The Boy Scouts with the Motion Picture Players

The Boy Scouts with the Motion Picture Players

Robert Shaler

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The Boy Scouts with the Motion Picture Players by Robert Shaler

The Boy Scouts with the Motion Picture Players Chapter 1 THE HAUNTED MAKE-BELIEVE "CASTLE."

It was about the middle of a fall afternoon, and Friday at that, when five well-grown lads, clad in faded khaki suits that proclaimed them to be Boy Scouts, dropped down upon a moss covered log near a cold spring at which they had just quenched their thirst.

The one who acted as leader, and to whom the others often deferred, answered to the name of Hugh. He was, indeed, Hugh Hardin, assistant scout master; and the others were also full-fledged members of the Oakvale Boy Scout Troop of which so much has been written and told.

Those fortunate readers who are familiar with previous volumes in this series need no introduction to these lively lads.

For the benefit of others who have not up to this time made their acquaintance, it may be said that the boy next to Hugh was Alec Sands; the stout, rosy-cheeked fellow with the beaming face, Billy Worth; the slender one, Arthur Cameron; and the uneasy chap "Monkey" Stallings, so nicknamed on account of his pet hobby for hanging by his toes from the cross-pieces of telegraph poles, or the lofty limbs of forest trees.

It might also be noted further that Hugh was known as a fine all-round scout; Arthur's leading specialty lay in the line of amateur surgery, at which he was wonderfully proficient; Alec gave the leader a pretty good race in nearly every line of scout activity, while Billy,--well, to be frank, Billy's strong points might be set down as an everlasting fund of cheery good-nature, and a remarkable capacity for stowing away "grub."

Apparently the boys were out on some sort of fall hike. Each had burdened himself not only with a pack but a blanket as well, the latter secured, after the usual military habit, across one shoulder.

Each fellow also depended on a stout staff that, in a way, answered for an Alpine stock, should they have to climb any hills. Besides, it was handy as a weapon of defense in case they were attacked by a vicious dog.

"Well, the time limit you set has come, Alec," Hugh was saying after they had stretched themselves along the convenient log.

"Yes," burst out Billy, eagerly, "you promised to tell us all what you confided to Hugh before he agreed to get up this little weekend hike. I'm burning with curiosity to know what's in the wind."

"We've taken a leap in the dark, you see," added Arthur, "because when Hugh said it would be well worth our while we just trusted him. Now, open up, Alec, and relieve our suspense. You said the next time we stopped you'd begin to explain all this dark mystery."

"Me, too," exclaimed the Stallings boy, who was always turning his restless eyes upward, as though seeking some enticing branch where he could exercise his favorite antics.

Alec Sands laughed softly.

"I'm ready to tell my little story, boys," he remarked. "It isn't such a wonderful one, after all, but Hugh agreed with me that it might give some of us an excuse for coming up this way. And my aunt had supplied all the necessary funds covering our railroad fare from Oakvale to the little station where we jumped off the local train--Scarsdale."

"Which aunt, Alec?" demanded Billy, whom it was always difficult to suppress.

"Oh! none of you ever met this relative of mine, I guess," considered Alec. "Aunt Susan is a very rich woman, and what you might call eccentric if you wanted to be particularly nice, and not use a harsher word. In fact, her nerves have gone back on her, and every little noise about sets her wild. She has taken a notion that the only salvation for her is to find some sort of a quiet country home in which her servants can glide around in felt slippers, with never a rooster's crow to disturb the dead silence."

"Whew! you must mean she's a regular crank, Alec--excuse me for saying it!" exclaimed Billy, wiping his heated brow, for when others were shivering the fat boy perspired.

"Well, forget that part of it," resumed Alec, making a wry face. "Aunt Susan is peculiar, and immensely wealthy, so that money needn't stand in the way of her doing anything she fancies. In some way or other it seems she heard about a queer place away up here in the woods. It is known as Randall's Folly!"

"Why, seems to me I've heard something about that place!" burst out Arthur Cameron, in a surprised tone. "Isn't it a modern castle built by a man years ago and meant to look like some British place in the days of Queen Elizabeth?"

"Just what it is, Arthur," chuckled Alec, as though highly amused.

"Let's see," pursued the other, uneasily, "there was some sort of story told in connection with the castle--strikes me folks said it was haunted, or something like that."

"Whew! and are we heading for that beautiful spot as fast as we can hike along?" demanded Billy, his eyes round with wonder, perhaps uneasiness.

