joke on us. They are full of such tricks.”
Then the voice came to their ears again, lifted just above the sighing of the pines—sharp, imperative.
The two boys gazed into each other’s faces with wonder in their eyes.
“Can you beat that?” Jimmie asked. “Was that a bear?”
Again the words of warning came to the ears of the amazed boys:
“That sounds like Second avenue!” Jimmie ventured.
Frank turned in the direction from whence the sound had seemed to proceed and called out:
“Be prepared!” was the answer that came back.
“Look here!” Jimmie shouted. “If you’re a Boy Scout, why don’t you come out and show yourself? I never knew a Boy Scout who was ashamed to show his face.”
“What patrol?” came the voice from the thicket.
“Black Bear and Wolf, New York,” Frank answered.
There was a short silence, and then just a whisper came from a point near to where the boys were standing.
“Didn’t I tell you Boy Scouts to beat it?” were the words spoken.
“What’s the difficulty?” asked Jimmie. “Are you trying to make monkeys of us? Why don’t you come out and tell us all about it?”
“It wouldn’t do any good if I did,” answered the mysterious voice. “I tell you to beat it, and that’s the last word you’ll get from me.”
They heard a rustle in the thicket, and, though they listened for a long time, they heard no more words spoken. The boys darted away into the undergrowth in search of the person who had given them so mysterious a warning, but no trace of him could be discovered.
“Now, what did he mean by ‘beat it’?” demanded Jimmie in a moment as the boys met at the tree again.
“He meant for us to make ourselves scarce in this vicinity, I’m afraid,” Frank answered. “Of course we don’t know whether he warned us to keep away from this spot, or whether he advised us to break camp.”
“If he thinks we’re going to break camp on any bum old steer like that,” Jimmie grumbled, “he’s got several more thinks coming.”