PREPARING FOR A HUNT
"What's the matter with my hand?" asked Bart holding the gun in the one
that had been injured.
"Why you've taken it from the sling. The blood will rush to it
and--and--"
"Oh, I guess it's all right," spoke Bart carelessly, as he held up the
gun. "You see fellows, this is the patent ejector, and the barrels--"
"Well of all things!" exclaimed Alice. "I spend a lot of time fixing up
your injury and you go and undo all my work in a minute. I never saw
such a boy!"
"How did you hurt yourself?" asked Ned.
"I had just loaded both barrels and put the gun on the table. It fell
off and something hit one of the triggers or the hammers and it banged
out like a cannon. My hand was in the way, that's all."
"Hurt much?" inquired Fenn.
"Not much," was Bart's careless answer.
But an exclamation of pain escaped him as he hit his bruised fingers
against the gun stock.
"There!" exclaimed Alice. "I knew you'd do something wrong. Now I suppose
it will start bleeding again," and she turned back as if to undo the
bandage.
"Never mind!" spoke Bart quickly. "I'll stick some court plaster on if
it does. Say Alice get us some cake and lemonade, please."
Alice agreed and while she prepared the beverage and got some cakes from
the pantry, in which interval the four boys talked nothing but gun,
there is an opportunity of making you better acquainted with them. It's
hard to be introduced to a person when he has sustained a smashed thumb,
so it is, perhaps, just as well that the formal presentation was
postponed until now.
Bart Keene, Ned Wilding, Frank Roscoe and Fenn Masterson, (who was
called Stumpy, for short, because of his rather limited height and
breadth of beam), were four boys who lived in the town of Darewell.
This was located not far from Lake Erie, on the Still River, a stream
in which the boys fished, swam and upon which they spent many hours in
their big rowboat.
With the exception of Frank Roscoe, the boys lived in the heart of the
town. Their parents were fairly well off, and the boys had been chums
since they attended primary school together. In fact, when their
companionship continued on through the grammar school and into the high
school, they became such a town fixture, in a way, that they were known
as "The Darewell Chums."
Those of you who have read the first volume of this series, entitled
"The Heroes of the School," know what sort of lads the four were. Those
of you who are meeting them for the first time may be glad of a little
sketch of their characters.
Frank lived with his uncle, Abner Dent, about a mile out of town. Mr.
Dent was a rich farmer, and Frank had resided with him as long as he
could remember. He could not recall his father or mother, and his uncle
seldom mentioned them. Frank was rather a strange sort of boy. His chums
were very fond of him, but they could not quite make out the curious air
of mystery about him. Frank seemed to have some secret, but his chums
never asked him what it was, though of late years his odd ways, at
times, had attracted their attention.
Ned Wilding was an impulsive, lively chap, full of fun, and given to
playing tricks, which sometimes got him into mischief. He was rather
thoughtless, but never mean, and when his actions did result in trouble
for others Ned was always ready and anxious to make reparation. Ned's
mother was dead and he lived with his father who was cashier of the
Darewell bank.
As for Bart, he was so fond of sports, from baseball and swimming to
snowballing and skating, that he was seldom still long enough to study
his lessons.
Fenn, or Stumpy Masterson, had only one failing as far as his chums were
concerned. He was "sweet" on the girls, as they called it. Fenn would go
to considerable trouble to walk home with a girl. His chums made all
sorts of fun of him, but he did not seem to mind much. His especial
favorite was Jennie Smith, who was quite fond of poetry and who liked to
recite and act.
As told in the first volume, the boys, during the summer preceding the
winter in which this story opens, had taken part in some strange
adventures. They discovered that some men in the neighborhood of the
town were acting very queerly, and they resolved to find what it meant.
One day they went up in a captive balloon at a fair, and the restraining
cable broke. The four chums were carried off in the airship high above
the clouds.
The boys were detained as prisoners aboard a barge on the river,
because it was learned they knew something of the mystery the strangely
acting men were trying to keep hidden. By dint of much pluck and hard
work the boys managed to solve the affair, and, in order to avoid a
law-suit, the men involved offered the boys one thousand dollars each,
in valuable oil stock. This they accepted and their parents and
relatives did not prosecute the men, as they originally intended, for
detaining the boys on the barge.
"Here's the lemonade!" cried Ned, as Alice came in with a big pitcherful
while the chums were examining Bart's gun. He took it from the girl, as
it was quite heavy.
"Now I'll get the cakes and glasses," Alice said.
"Let me help you," begged Fenn.
"Here, you quit that!" called Ned.
"Quit what?"
"Walking downstairs with Alice. I'll tell Jennie on you, Stumpy!"
"Oh, you dry up!" cried Fenn, and, despite the boys' laughter Fenn
accompanied Bart's sister to the next floor, where he got the cake and
glasses.
"Stumpy's as bad as ever," commented Frank. "He reminds me of--" Frank
did not finish his sentence.
"Reminds you of what?" asked Ned. "There you go again, beginning a thing
and not finishing it."
"I guess I'll not say it. Doesn't make any difference," and Frank turned
aside and gazed out of the window.
Bart and Ned looked at each other. It was a peculiarity of Frank's to
begin to say something, and then seem to recollect a matter that made
him change his mind. But his chums were now used to his strangeness.
"Where'd you get that gun, Bart?" asked Fenn as he came in with the
cake.
"Saw it advertised in a catalog, and sent to New York for it."
"How much?"
"Eighteen dollars. It was the first money I used of the thousand I got
from the 'King of Paprica'"--for such was the assumed name of the
principal man in the mystery the boys had cleared up.
"From New York, eh?" spoke Ned. "That reminds me I have an invitation to
visit my uncle and aunt there."
"That's so. You asked us to come and see you," added Bart. "Wish we
could go around Christmas time."
"If the holiday vacation was longer maybe we could," remarked Ned.
"Speaking of holidays, what's the matter with going hunting the end of
next week?" asked Bart. "I've got my gun, and you fellows have your
small rifles."
"I can borrow a shotgun," put in Fenn.
"This is Thursday," went on Bart. "School closes to-morrow for the
Thanksgiving celebration. Let's see, Thanksgiving is a week from to-day.
That would give us three days counting Monday, when we can start off.
Why not go on a shooting trip and stay a couple of nights in the woods?
It's not very cold, and we could take plenty of blankets."
"The very thing!" cried Ned.