"My aunt wrote to my mother that she wanted some one to come up here and investigate, so she could have a full description before going any further into the deal for the property. Not that Aunt Susan bothered a bit about the ghost part of it, but she wanted to know whether the building was a ramshackle affair, or part-way decent. In fact, she asked for photographs of the place inside and out, and even requested that, if I could be induced to take the trip, along with some of those wonderfully bright chums of mine of whom she had been hearing such great stories, I was to buy the best camera that fifty dollars could command, and use the balance of the hundred for other expenses. So here we are close to Randall's Folly, with Saturday ahead of us for business, and meaning to go back home Sunday afternoon."

"Which lovely programme must include two nights spent under the roof of a haunted house!" gasped Billy, still wiping his streaming forehead, though he really should have been cooled off by this time.

"For my part," spoke up Arthur Cameron, "nothing would please me better than the chance to say I'd run across a real ghost. I've been reading lots of creepy stories connected with spooks, but they never could get me to believe in such silly things."

"Same here," added the Stallings boy, though his voice sounded a trifle unsteady as Hugh could not help noticing.

"As for me," the scout master remarked, "I considered it a fine chance for a little excitement. I, too, had heard some stories about this gloomy make-believe castle that had been built in the lonely woods by old Judge Randall when he married a young wife, and wanted to carry her away from the rest of the world. They say it's getting to be an interesting ruin by now, though perhaps Alec's aunt might choose to patch the crumbling walls up, if other things suited her."

"Huh! takes all sorts of freaks to make this world," grunted Billy. "The idea of anybody actually wanting to bury themselves away up here, and never see a thing in the way of circus, baseball, winter hockey, Boy Scout rivalries and other good happenings. The old Judge must have been crazy."

"Well, lots of people suspected it when he started to build this castle," said Alec, drily. "They felt dead sure after it happened; for hold your breath now, fellows, because to be honest with you there was a terrible tragedy, and after the poor young wife was buried the judge lived as much as ten years in an asylum. He had become a maniac, you see, from jealousy of his beautiful wife."

"I suppose it's all right, since there are four other fellows along," Billy finally went on to say, "but honest Injun, if I had known all this at the start, I don't believe I would have been so anxious to come. I expect that old toothache of mine would have cropped up and kept me home."

"The walking is good down to the station, Billy," murmured Alec, "and we were told that a freight-train would come along around dark this evening, bound south, which was due to stop at the water-tank"

"That'll be enough for you, Alec," continued the fat boy, with a certain amount of dignity. "You never knew me to show the white feather, and back down, once I put my shoulder to the wheel. If the rest can stand it I ought to be able to do so."

"Good for you, Billy," cried Hugh. "Alec here ought to make you an apology. But since we've rested up, and there's still half a mile to tramp, with the afternoon wearing on, suppose we make a fresh start."

Soon they were trailing along the dimly seen road, which evidently was not used to any great extent by the few scattered farmers in that vicinity. Most of the talk was in connection with the weird mansion toward which they were heading. Alec was coaxed to relate a number of other facts he had managed to pick up regarding its romantic history.

"Look out for signs of a high wall on the left, boys," he finally told them. "It may be almost hidden by vines and scrub trees by now, I was warned. It surrounds the whole place, though here and there it may be broken down. Few people after dark want to pass this place except in a hurry, and although it's only a mile and a half from the railroad, I don't believe tramps ever think of coming here. You see, most of them know the stories told about Randall's Folly, and they steer clear of the place."

A short time afterwards Hugh's keen eyes made a discovery.

"I think the wall you mentioned lies over yonder where all that wild tangle can be seen," he remarked, whereupon there was a hurried movement in that direction, followed by various exclamations to the effect that the scout master's announcement was indeed true.

"Seems as if the castle must be perched on a high piece of ground, commanding a pretty good view of the country around," observed Arthur, as they sought for a broken place in the crumbling wall so as to gain an entrance to the grounds beyond.

"The story goes that Judge Randall built it that way so he could keep watch, and know if any of his wife's former suitors were heading this way," Alec explained.

"Why, he must have been a regular old Bluebeard!" gurgled Billy.

"He was demented on that one subject," confessed Alec, "and the disease kept getting a stronger grip on him until finally--but hello! here's the hole in the wall we wanted to find, so let's crawl over the broken-down stones and enter."

"Hold on," snapped Hugh just then, "I thought you said, Alec, no one was bold enough to trespass here! If you look down to where I point you'll see part of a footprint in mud, showing that a man must have come across this broken wall not half an hour or so ago!"

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