The Ranger Boys Outwit the Timber Thieves.

by Claude A. Labelle.

CHAPTER I

THE START OF NEW ADVENTURES

"Bangor, Bangor, all change for Portland, Boston and way stations,"

shouted the trainman.

"Here we are, boys," shouted Garry Boone. "Wake up, d.i.c.k, let's get our packs and rifles. We will be in the station in a few seconds now. My, but I'll be glad to see Dad again. And he promises us some real action, too. I wonder what trouble he is in. You remember he hinted at something of the sort in the letter that he wrote us at Hobart."

"Well, we'll know in a few minutes now, for your father will be waiting for us at the Bangor House. Don't fret over what he wants, Garry, just be glad that we have a chance to get into action of some kind. These past few weeks have gotten me so that I am not happy if we don't have a few sc.r.a.pes to get in and out of," remarked the second of the trio of boys.

d.i.c.k Wallace, a plump, heavyset chap, yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and then got up and stretched his cramped limbs. He had been napping for more than an hour.

At that moment the train drew into the station with a screeching of brakes, and the boys, having dug out their knapsacks and rifles from between the seats where they had stowed them, soon were off the train and walking briskly toward the Bangor House.

"Why not take a car, there ought to be one along in a minute or two,"

half grumbled d.i.c.k. It must be explained that d.i.c.k, because of his weight, took the easiest method of doing anything whenever possible.

This does not mean that he ever shirked his duty, or that he was incapable of walking whenever he had to. As a matter of fact, he had made long hikes in the woods without ever batting an eyelash, but he believed in doing such things only when they were necessary.

"Trust d.i.c.k to want a street car and something to eat the minute he gets to a city," laughed Garry.

"Yes, I bet he is starving right now," jibed Phil Durant. "All he has had to eat since lunchtime is an apple, three bananas, and I don't know how many bags of peanuts. If the train boy hadn't made a sale all the afternoon except to d.i.c.k he would have made a day's pay anyway."

"That reminds me that it is almost supper time now," said d.i.c.k. He had heard his chums rag him so many times about his appet.i.te, that their remarks rolled off him as does water off a duck's back. "I move we postpone hearing what Dad Boone has to tell us until after we have eaten. Then he can tell us what he wants, and after that perhaps we can all go to a movie show."

There was no car in sight, so they continued their walk, and soon were at the doors of the Bangor House, a large, well-appointed hotel. The boys cut a strange figure as they walked through the lobby, for they were clad in broad brimmed Stetson army hats, khaki coats cut like hunters' jackets, with big roomy pockets, and khaki trousers stuffed into the tops of shoepacks, which are nothing more than heavy moccasins with an extra leather sole.

Each boy carried a knapsack on his back, and attached to this was a lariat. In addition, a stout forest hatchet was thrust through the belt that girdled them, and each boy carried a rifle.

Many curious looks were cast in their direction as they walked to the desk where Garry asked if Mr. Boone was registered there.

In a few moments the clerk had telephoned up to Garry's father and immediately was told to send the boys up. Following in the wake of the bell boy they ascended to the room, where Mr. Boone was waiting.

He greeted the boys heartily and commented on their healthy appearance, for the sun and open air had made them as tanned as any woodsman.

Greetings over, Mr. Boone remarked:

"Before I tell you boys why I have sent for you, I suggest that we get our dinner and then come back to the room."

"Welcome words!" uttered d.i.c.k enthusiastically.

"I thought that would about hit the spot with you, d.i.c.k," laughed Mr.

Boone.

"Yes," said Garry, "he is starving to death; he hasn't had anything to eat for nearly an hour and a half."

Leading the way, Mr. Boone headed the boys toward the dining room, while they unanimously ordered a fine steak, and soon were busily eating.

As they eat, let us look them over and get acquainted with them. Those of our readers who have read the three volumes preceding this one, "The Ranger Boys to the Rescue," "The Ranger Boys Find the Hermit," and "The Ranger Boys and the Border Smugglers," already know our heroes. Others must be introduced.

The leader of the trio is Garfield Boone. He is generally known as Garry. The stout boy with the long distance appet.i.te is d.i.c.k Wallace, close friend of Garry, and ward of Mr. Boone. The third is Phil Durant, a boy of French Canadian parentage. The three boys live in a small Maine town, only a few miles from Portland, the princ.i.p.al city of the Pine Tree State, as our northernmost commonwealth is known.

They have just completed their junior year in high school, and it has been decided that Garry and d.i.c.k shall go to a military school the coming fall, while Phil will have to remain and finish at the high school.

Hence they wanted to spend their last vacation together, and had picked on the idea of taking a camping trip to the woods. Mr. Boone, father of Garry, who owned extensive lumber tracts in the Maine woods and was connected with some of the big paper mills of the state, came to bat with an idea that pleased the boys immensely.

It was to this effect. That instead of going on a mere camping trip which might prove to be tiresome before it was concluded, that the boys become attached to the Forest Ranger Service as an extraordinary Unit of this woodcraft outfit.

