"Hello! Frank!"
"What now?" and the one addressed sat up suddenly, wide awake it seemed.
"It's morning," said Will, "and I'm tired of keeping watch, that's all."
Frank laughed good-naturedly.
"That's quite enough, old fellow. Time I was up and about, for this
promises to be a day that we may mark with a white stone in the log of
our outing. The sun is going to get in sight presently. No signs of
Bluff coming back?"
"He hasn't arrived. I didn't look out over the lake yet. Seems to be
something of a haze, or morning fog on the water, so you can't see very
far," replied Will.
Frank stepped to where he could have a clear, unobstructed view up the
lake. As his chum had said, there were patches of fog rising off the
water, but this was vanishing rapidly. Already one could see for quite
some distance.
"See anything, brother?" called out Will, who was already beginning to
put the coffee in the pot.
He had been on duty for several hours, and felt a bit hungry. Boys can
eat six times a day when in the woods, for the open air seems to develop
most tremendous appetites.
"Nothing except the solitary old loon that kept up such a screeching
last night," replied the lookout, shading his eyes with his hand, the
better to look.
"I don't like that. Hope nothing has happened to poor old Bluff."
"There you go again. What could happen to him? He's a cracking good
swimmer, and even if he had an upset, which is most unlikely, he would
hang to his canoe. The boat couldn't sink with metallic air-chambers at
both ends," answered Frank.
"But surely he's had plenty of time to get there and back?"
"Granted; but you heard what I told him--to wait for a reasonable time
if he found the sheriff away. No doubt Mr. Dodd is out searching high
and low for the very fellows we know to be here on Wildcat Island. Give
Bluff more time. Take my word for it, he will show up when he gets good
and ready, if not with the posse, then alone. Bluff doesn't like to be
left out in the cold when there's anything of a rumpus going on. Want
some help getting breakfast, Will?"
"Perhaps so, unless you are contented to eat cold boiled rice; we've got
plenty and to spare of that dish," answered the novice cook, with a
grin.
"I rather think that would be a poor breakfast dish. The stomach wants
something warm about this time. Are all the eggs that we brought gone?"
asked Frank.
"I saw several in the coffee can just now. Somebody stuck them in there
to keep from breaking them, I guess. How will you have yours?" answered
Will.
"Leave it to me, and I'll see that we have an appetizing mess. An omelet
for mine, I think. But after all, I don't seem so very hungry. Worrying
about Jerry has somehow affected my spirits, and a fellow can't eat much
when he feels downcast."
In spite of all drawbacks both boys did full justice to the breakfast
that was spread on the table after a little while. Will kept tabs on
whatever his companion did.
"I'm going to learn how to cook everything that one would be apt to want
in a camp; and if you don't mind explaining I'll begin right now to take
a few lessons," he said as Frank started to break the eggs into a
pannikin, preparatory to beating them up, and adding the shredded bits
of ham they had left over from the previous day.
When the meal was finished and the dishes and cooking utensils properly
washed up, Frank sat down to wait for Bluff to appear up the lake, while
Will vanished inside the tent to bother with his films.
He had brought along an apparatus whereby he could develop these, no
matter as to the time or conditions--daylight being just the same as
darkness.
Frank heard him talking to himself inside the tent, but paid no
attention to what he was saying, for at that moment he noticed a moving
object up the lake, which he really believed might be the canoe of his
chum, Bluff, returning alone.
If this proved to be the case another disappointment awaited the
campers, and the rescue of poor Jerry might again be postponed to an
unknown time. The sheriff being away, no one could tell when he would
receive the letter Bluff was to leave for his perusal, and hence it
might be many hours ere a move was made.
By that time the hoboes could have quitted the island and lost
themselves in the dense woods of the mainland, while Jerry's
hiding-place would remain unknown, so that he might even die of neglect.
The coming of Will broke in upon Frank's gloomy communion.
Apparently Will had some reason for excitement. He was holding a
developed film in his hand as he rushed up to Frank.
"What do you think it was set my flashlight trap off last night?" he
demanded.
"A 'coon, doubtless--that seems most likely," answered the other,
carelessly.
"Guess again,"
"'Possum--wildcat--surely not a bear, though I did hear quite a scramble
over in that quarter at the time? Go on and tell me," said Frank.
For answer Will held the film up so that it was between the light and
the eyes of his companion.
"It's been in the hypo, and is fixed, but not thoroughly washed; but you
can see for yourself," he exclaimed triumphantly.
Frank gave an exclamation.
"Why, you caught a man!"
"Yes, and his face is turned exactly toward the camera. The snap made
him look, and with the flash he was indelibly impressed on the film.
What is more, if you look at it on the other side and partly turned
away, you can see the positive of his face as plain as day. It's Waddy,
all right. I got him!" laughed the photographer, in glee.
"Well, that's worth something. I'm beginning to realize the tremendous
possibilities of a camera at times. That evidence would be accepted in
court as conclusive. Go, and wash the film carefully, Will. If you fail
to get a few great scenes, you don't lose everything, it seems."
