"After all, fellows, it\'s good to be back home again." The speaker, Rob Blake, leader of the Eagle Patrol of Boy Scouts, spoke with conviction. He was a "rangy," sun-burned lad of about eighteen, clear-eyed, confident and wiry. His Boy Scout training, too, had made him resourceful beyond his years. "Yes, and it\'s also good to know that we each have a good substantial sum of money in the bank as the result of the finding of the Dangerfield fortune," agreed Merritt Crawford, his second in command, a sunny-faced, good-natured looking youth a little younger than Rob and crowned with a tousled mass of wavy brown hair. --This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition. --This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.

CHAPTER I SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL The dark growth of scrub oak and pine parted suddenly and the lithe figure of a boy of about seventeen emerged suddenly into the little clearing. The lad who had so abruptly materialized from the close-growing vegetation peculiar to the region about the little town of Hampton, on the south shore of Long Island, wore a well-fitting uniform of brown khaki, canvas leggings of the same hue and a soft hat of the campaign variety, turned up at one side. To the front of his headpiece was fastened a metal badge, resembling the three-pointed arrow head utilized on old maps to indicate the north. On a metal scroll beneath it were embossed the words: "Be Prepared." The manner of the badge\'s attachment would have indicated at once, to any one familiar with the organization, that the lad wearing it was the patrol leader of the local band of Boy Scouts. Gazing keenly about him on all sides of the little clearing in the midst of which he stood, the boy\'s eyes lighted with a gleam of satisfaction on a largish rock. He lifted this up, adjusted it to his satisfaction and then picked up a smaller stone. This he placed on the top of the first and then listened intently. After a moment of this he then placed beneath the large underlying rock and at its left side a small stone. Suddenly he started and gazed back. From the distance, borne faintly to his ears, came far off boyish shouts and cries. They rose like the baying of a pack in full cry. Now high, now low on the hush of the midsummer afternoon. "They picked the trail all right," he remarked to himself, with a smile, "maybe I\'d better leave another sign." Stooping he snapped off a small low-growing branch and broke it near the end so that its top hung limply down. "Two signs now that this is the trail," he resumed as he stuck it in the ground beside the stone sign. "Now I\'d better be off, for they are picking my tracks up, fast." He darted off into the undergrowth on the opposite side of the clearing, vanishing as suddenly and noiselessly as he had appeared. A few seconds later the deserted clearing was invaded by a scouting party of ten lads ranging in years from twelve to sixteen. They were all attired in similar uniforms to the leader, whom they were tracing, with but one exception they wore their "Be Prepared" badges on the left arm above the elbow. Some of them were only entitled to affix the motto part of the badge the scroll inscribed with the motto. These latter were the second-class scouts of the Eagle Patrol. The exception to the badge-bearers was a tall, well-knit lad with a sunny face and wavy, brown hair. His badge was worn on the left arm, as were the others, but it had a strip of white braid sewn beneath it. This indicated that the bearer was the corporal of the patrol. As the group of flushed, panting lads emerged into the sandy space the corporal looked sharply about him. Almost at once his eye encountered the "spoor" left by the preceding lad. "Here\'s the trail, boys," he shouted, "and to judge by the fresh look of the break in this branch it can\'t have been placed here very long....

"The Boy Aviators’ Flight for a Fortune" from John Henry Goldfrap. North American journalist and author of boys\' books (1879-1917). --This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition. --This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.

John Henry Goldfrap (1879 – November 21, 1917) was a North American journalist and author of boys\' books, participating in the "American series phenomenon." He always wrote under pseudonyms. THE BOY AVIATORS POLAR DASH; or, Facing Death in the Antarctic -- "The useful information concerning the Antarctic regions, and the aviation features and their technical correctness, set the book apart from those with simple entertainment and adventure." -- Dallas News, Dallas Texas; -- 1910. Hurst.

Robert Shaler wrote this popular book that continues to be widely read today despite its age.

Robert Shaler wrote this popular book that continues to be widely read today despite its age.

