THE BIG BEAR
Dave was very thoughtful as the four boys rowed back to the bungalows
with the things procured from Mr. Appleby. His talk with Della Ford and
her aunt had lasted until the others were ready to depart, but he had
gained little information beyond that already known to the reader.
"If only I had the address of that Obadiah Jones, I might go and see him
and listen to what he has to say about Ward Porton," he told himself.
"Of course he may not be Porton's uncle at all--I know lots of children
taken from poorhouses and orphan asylums who call the folks aunt and
uncle. But even if he isn't, he may be able to give me some information
that will put me on the right track regarding this affair."
The morning was spent by those at the bungalows in getting settled once
more. The provisions brought from the Appleby camp were divided between
the two places, and likewise the kitchen utensils.
"I'd like to set some sort of a trap and catch those burglars," declared
Ben.
"I don't see how you're going to do it," returned our hero. "I doubt
very much whether they will show themselves in this vicinity again. More
than likely they are miles away."
"Dave, do you think Link Merwell had anything to do with this?"
"It's possible, Ben, although I don't see how he would have the nerve to
come back here after what happened. I should think he would feel like
quitting this territory entirely."
Another day went by, bringing no word from Crumville. Our hero and Roger
had tramped all the way to Carpen Falls, hoping for letters, but the
only one to come in was a re-directed epistle for Ben, inviting him to
become a subscriber to some local charity.
"O shucks! I suppose the charity is all right," said Ben, when he got
this letter, "but I'd like to get some real news from dad or somebody
else at home."
Dave said little, but he felt more downcast than ever. He had thought
that a letter would surely come by now. Roger noticed how he felt, and
placed a kindly hand on our hero's shoulder.
"Don't you worry, Dave, old man," he said feelingly, "this will come out
all right in the end."
"I hope so, Roger," was the answer. "But this suspense wears on a
fellow."
"Perhaps if you went to Maine to that town where the poorhouse is
located that Ward Porton says he came from, you might be able to find
out something about that Obadiah Jones," went on the senator's son, who
had been told of what the Fords had revealed.
"I was thinking something of that, Roger, and if I can't get on the
track any other way, I'll go there," was the reply. "But I hate to think
of leaving here until I get some kind of word from Crumville."
"Well, some things move slowly, Dave, don't forget that. More than
likely your unc--I mean the folks down in Crumville--are doing all they
can to get to the bottom of the matter. Most likely they are
investigating the proofs that Ward Porton said he was willing to
present."
On the following morning there was something of a surprise. About eleven
o'clock, while some of the lads were fishing, and Dave had Jessie out in
a canoe, there came a shout from up the brook, and looking in that
direction our hero saw Phil approaching, with his uncle beside him,
leaning on the youth's shoulder.
"Hello, Mr. Lawrence's ankle must have got better quickly!" cried Dave.
"And is that the so-called wild man?" returned Jessie. "He doesn't seem
to be very wild now."
"You've heard us tell why he acted in that outlandish way," was the
answer, as Dave paddled toward the dock.
Soon the boys were surrounding the new arrivals, and Mr. Lawrence was
led to a couch, upon which he was glad to sit down and thus rest his
injured ankle. The ladies and the girls were introduced, and the man
shook hands with them rather shamefacedly.
"I'll have to apologize to you for acting so rudely," said Lester
Lawrence, after the introductions were over. "I suppose the boys have
told you why I did it?"
"Yes, Mr. Lawrence," answered Mrs. Wadsworth, kindly. "And under the
circumstances we are quite willing to let bygones be bygones."
"Can we do anything for your ankle?" questioned Laura, who was a
natural-born nurse.
"I guess about all it needs is rest," answered Lester Lawrence. "It was
quite a journey from my shack to this place. But I saw that Phil was
getting anxious to rejoin you, so I told him we might as well make the
venture to-day rather than wait. He has been hoping that you would have
some word for him from my brother."