"Isn't that the Peters tribe setting sail, Frank?"
"Why it is, as sure as you live. I wonder they stayed so late. They must
be pretty hungry by this time if that educated ape got away with all
they had. Perhaps we might have made a master stroke if we'd gone over
this morning with an offering of some bacon, coffee and such things. Too
bad neither of us thought of it before."
Will looked strangely at his companion. He could not wholly understand
the impulses that guided the actions of the other. His experience in the
world had not been as varied as that of the boy from Maine, or he might
have realized what was meant; though possibly the act of kindness might,
after all, have been wasted on those tough young citizens.
"They're going home, all right, and good riddance. If we could only get
rid of the balance of undesirable people on this same island, there
might be a chance for us to finish up our outing in peace," he remarked
bitterly.
"I hope they don't give Bluff any trouble," said Frank, as if musing.
"Bluff--is he in sight, then?" demanded his comrade, eagerly.
"Yes, over there, and coming," replied Frank, pointing to the advancing
canoe.
"Here are your glasses. Suppose you take a look and see."
Will handed over the marine glasses as he spoke. As he adjusted them to
his eyes, Frank swept one glance at the coming Bluff. Then he turned his
attention to the departing disgusted campers.
"Something has been going on among those fellows, I declare," he
announced.
"What do you mean?" asked his companion, in surprise.
"They seem to have been up against it, or else having a fight among
themselves. I can see a couple who have bandages about their heads, and
one seems to be holding his arm mighty tenderly. I believe it is
broken."
"You don't say? Well, come to think of it, I do remember hearing
something of a commotion a while back, but thought they were only having
their usual rough-house time. Please let me look, Frank."
A minute later he uttered an exclamation.
"What now?" it was Frank's turn to ask.
"Seems strange to me. I think there must be one of them lying down in
the bottom of the boat," returned Will.
"That would indicate something pretty serious. Perhaps they've had a
fight with those hoboes, or it may have been our wild man. But what
makes you think such a thing, Will?"
"I counted seven of them when they came, and so did Bluff. Now there are
only six in sight, and as you say, three of them are fit for the
hospital. Where can the seventh be?"
"Perhaps the hoboes got him, just as they did Jerry. If so, what under
the sun can their scheme be? Why load down with a variety of
Centerville's leading citizens when they find it so hard to provide food
for themselves?"
"I give it up. The conundrum is too much for me. But I think my idea is
more apt to cover the truth, and that the seventh boy is laid out in the
boat, wounded, or perhaps dead," continued Will, in an awe-struck tone.
"Oh! I hope not the latter. They're a rough bunch, but they've had
little opportunity to learn better, and we mustn't be too hard on them.
Such fellows can do things that would be little short of a crime for
those of us who have decent homes and indulgent parents. Bluff seems to
be coming along rather slowly, don't you think?"
As Frank said this his companion turned the glasses upon the canoe.
"Something has happened to him. Perhaps his paddle has broken; I
remember it gave way while we were coming here, and he spliced it
yesterday. Yes, that must be what ails him," he exclaimed.
"That's too bad," observed Frank, looking at the other boats, as though
wondering whether it might be worth while to launch one, and speed out
on the lake to the assistance of the chum who was coming.
But the distance was too great, and he could not hope to reach the scene
before whatever was fated to happen had occurred.
"Why do you say that Bluff could get here with only a piece of his
paddle?" remarked Will.
"If those ugly chaps let him. See, they have already changed their
course several points. They mean to intercept him."
"You don't think they'd bother with him, do you?" cried Will.
"I'm afraid they're in a bad humor, and ready to tackle anything that
offers a chance to work off old scores. If Bluff only had his paddle in
decent order he could laugh at them. How foolish of him to take only his
single blade along."
Frank now clapped the glasses to his eyes again.
"Look at that, will you? Why, the breezy chap doesn't even think it
worth while to turn and run, or even try to slip past. He's coming
directly on, and in another minute will run slap into that rowboat,
loaded with toughs. I'm afraid there's going to be a bad spill for our
headstrong chum," he sighed.
"Perhaps he is only holding himself in reserve, and means to make a
spurt for it at the very last second. Bluff is smart, I tell you. He
knows what those boys are up to, and is far from being asleep. Tell me
what he is doing, Frank. I can hear them shouting angrily at him now.
Oh! I wish we were out there to help him."
Will even forgot his natural timidity, and had the chance been given
him, would doubtless have proven a hero in defense of his chum.
"He seems to have stopped paddling altogether. Now he reaches down into
the bottom of his canoe after something. He is aiming it at them--it's
his paddle--no it isn't either--as sure as you live, he's got that
repeating-gun of his!"
Even as the excited Frank spoke, over the water they heard a distant
voice shout:
"Hands up! you sharks, or I'll pepper you good and hard. Six shots I've
got here, as fast as I can pump the lever. Hands up! I say, every one of
you!"