CHAPTER I. A FEUDAL CASTLE. IT was the age of chain armour and tournaments—of iron barons and barons\' wars—of pilgrims and armed pilgrimages—of forests and forest outlaws—when Henry III. reigned as King of England, and the feudal system, though no longer rampant, was still full of life and energy; when Louis King of France, afterwards canonised as St. Louis, undertook one of the last and most celebrated of those expeditions known as the Crusades, and described as \'feudalism\'s great adventure, and popular glory.\' At the time when Henry was King of England and when Louis of France was about to embark for the East, with the object of rescuing the Holy Sepulchre from the Saracens, there stood on the very verge of Northumberland a strong baronial edifice, known as the Castle of Wark, occupying a circular eminence, visible from a great distance, and commanding such an extensive view to the north as seemed to ensure the garrison against any sudden inroad on the part of the restless and refractory Scots. On the north the foundations were washed by the waters of the Tweed, here broad and deep; and on the south were a little town, which had risen under the protection of the castle, and,—stretching away towards the hills of Cheviot,—an extensive park or chase, abounding with wild cattle and deer and beasts of game. At an earlier period this castle had been a possession of the famous house of Espec; and, when in after days it came into the hands of the Montacute Earls of Salisbury, Edward III. was inspired within its walls with that romantic admiration of the Countess of Salisbury which resulted in the institution of the Order of the Garter. During the fifth decade of the thirteenth century, however, it was the chief seat of Robert, Lord de Roos, a powerful Anglo-Norman noble, whose father had been one of the barons of Runnymede and one of the conservators of the Great Charter. Like most of the fortresses built by the Norman conquerors of England, Wark consisted of a base-court, a keep, and a barbican in front of the base-court. The sides of the walls were fortified with innumerable angles, towers, and buttresses, and surmounted with strong battlements and hornworks. For greater security the castle was encompassed, save towards the Tweed, with a moat or deep ditch, filled with water, and fortified with strong palisades, and sharp stakes set thick all around the walls. Over the moat, at the principal gate, was the drawbridge, which was almost always raised, and the gate-house, a square building, having strong towers at each corner. Over the entrance and within the square of the gate-house was an arched vault, and over it was a chamber with apertures, through which, on occasion of an assault, the garrison, unseen the whilst, could watch the operations of the foe, and pour boiling water or melted lead on the foremost assailants. On the west side were the outworks, consisting of a platform with a trench half a mile in length, and breastworks, and covered ways, and mounds....

CHAPTER I. ANTWERP, ON THE SCHELDT. "Oh! how glad I am that part of the trip is over, now we\'ve crossed from England to Antwerp without being wrecked!" "You certainly did seem to have a bad time of it, Tubby, in the wash of the Channel!" "Bad time did you say, Rob? It was a great deal worse than anything we struck on the voyage between New York and Liverpool, let me tell you." "But now we want to forget all our troubles of the past, Tubby." "I know what you mean by that, Merritt; it\'s just the same as telling me the worst is yet to come." "Well, I\'m a little afraid myself that\'s going to turn out a fact. Here we are, just landed in a strange country that is being overrun by an army of German invaders; and all of us are bound to push deeper and deeper into the mire." "Hey, Merritt, you give me a shiver when you say that, don\'t you know?" "I guess you must mean a quiver, Tubby; because whenever you laugh or tremble you make me think of a bowl full of jelly!" "Now you\'re making sport of me because I\'m so pudgy and fat. Just as if I could help that; can I, Rob?" "To be sure you couldn\'t, Tubby; and we wouldn\'t want you to be anything but what you are—the best natured scout in the whole Eagle Patrol, and I\'m safe in saying you\'re the only fellow in the Long Island town of Hampton who hasn\'t an enemy. Everybody takes a fancy to a jolly rolypoly like you, Tubby." "What would we do without you?" Merritt added, with real feeling in his voice. "Well, but it strikes me you tried mighty hard to induce me not to join you two on this wonderful trip abroad," complained the fat boy reproachfully. "There was a good reason for that, Tubby," defended Merritt quickly. "I could see that with all these Old World countries in a scrap, my job of finding that man who is wanted so badly by my grandfather might take me into the fighting zone. Now Rob, as the leader of the Eagle Patrol, volunteered to stand by me, and I gladly accepted his assistance. When you asked to go along I was afraid the hardships of the trip might be too much for one of your peculiar build. That\'s all, I give you my word for it, Tubby." "My \'peculiar build,\' as you call it, Merritt," chuckled the other, considerably mollified by the explanation offered, "has gotten me into a peck of trouble, I admit. But you never saw me show the white feather, did you?" "Never, Tubby!" admitted the boy addressed, who was a rather thoughtful looking young chap, of athletic build, though possibly not quite the equal of Rob Blake, the leader of the scout patrol to which all of them belonged. "It was mighty good of you two to back me up when I\'d decided to take the risk alone. But unless that precious paper can be recovered, my grandfather, you know, stands to lose what he says is an enormous amount of money." "He\'s got plenty in reserve, I understand, Merritt," observed Blake. "What a grand thing that turned out for your folks when Grandfather Merritt, who had cut your dad out of his will many years ago after he married against his wishes, repented of his cruelty, and paid you an unexpected visit to get acquainted. Little did you think, when you stood up for that old fellow who was being snowballed so unmercifully by a bunch of village boys, that it was your own grandfather." "Yes," added Tubby, "you know they say a good action is never thrown away. That\'s why I\'m always watching for my opportunities. Some day I hope to win the admiration of a crank millionaire who should, of course, make me his heir." "Well, here we are landed in Antwerp, and with a lot of sights to gather in before we set out in the direction of Brussels to find your man....

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