"No word yet, Phil," answered Dave, "but there may be in the mail
to-day."
"Say, we had some scare this morning just before we left the cabin!"
declared the shipowner's son. "I was nearly frightened into a fit!"
"What was that?" came from several of the others.
"I was cleaning the dishes after breakfast, and I went outdoors to throw
some scraps in a heap behind some bushes. Just as I got there with my
panful of stuff, up jumped--what do you think?--a great big bear!"
"A bear!" shrieked the girls.
"Did you shoot him?" broke in Shadow.
"Shoot him? What with--a frying-pan?"
"Then the bear got away?" asked Roger.
"I don't know whether the bear got away or I got away. I dropped that
frying-pan, and I legged it for the cabin for all I was worth. In the
meantime the bear disappeared among the trees just back of the cabin. I
got my uncle's rifle and went out to look for him, but it was no use."
"O dear, a bear!" murmured Jessie. "Suppose he comes down here?" and she
gave a slight shiver.
"Why, that would be fun!" declared Belle. "I'd like to see that bear,
and get a shot at him, too," went on the girl from Star Ranch.
"If that bear is anywhere in this vicinity we might organize a hunt for
him," suggested Luke, who, on the day previous, had gone out with Ben
and Shadow and brought down a partridge.
"That's the talk!" cried Roger. "Come on, let us go on a hunt! It will
give us something to do."
The matter was discussed for a quarter of an hour, and during that time
Roger and Ben managed to take Phil to one side and tell him about the
news from Crumville. The shipowner's son was, of course, much
astonished.
"I believe it's a fake!" he declared, flatly. "Dave is Dave Porter, and
no mistake! We cleared that matter up directly after our return from the
South Seas."
"Just what I said, Phil," responded Roger. "At the same time, I suppose
the Porters have got to listen to Ward Porton's claim."
"Bah! it's a conspiracy I tell you--a conspiracy gotten up by this
fellow, Porton, and by Link Merwell! You can't tell me any different!"
and Phil's face showed his earnestness.
It was decided that all of the boys should go out directly after lunch,
in a hunt for the bear. The number of shotguns and rifles on hand was
enough to go around, so that each of them would be armed. They also
provided themselves with some provisions, not knowing how late it would
be before they got back.
"Oh, Dave, do be careful!" pleaded Jessie, when the boys were ready to
depart. "Don't let that bear eat you up!"
"Don't worry," he answered. "I'll take care of myself." And then he
added with something of a sigh: "I hope you have good news for me when I
get back."
"I hope so too, Dave. But just remember what I said," she went on,
looking him straight in the eyes. "I'll think just as much of you even
if they prove that you are not Dave Porter."
Phil was with the crowd, and all headed up the brook, and then along the
trail leading to the cabin which had been occupied by Lester Lawrence.
Arriving there, a hunt was made through the forest back of the cabin.
"It's a good deal like hunting for the proverbial needle in a haystack,"
remarked Roger.
"Where did you see the bear last, Phil?" questioned Luke.
"Just about here," was the reply, and the shipowner's son pointed with
his hand. "I think he went in that direction," he added.
The boys spread out in a long, straight line, and in this fashion
proceeded through the forest for the best part of a mile. During that
time they thought they saw a deer in the distance, and Roger might have
taken a shot, but Dave imperatively stopped him.
"We can't shoot at anything if we want to get close to that bear,"
announced our hero. "Bears are very scary creatures, and if you make too
much noise that beast will run for miles and miles before he stops."
Late afternoon found the boys still on the search. They had seen nothing
to shoot at, and some of them were growing disheartened. Luke was
limping slightly, having caught his foot between a crevice in the rocks.
"I move we rest and have something to eat," announced Ben, and this
suggestion was quickly seconded by the others. Then, when the sun was
well down in the west, they decided to turn back toward the bungalows.
It was a tramp of over a mile and a half, and as the footing in many
places was uncertain, they had to proceed with great care.