Their duties would be the same as those of the older Rangers; that is, to guard the forests from the fire peril that constantly menaced the timber lands of the state. In this service there were two branches, the men who act as lookouts, having an unchanged station, and the patrol men who travel over a certain set course watching that fire does not start and keeping careless campers from starting fires in dangerous spots.

In a few days the boys had outfitted themselves and were on their way to their first station on the Sourdehunq Mountain, a tract of timberland owned by Mr. Boone. They had no thought of any adventure other than that which might be caused by the discovery of a fire, but on their second night on the trail they find the guide they had hired, one Jean LeBlanc, a French Canadian halfbreed, trying to steal their supplies.

They drive him away, and later find the halfbreed is inimical to them because of a fancied grievance he has against the elder Boone. They also make a staunch friend in the person of Nate Webster, an old Maine guide.

Later Webster replaces the Deputy Ranger, Anderson by name, who has proved incompetent, and Anderson joins forces with LeBlanc and becomes an enemy of the Ranger Boys, and nearly succeeds in doing them great harm.

Another friend is made in the person of an old hermit, who on several occasions warns the boys of impending peril by sending them cryptic notes.

On one occasion Jean LeBlanc kidnaps the little daughter of a family by the name of Graham, who are camping in the woods. With the aid of a note from the hermit, the boys are able to rescue her and capture LeBlanc.

The latter, however, escapes and makes much trouble for the boys, finally setting fire to the woods.

He and Anderson escape by climbing a sheer cliff. Still later the boys are asked by the Customs Secret Service to get evidence of a gang of smugglers on the Canadian border. This they do and the gang is seized, all except LeBlanc who dodges back across the boundary and is hence safe from arrest since he is on Canadian territory and not amenable to the United States law.

During a rainy season, they seek out the hermit and find him; that is, d.i.c.k finds him. One of their greatest adventures during the search for the gang of border smugglers is the finding, with the aid of an old map, of a tourmaline mine. The boys get a deed to the mineral rights of the land, and plan at a later date to mine the gems and make a handsome income for themselves.

It must also be explained that there is a mystery connected with d.i.c.k.

His father was a college professor of geology and botany, and a cla.s.smate of Mr. Boone. He had a fall from a horse that destroyed his memory, and before an operation could be performed, disappeared. d.i.c.k's mother had died when he was a baby, and so being without parents or home, Mr. Boone had become his guardian, bringing him up with his own son, Garry.

Now that we have a brief sketch of the boys and their previous activities, let us see what Mr. Boone's need of them is.

"Here is the whole story, boys," said Mr. Boone as they finished their dinner and returned to his room. "As you know, I have extensive interests not only in the timberland but in the mills that manufacture paper. Recently I severed connections with several of the mills, and put all my eggs in one basket, so to speak, by investing my funds all in one mill. Of course it is impossible to do business on a big scale without making many business enemies, or at least determined rivals. I have a good many such, and I have been given to understand that several of them have pooled their resources and become connected with the mills from which I withdrew my money.

"Of course I have not enough work in my one mill to take care of all the timber that I can cut, so I contract to supply other mills, necessarily becoming a rival of some of the other timber owners.

"Then, too, I have recently decided to start an experiment in summer lumbering. You know, of course, that Maine's lumber cutting season has always been in the winter because the logs could be cut and hauled over the snow to the rivers and then when the spring unleashed the ice-bound rivers, the logs could be driven down to the mills. However, I am figuring on getting out lumber for building during the summer and in the winter getting the logs for the pulp mills to grind ready for the making of paper. I have several important contracts with a time limit; that is, the necessary amount of lumber must be gotten out by a certain date else I forfeit my profit and large damages besides.

"Lately I have seen from my reports that the lumber is not being gotten out on schedule time. Whenever I come and look it over, or send a representative, everything goes like clockwork, but the moment that I turn my back a saw breaks, making a week's delay, or a tractor is broken, or something else happens. Unfortunately my financial affairs at the present time are in such shape that I must devote the greater part of my time to keeping the wheels going. This necessitates my being much of the time in Boston and New York, hence I cannot be at the cutting operations all the time.

"I have changed managers, but still no good comes of it. Now I am confident that the morale of my camp is being undermined by some business rivals, and that there is underground work of some sort going on. Since your success in getting that gang of smugglers, the complete story of which I have already heard, I believe that you boys can find out what is going on at the camp to hinder my contracts.

"I have thought that you boys might go to the vicinity of the cutting and sawmills and camp there. You would have the freedom of the camp, as I would write the manager who you were, and then you could use your eyes and ears and see what was what.

"I should suggest that you display a great deal of ignorance about lumbering operations and sawmill work, so that your presence would not excite undue suspicion. Further than that I can give you no instructions, for if I knew what the matter was I would not have to call on you for a.s.sistance. I am simply relying on you to be able to do as good a job for me as you have done for the Ranger Service and the Customs Department. In other words, you will have to work out your own salvation, and I am sure that you can produce for me the results that I want."