BOB TAKEN ILL
Securing the boat, Jerry took a survey of the camp. Ned and Bob had
lighted other lanterns and, by their gleams, it could be seen that
nothing had been taken. The improvised burglar alarm had given timely
notice, or the boys might have mourned the loss of the _Dartaway_, as
well as other of their possessions.
“They seem to have gotten away,” remarked Jerry, coming back from where
he had made the motor boat fast. “I wonder how they got here?”
“In a canoe,” answered Ned, pointing to the marks of where the keel
of one had rested on the little beach of the lake. “But what was that
tremendous racket?”
“A little invention of mine,” and Jerry explained it.
“I wonder who they were?” asked Bob.
“Some of the same negroes with whom the professor has gone off,”
replied Jerry.
“Do you really think so?”
“I do. I believe it is all a part of a scheme to rob him and us. Those
men wanted to get him out of the way so they could plunder our camp. I
guess they thought we were boys who had never been out alone before.”
“They think differently now,” observed Bob. “I reckon my bullet went
uncomfortably close to some of ’em.”
“We may have scared them off for the time being,” went on Jerry, “but
we’ve got to be on the watch. Our camp represents a lot of wealth to
those colored men, and they’ll stop at nothing, short of a gun, to get
it. It’ll have to be watch and watch after this.”
“You’re right,” agreed Ned. “We should have done it at first. But it’s
not too late, thanks to the fish-line burglar alarm.”
The boys arranged to spend the rest of the night taking turns at
standing guard, but their precautions were needless, for they were not
disturbed again. In the morning they made a more careful examination
and, by the tracks in the mud, came to the conclusion that at least
five men had endeavored to loot the camp.
“What about the professor?” asked Bob, when they had discussed the
occurrences of the night.
“I’m worried about him,” admitted Jerry. “He’s such an innocent and
trusting gentleman that he’d do anything those scoundrels asked him to.
I suppose by this time they have him several miles away from here.”
“Do you think they’ll harm him?” asked Ned.
“Maybe not. They’ll certainly rob him, and they may turn him adrift in
the everglades, and that’s the worst thing they could do. He’ll never
be able to find his way out.”
“Is it as bad as that?” asked Ned.
“I don’t want to take too gloomy a view of it,” went on Jerry, “but you
must admit it looks serious.”
“Still, the professor is a smart man. He’s used to going in dense
woods after insects and finding his way out,” said Bob. “Look at the
different places he has been with us--even in the buried city in
Mexico--and he got out all right.”
“This is different,” Jerry stated. “The everglades are worse than any
forest. If he gets off the firm ground he’ll sink down in the swamp and
never be able to get out. Boys, I wish the professor was safely back
with us. But there’s no help for it now, and all we can do is to wait.
Perhaps I’m too nervous and he may turn up all right, but the attack on
the camp looks bad.”
“Poor old professor!” murmured Ned. “I’d hate to have anything happen
to him.”
“So would I,” put in Bob, “but I guess, as Jerry says, there’s nothing
to be done but to wait.”
The day seemed very long, for they were watching for the return of
the scientist. No one had the heart to do anything, and the boys sat
listlessly about the camp, even Bob having a poor appetite for his
meals.
Toward afternoon Ned proposed that they take their guns and a walk
along the edge of the lake, not going far away from camp.
“We might see something to shoot at,” he said. “It will make the time
pass quicker, and if there are any negroes hiding about they’ll hear
the guns and know we’re on the watch.”
The plan was agreed to, and the boys tried several shots at loons and
alligators. Jerry succeeded in wounding one of the big saurians, but
the creature buried itself in the mud and the boys could not get it.
“We’ll take the boat to-morrow,” said Ned, “and have a try at some of
these big lizards. If we could skin one or two we’d have some nice
hides to show for our trip.”
“Excuse me from skinning alligators,” remarked Bob, making a wry face.
“The weather is too hot.”
As they started back for camp Bob espied a bush laden with yellow
fruit. He approached it on the run.
“Just what I’ve been wishing for!” he exclaimed, pulling off some and
beginning to eat them.
“Hold on!” cried Jerry. “What are those things? They may be poison.”
“They’re mangoes,” answered Bob, eating his second one.
“Are you sure?” and Jerry looked doubtful.
“Of course,” answered the always-hungry youth. “I’ve read about them
and I know.”
“Better leave ’em alone,” advised Jerry. “They may be the mango fruit,
but I wouldn’t take any chances. Besides, if they are mangoes, this
variety, from having grown in the everglades, may be poisonous.”
“They don’t taste so,” remarked Bob, continuing to eat the fruit, which
smelled delicious and had a fine appearance. “Better have some, Ned.”
“No, thanks. Camp stuff is good enough for me when I’m not sure of what
the other is.”
Bob continued to enjoy himself on the fruit, which certainly was
tempting. He only laughed at the warnings of his companions, and filled
his pockets with the yellow things, a number of which he took back to
camp.
In accordance with the plan of the previous night, the boys maintained
a watch. The fish-line alarm was set again, and with a lantern burning
down near the boat, where it would disclose any persons who might try
to sneak up and cut the mooring lines, Ned and Jerry prepared to turn
in. It was Bob’s turn to stand first watch. The boys had not lost their
uneasy feeling concerning the professor, and they hoped every moment to
hear his cheery hail as he returned.
“Don’t you wish you’d brought some of the mangoes?” asked Bob of his
chums, producing some of the yellow fruit as he prepared to begin his
tour of duty. “This will keep me awake.”
“Call us at the slightest sign of danger,” cautioned Jerry, as he went
inside the tent.
It seemed that he and Ned had been sleeping but a short time when they
were suddenly aroused by Bob shaking them.
“What is it? The negroes again?” asked Jerry as he sat up and grabbed
his gun.
“No,” replied Bob in a faint voice. “Oh, Jerry, I’m awful sick! I guess
it was those mangoes. I can hardly stand! Can’t you do something for
me?”