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Living, as I had, in a neighborhood where the police, like the poor, are always with us, and where the visits of the patrol wagon are one of those familiar sights that no amount of repetition enabled any of us to treat with contempt, I was uncomfortable until I remembered that my grandfather had been one of the first mayors of the city, and that, if the patrol had been at my house more than once, the entire neighborhood would testify that my boarders were usually orderly.
Witherspoon had been consulting with the leader of the Black Bear Patrol, and evidently they had reached a conclusion, for presently the welcome order was given to turn into the woods, as the day's hike was at an end. Gladly did those tired lads obey the call.
"Then besides our clothes and a blanket, we'll have to carry a cooking outfit, as light as it can be made, and what grub we expect to eat up." "Oh! most of that we'll rustle for on the way," the patrol leader told him. "We'll find farms scattered along our route, and it'll be easy enough to buy eggs, milk, perhaps a home-cured ham, some chickens, and other things like bread and butter."
Still, no wonderfully new ideas seemed to be in evidence; and when the patrol sought the blankets, leaving the camp-fire dying down, they were about evenly divided on the question as to whether the educated tramp keeping company with the foreign owner of the bear was a smart man, or just a scamp. But a night of peace followed all these thrills.
He did as much as he could toward getting supper, and when it grew dark and still they did not return, he clambered up on the cabin roof again and sat there gazing off into the night. But still they did not come. "Gee, I'm a Silver Fox, anyway," he said; "you'd think he'd want one of his own patrol with him sometimes gee!"
Since it chances that the exciting incidents which we have started out to chronicle in the present story fell almost exclusively to the portion of the boys belonging to the original Wolf Patrol, it might be well to give a brief description of who and what they were, before going any further. Elmer Chenowith, being the patrol leader, comes first in line.
Thirty Germans were killed before the Canadians went back, with only two casualties... The Germans were horrified by this sudden slaughter. They dared not come out on patrol work. Canadian scouts crawled down to them and insulted them, ingeniously, vilely, but could get no answer.
Kieran froze under the black trees and the hair lifted on his skin. For the first time he felt like a hunted thing. For the first time he felt a personal anger. The patrol craft drummed away and vanished. "They won't come back until daylight," Webber said. He handed out little flat packets of concentrated food from his pockets. They munched as they walked. Nobody said anything.
"You need not be anxious, I think," said Considine; "if anything very serious had happened, it is likely the patrol who rescued us would have heard some account of it before leaving Grahamstown. "Don't you think?" he added, turning to Hans, "that we had better inquire first at Dobson's place?"
Other footsteps were heard, coming from the other side of the lawn. A man's shod feet rang on the stone of a flagged path, and from their irregular fall it was plain that he was lame. The two men met near the door, and spoke together. Then they separated, and moved one down each side of the house. To the two watchers they had the air of a patrol, or of warders pacing the corridors of a prison.
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