It was the first soldier's left hand, however, which attracted the boys'

particular attention. Resting in his lap, and partly concealed by a newspaper, the hand was so doubled that the thumb stood upright. And this latter member was bobbing and wagging up and down, now slowly, now quickly, in most curious fashion.

"Perhaps it's St. Vitus' dance," ventured Jack.

"But that affects the whole body, or at least the whole limb, doesn't it?"

Jack, who sat next the window, leaned slightly forward. "The other soldier is watching him," he said. "Maybe the fellow with the wiggling thumb is out of his mind, and this one is taking him somewhere. He is watching his hand."

Silently the boys continued to regard the curious proceeding.

Suddenly the thumb became quiet, there was the rattle of a paper in the hands of the second soldier, and in turn his thumb became affected with the wagging. In a moment the boys understood.

The two soldiers were army signallers, and were carrying on a silent conversation, using their thumbs as they would a flag.

Jack and Alex looked at one another and laughed softly. "We're bright, eh?" Alex remarked.

"Let us watch when the other starts again--we can't see this chap's hand well enough--and see if we can't read it," suggested Jack. "That one-flag signal system is based on the telegraph dot and dash code, you know. And it's not likely they are speaking of anything private--only amusing themselves."

The paper opposite again covered the first soldier's hand, and observing closely, after a few minutes the boys were able to interpret the strokes of the wagging thumb with ease. They corresponded precisely to the strokes of a telegraph sounder, and of course were very much slower.

"... not much. I saw her first," they read. "You have three girls at K now.... Get out. I'll tell Maggie O'Rorke, and she'll pick your eyes out.... No, sir. You can have the two old maids just back of you, and the fat party with the red hair. That's your taste anyway.... If you spoke she'd freeze you so you'd never thaw out."

The two boys exchanged glances, and chuckled in amus.e.m.e.nt.

"Say, look at the gaudy nose on that old chap across the aisle," went on the wagging thumb. "Talk about danger signals! They ought to hire him to sit on the cow-catcher foggy nights.... I wouldn't like to pay for all the paint it took to color it.... Plain whiskey, I guess. You can see what you are coming to if you don't look out.... What's the matter with that baby back there? Is the woman lynching it, or is it lynching the woman?... It's not, either. It's just like your high tenor, singing the Soldier's Farewell. Only better. More in tune.... Yes, if they knew what we'd been saying about them there'd be a riot. I wouldn't give much for your hair when the two old ladies behind got through with it."

At this point, unable to resist the temptation, Alex nudged Jack, drew a pencil from his pocket, and slyly tapped on the metal of the seat-arm the two letters of the telegraph laugh, "Hi!"

The soldier opposite started, looked quickly over, caught the two boys'

twinkling eyes, and coloring, laughed heartily. Promptly then he raised his thumb, and wagged, "You young rascals! I'll have you in the guard-house for stealing military information. Who are you?"

Alex replied, using his thumb as he had seen the soldier do; and the animated exchange of signals which followed continued until a whistle from the engine announced a stop, and the soldier wagged, "We get off here. Good-by."

"Glad to have met you," he said, smiling, as he and his companion pa.s.sed them.

"Glad to have met you," responded the boys heartily. "And to have got onto the signalling. It may come in useful some day," Alex added. "Good day."

"That's just what I was thinking myself, Al," declared Jack. "We must practice it."

Following the disappearance of the out-going pa.s.sengers, a group of newcomers appeared at the farther car door.

"Here comes someone I know," Jack observed. "The big man in front--Burke, a real estate agent."

The tall, heavy-featured man pa.s.sed them and took the seat immediately behind.

"He didn't speak to you," commented Alex.

"I'm glad he didn't. He's no friend; just knew him, I meant," responded Jack. "He is a proper shark, they say. I know he practically did a widow out of a bit of property just back of ours.

"And here is another, same business, from the next town. And not much better," Jack went on, as a short, bustling, sharp-featured man appeared.

The man behind them stood up and called, "Hi, there, Mitch.e.l.l! Here!" The newcomer waved his hand, came forward quickly, and also dropped into the seat at the rear of the two boys.

"Nice pair of hawks," said Jack. "I'll bet they are hatching up something with a shady side to it. I'd be tempted to listen if I could."

As the train was again under way, Jack had no opportunity of overhearing what was being said behind them. A few miles farther, however, they came once more to a stop, and almost immediately he p.r.i.c.ked up his ears and nudged Alex.

"... don't believe the ignorant dolt knows the real value of b.u.t.ter and eggs." It was the deep voice of the bigger man, Burke. "He's one of those queer ducks, without any friends. Lives there all by himself, doesn't read the papers, and only comes to town about once a month. No; there's not one chance in ten of his waking up and getting onto it."

"You always were a lucky dog," declared the other. "If you land it you ought to clear fifty thousand inside of five years."

"A hundred. I intend holding for a cold hundred thousand. There has been talk of the town building a steam plant already; but water is of course away ahead of that, and they are sure to swing to it. And this fall is the only one within ten miles of Haddowville."

"Didn't I tell you!" exclaimed Jack in a whisper. "Doing somebody out of something, whatever it is."

"You might build the plant yourself, and hold the town up for whatever you wished," the second speaker went on.

"Yes, I could. But I prefer the ready cash. That has always been my plan of doing business. No; I figure on disposing of the farm just as it stands, either to the town, or a corporation, for an even hundred thousand."

"Does that give you a clue, Jack?" Alex asked.

Jack shook his head. At the next remark, however, he sharply gripped Alex's arm.

"What fall has the stream there?"

"Forty feet, and the lake back of it is nearly a mile long, and a half mile wide."

The rumble of the train again drowned the voices of the two men, but Jack had heard enough. "It's old Uncle Joe Potter--his farm," he said with indignation. "Now I understand. The old farmer apparently doesn't know its value as an electric power plant site, and Burke is trying to get hold of it for a song."

"Let us put the old man onto him," Alex immediately suggested.

"I'll talk the matter over with Father, and see what he says," said Jack.

"But here comes the good old town," he broke off with boyish enthusiasm.

"Look, there is the creek, and the old swimming-hole at the bend. I'll bet I've been in there a thousand times. And see that spire--that's our church. Our house is just beyond.

"Come on, let's be getting out."

Catching up their suitcases, the boys pa.s.sed down the aisle. As they halted at the door, they glanced back and saw that their neighbors of the next seat were following them. The two men were still talking; and coming to a stand behind the boys, the latter caught a further remark from Burke apparently referring to the Potter farm deal.

"... wrote asking him to town this evening," he was saying. "I'll give him a bit of a good time to-night, and put him up at one of the hotels--and, unless something unexpected happens, I'll guarantee I'll have the thing put through by noon to-morrow."

"I hope you do," responded his companion.

"And I hope you don't!" exclaimed Jack beneath his breath. "And I may do something more than hope."