"He's most probable of looking at us now from one of the windows."

"Oh, he is, eh? Spying like! Well, I don't see him!" said the sailor glancing from one broken window to another.

"No, Sam doesn't like to be seen until he sees who his company of is.

But he knows me all right. h.e.l.lo, Sam!" he called and a voice answered:

"h.e.l.lo, Ikey!"

Then from the old, ramshackle house there came a man who looked almost like the junk peddler, except that he was not as clean, if such a thing could be, and his beard was longer and blacker.

"Here's a friend of mine, Sam," went on Ikey. "We have come to stay all night and have supper. We'll pay, of course," he added, for he saw that Sam was going to say something.

"Oh, sure you may stay--if you pay!" spoke the man who lived in the tumble-down shack. "Did you bring your horse and wagon?" he asked.

"I left them down the road," answered the junk man. "Now we of are hungry."

"And so is the dog, I expect," growled the sailor. "Give him a bone--Sam."

"A bone? A bone for the dog? It should of cost you five cents, or for a bigger one ten cents," was the answer.

"Well, give Ruddy a ten cent bone!" exclaimed the sailor. "Here's your money," and, dipping his hand down in his ragged trousers, as though he were diving into the water, he fished up a dime, which he threw to the junk man's friend.

The second ragged man--whose name was Sam, went into his house and came out with a bone which he threw down in front of Ruddy, who, by this time, had been tied to a post in the yard.

"Hum!" mumbled the sailor, as he looked at the bone. "It's a good thing I bought a ten cent one. If you'd handed out a fiver there wouldn't have been enough meat on for a spider crab. Well, now the dog's eatin' let's us eat!"

"Right away!" promised Sam, and he led the way into the house.

"Mind you don't try to run away from me again!" growled the sailor, shaking his finger at Ruddy.

The poor dog, smelling a little good meat on the bone, had lain down with it between his fore paws and was gnawing it. He had no intention of running away just then. He was too hungry, and this was his supper. It was not like the good supper he would have had at home in his kennel, where Rick always fed him. But it must answer now.

Sailor Matt Stanton looked around the old ramshackle house as he and the junk man entered. It appeared to be filled with the same sort of trash and odds and ends that Ike gathered in his wagon. Sam Levy was in the junk business also, only he bought the things the other men gathered up in their wagons, and sold them to the larger dealers in bottles, rags and paper. He was a wholesale junk dealer and the others were retailers, you might say.

The three men went to the kitchen of the old house, and Sam began to cook a meal. It was now quite dark, and a lantern hung on the wall did not give a very good light.

Sailor Matt looked about him while waiting for his meal. He saw piles of rags, larger stacks of papers, old pieces of iron, torn automobile tires and other junk.

"I only do a small business," said Sam, looking around from where he was bending over the stove, making some sort of a stew in a broken kettle.

"I only been here a little while. Lots of folks don't know I'm here at all--only my friends, like Iky and you."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "A man came in--a sailor like himself."]

"You needn't call me a friend," growled the sailor. "I ain't friends with n.o.body since I got out of luck losing my dog. Now I have him back maybe I'll get a ship, and start over again."

"Maybe," muttered Sam, "and maybe we should of be friends. If you got anything to sell I gives you a good price."

"I've got nothing to sell, and not much money to buy anything," grumbled the sailor. "But I got enough for a meal. Hurry it up!"

"Sure, it'll be ready in a minute!" promised Sam.

He was stirring the contents of the broken kettle when a step was heard outside. Instantly the three men looked around, and Sam stopped rattling the long-handled spoon.

"Somebody's comin'!" whispered Ike Stein.

Sailor Matt Stanton got up from a pile of rags and started toward the door. As he reached it a man came in; a man who, it could be seen almost at first glance, was a sailor like himself.

"What ho, mate!" cried the newcomer in a jolly voice. "Well, well! To think of finding my old sailing chum here! Shake, Matt! How are you and what's the matter with the dog howling out in the yard?"

He clapped on the back the ragged sailor who had taken Ruddy away from Rick.

"Hush! Not so loud!" exclaimed Sailor Matt, in a hoa.r.s.e whisper. "Keep still, Jed Porter! Keep still!"

"What for?" asked the sailor called Jed. "Why should I keep still?

Anybody would think you were afraid of being found out!" And he laughed heartily, at which sound the junk man quickly pulled down a window while Sam hurried from the stove and shut the door that had been left open.

The two sailors stood looking at one another, while out in the yard poor Ruddy howled and whimpered.

CHAPTER XVIII

SCOUTS ON THE WATCH

"Now, boys!" said Scout Master Harry Taylor, as Rick and the others reached the old log cabin, "if we are going to camp out here and find Ruddy, we must go at it right."

"Can we build a fire and cook things to eat?" asked Rick, as he put on one of the rude bunks the bundle he had brought from home.

"Oh, yes, we'll cook and eat," the Scout Master promised with a smile.

"I guess you haven't done much camping out, Rick," he added.

"No," was the answer. "But I like it, and I'm going to be a Boy Scout after this."

"It's lots of fun!" declared Tom. "Come on, Rick, and help me get wood."

"I'll make up the beds," added Chot.

"And I'll help," said a voice in the door-way of the log cabin. Sam Brown, son of the farmer who had taken the boys to Belemere and brought them back, had come to join the others as he had promised. He was going to do what he could to help get Ruddy back for Rick.

"That's right," said Master Harry Taylor, "each Boy Scout must do his part when camp is to be made."

Several lanterns had been brought with them, and, by the light of one, Rick and Tom gathered some wood outside to make a fire on the hearth.

Chot and Sam did what they could to set the interior of the log cabin to rights, and Mr. Taylor opened the bundles of food and filled the oil stove from a kerosene can he had brought with him.

Each boy had a "mess" outfit, consisting of tin cup and plate, a knife, fork and spoon and a small frying pan. Chot had borrowed an outfit from a boy friend, for Rick, as Ruddy's master, was not yet a Scout.

In a little while a fire was blazing on the hearth, and the steaks which had been brought were being cooked by Mr. Taylor over the hot embers. He decided to do this himself rather than trust the boys, for if the meat were spoiled in the broiling some one would have to go hungry, no extra supply having been provided. The coffee was made on the oil stove.