"Sure I'll get him!" promised Chot. "He'll come. Now come on! Let's hurry back home and get the things."

They started on their way, down the now almost dark road, and then Rick happened to think of something.

"S'posin' the junk man and the sailor come back while we're gone?" he asked. "Then how we going to get Ruddy?"

"I didn't think of that," admitted Chot. "Let's see," he said, musingly. "We pa.s.sed a house a ways back, just before we saw this cabin.

We could stop there and ask 'em to sort of keep an eye on this shack until we get back."

"Yes, we could do that," agreed Rick. "But it's going to take us a long time to go home and come back."

"Oh, maybe we'll get a lift," suggested Chot, always a hopeful sort of chap.

They had better luck than they expected. At the nearest house to the log cabin, where they stopped, they told their story of how they were searching for Ruddy. The place was a farm, and a boy who lived there belonged to the Scouts, though not to the same troop of which Chot was a member.

"I'll go down and keep watch on the place 'till you get back," offered this boy. "And I'll stay with you all night, if dad'll let me."

"That's fine!" exclaimed Rick and his chums echoed this sentiment.

And they had not finished talking about this before the farmer, who had heard their story, not only gave permission for his son to help, and aid in standing guard through the night, but also offered to run Rick, Chot and Tom over to Belemere in his auto.

"I'll bring you back, too!" he said.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll find Ruddy now!" declared Rick, who was both excited and delighted.

There was some more excitement when he reached home. His parents were beginning to be alarmed about him. But he quickly told what had happened, and as the Scout Master, summoned by Chot over the telephone, agreed to accompany the boys back to the cabin, Rick was allowed to go with them.

"Oh, I do hope he'll be all right!" said his mother. "He's never been away from home like this before!"

"It will do him good, and we can safely trust him with the Scout Master," said Mr. Dalton.

"Oh! oh!" Mazie had exclaimed when she heard the plans. "Are you going to sleep in the cabin all night, Rick?"

"Well, I won't sleep _all_ night," he answered, as he rolled up his blankets and took his bundle of food. "We got to stay on watch, some of us, to catch the junk man, or the sailor, if he comes back with the junk fellow, to get his horse and wagon. That's how we'll get Ruddy."

"Oh, I want Ruddy! I love him!" said the little girl, and in thinking about the lost dog she did not feel so much fear at having Rick stay away from home over night.

But, even in spite of the confidence Mr. Dalton had in the scout master, Mrs. Dalton was nervous.

"I'll take good care of him--never fear!" Harry Taylor, the Scout Master, promised with a smile, as the boys piled in the auto for the ride back with the farmer. "I won't let him get even the snuffles!"

"That's what I'm afraid of--having him catch cold!" said Rick's mother.

But she wanted her son to be a manly boy, so she let him go. And you may well believe there were joyous hearts in the little party of lads who were on their way to camp in the old log cabin. It was more than a mere camping crowd--they were trying to catch the man who had Rick's dog!

CHAPTER XVII

THE TWO SAILORS

While Rick, his boy chums and the Scout Master were on their way to the old log cabin, there to camp all night, if need be, to wait for the sailor to come back with the dog, poor Ruddy himself was not having a very good time.

He had been lifted out of the junk wagon by Matt Stanton, the ragged sailor who had stolen Ruddy away "for luck," as he called it. And Ruddy was half dragged along the road by a rope the sailor had tied around his neck.

Ruddy growled and whined and whimpered. If he could have talked man-language, instead of only in dog fashion, he would have said:

"Don't you know you are hurting me, pulling me along like this? You are almost choking me! If you won't pull so hard I'll come along just the same. Of course I don't want to come with you, for I don't like you. I like Rick, the boy, best. But you are stronger than I am, and we dogs have to do as our masters want, even if we don't like it. But, oh dear!

how I wish I were back with Rick!"

That is what Ruddy was most likely saying or thinking to himself as the sailor half dragged him along. The junk man, whose name was Ike Stein, walked on ahead, down the road, after having left his horse and wagon near the old cabin.

"Where's this friend of yours, where we're going to stop all night and have something to eat?" grumbled the sailor as he walked along, pulling Ruddy after him. "Where's his shack?"

"Only a little farther now," the junk man answered. "It's down of the road and over by in the woods. You can't of see it from here, but it isn't far."

And, a little later, the junk man left the road, and started down a path that led across the fields toward a clump of woods. As soon as Ruddy saw this path, and smelled the clean smell of woods and leaves, he gave a little joyous bark.

"Here now! What's the matter with you? Keep still!" growled the sailor, pulling on the rope around the dog's neck.

Poor Ruddy's tail dropped and he crouched down, for he feared he was going to be struck. But the sailor was not quite as bad as that. He rather cared for the dog, in a way, though he did not know how to be really kind to animals. Some men and boys are that way, and I am sorry for them. It is wonderful to know how to love animals, and have them care for you.

So the sailor growled and shook his finger at Ruddy to make him keep still, and Ruddy whimpered and did not bark again.

"First thing I know you'll be bringing a crowd around us, and somebody may take you away from me," grumbled the ragged man. "I don't want that.

I don't want to lose my luck again."

And the only reason Ruddy had barked half-joyously when he smelled the woods was that he remembered how he and Rick had used to romp among the trees and dried leaves, having glorious times.

"Come along now!" growled the sailor, and again he jerked on the rope around Ruddy's neck. "How much farther is it?" he asked of the junk man.

"Oh, just a little ways," was the answer. "We'll of come to the house in a minute." He looked behind him, as if to make sure no one was following, and then added in a whisper: "My friend, he lives down in an old house away off in the trees. He doesn't of want anybody to know he's there."

"Oh, I see!" exclaimed the sailor. "Sort of hiding away, is he? Well, I've done that myself."

They walked on a little farther, the sailor still dragging Ruddy along, and at last the two men pushed their way through some bushes and came to an old, tumble-down house, that did not seem a much better place to sleep in than was the old log cabin.

"Here we are," said Ike Stein, the junk man. "Here we are!"

The sailor looked about him, shook his head once or twice, and then said:

"Well, I guess we can stand it here for one night, eh, Ruddy?"

He called the dog the same name as did Rick--the name that just seemed to fit the setter. And Ruddy looked up and wagged his tail just a little, for these were the first kind words the sailor had spoken to him.

"Yes, I guess we can stand it here one night," went on the ragged sailor. "Where's your friend?" he asked the junk man, "and where's something to eat for me, and a bone for my dog?"

"Oh, my friend he will of be right out," promised Ike Stein, rubbing his hands as though giving them a dry wash to get off some of the dirt.