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"Scotty" Allan never failed to give every evidence of his sincere regard, and the Woman had even perpetuated the undesirable association by having Dubby's picture taken with Texas when they were out on one of their daily promenades. And so, admired by men and feared by dogs, the faithful huskie was singularly exempt from the tragedies of a neglected, forlorn old age.
But they probably were stolen during the Viking shoot." "Is the warehouse guarded?" "No. A clerk is on duty at all times when the warehouse is open. At night it's locked. There was no sign of tampering, and anyway, the locks are tamper-proof." Scotty said warningly, "Company coming." Then, in a louder voice, he continued, "Of course we worked for Dr. Zircon."
The boys waited anxiously for some further report, but Barby was only able to say that the old seaman had departed after a ten-minute visit and was now fishing again. At noon Jerry and Scotty slipped out for a sandwich. When they returned, Rick and Duke went to eat. According to Barby, all was quiet.
Hobart is right. This is lead." A call from the water made them look up. Chief Sanders and his diving buddy had surfaced, and they were carrying a statue of St. Francis! Behind them, another pair of frogmen, with still another statue! Within a half hour there were no less than eight identical statues lined up on deck. St. Francis, in lead, repeated eight times. Scotty scratched his head.
It was from the thin, white-faced man who had sat corpse-like on the edge of his bunk the night before. "Divvy h l!" growled the bearded man. "It's up to you you and Scotty. You're to blame!" You're to blame! The words struck upon Roscoe's ears with a chill of horror. He recalled the voice that had suggested throwing him back into the snow. Starvation was in the cabin.
"The men heard it, too, because they ran out right after they tied us up and put that thing on my head. The women guarded us, and one of them had just started the machine running when the plane came right at us. We saw it, through the open door, and we thought you were going to crash!" Rick grinned at Scotty. "That was our fast-acting pal.
Scotty took out his jackknife and probed with the largest blade. Clearly, there was nothing in the basin but a solid rock bottom. The boys' eyes met. "The pool bubbled a little last night," Rick recalled. Scotty nodded. "I saw it, too. But there's nothing there to make it bubble." Jan Miller shuddered. "I almost died when you two idiots scrambled up here. You went right into that awful mist!"
Her reddish colored braids gave her a squaw-like appearance in the darkness. "It's all right, Scotty, don't stir up the community," called Hard, cheerfully. "I'm the guilty party." "You!" "It never dawned on me till I saw the unlocked door," confessed Hard, with a chuckle. "The chap must have found that old bunch of keys that's been knocking around in the pocket of my old office coat.
He scooped up a couple of rocks, hoping no guns were waiting this time. "Hold 'em!" Scotty yelled. "We're coming!" There was a yell in reply. Jerry Webster called, "Watch it! They're running away!" Car headlights switched on, and in their glare Rick saw Jerry pointing. For a moment he considered following his friends' assailants, then abandoned the idea. They could escape easily in the woods.
But our governess hated dogs, and we were expressly forbidden to so much as pat the head of any stray canine that thrust an inquiring nose between the bars of her gate. Therefore, it was with sad foreboding that we watched the bun disappear. The Scotty held it between his forepaws and bit off decent mouthfuls, without sign of greed or haste.
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