"Such a hunt!" grumbled Ben. "It's been all hunting and no shooting."
"Which puts me in mind of a story!" cried Shadow. "Oh, this is a short
one, so you needn't frown at it," he went on quickly, glancing around.
"It's about a fellow who came along and saw an old man fishing in a
lake. 'How's fishing?' he asked of the old man. 'Couldn't be better,'
was the answer. 'Catch anything?' 'No.' 'Then what do you mean by saying
the fishing is good?' 'So it is. I didn't say anything about the
catching.'" And at this a grin went around.
"We ought to be getting in sight of the bungalows soon," remarked Roger,
after they had climbed over some rough rocks and were walking through a
dense patch of the forest.
"Say, this is a fine place to get lost in," remarked Phil.
"It will be all right as long as the sunlight lasts," answered Dave. "I
am using that for a compass."
Soon they came to the edge of a clearing, on the other side of which
were a series of rocks with vines and brushwood. The boys were about to
advance across the clearing when suddenly Shadow's arms went up into the
air.
"St--st--stop!" he spluttered, in a low tone. "Dr--dr--drop down, all of
you!"
The others saw that he was much in earnest, and immediately sank down
behind the trees and rocks. Then all gazed inquiringly at the former
story-teller of Oak Hall.
"It's the be--be--bear!" spluttered Shadow. "Sa--say, don't you think we
had be--be--better run for it?"
"The bear! Where is it?" demanded Dave.
"I saw him just lift his head up among the rocks yonder," returned
Shadow. "Say, he looked like an awful big fellow!"
"Well, if he is there, you bet we are not going to run away from him!"
declared Phil. "Come on, let's see if we can't shoot him."
"Wait a minute, Phil," advised Dave. "If the bear is among yonder rocks,
as Shadow says, we had better spread out a little, and thus get a better
chance at him."
Seeing that his companions were not frightened, Shadow regained some of
his composure and followed them, although keeping a little to the rear.
With great caution, and holding their firearms ready for use, the whole
crowd of boys crossed the clearing and gained the first of the rocks
beyond. Fortunately, the breeze was coming from ahead of them, thus
carrying their scent away from where the bear was supposed to be.
It had been agreed that when necessary Dave should give the signal to
fire. He was slightly in advance, and now with great caution he looked
over some rocks just ahead of him. The sight that met his gaze was an
interesting one. There was a slight depression there, partly filled with
brushwood, and in the midst of this stood a big bear. He had his head
down in a hole, and was digging out various things with his forepaws,
flinging them to one side and behind him. Out came a kettle, a
frying-pan, some knives and forks, cups, saucers, a pie-plate, a
dishpan, and numerous other articles, which clattered over the rocks.
"Great hambones, Dave! what kind of a noise is that?" asked Phil, who
was beside our hero.
"It's our stolen stuff, that's what it is, Phil!" cried Dave. "Those
burglars must have thrown the stuff in that hole!"
"But what would the bear be doing among that stuff?" questioned Luke.
"He's after grub," answered our hero. "They must have thrown some of the
food in there with the other stuff. Come on, boys, get ready to fire!"
Fortunately for the lads, the bear was so interested in what he was
trying to accomplish that he did not notice their approach. The noise of
the flying kettles and pans drowned out the voices.
"What's the matter with all taking a shot at him at the same time?"
questioned Phil.
"All right, I'm willing," responded Dave, quickly. "We might as well all
have the glory of killing him--if we have that luck."
Every rifle and every shotgun was quickly raised and aimed at the bear.
Just as Dave was on the point of giving the order to fire, the beast
came out of the hole and looked around. Then in alarm he raised up on
his hind legs, a truly terrifying animal to behold.
Bang! Crack! Bang! went the rifles and shotguns in an irregular volley.
And then, as the report died away, the huge beast gave a leap into the
air, and coming down, sprang directly toward the boys.