A BIG FISH
“Look at him!” yelled Tom. “What in the world is he doing?”
“Who is he?” inquired Jack.
“Put around!” excitedly yelled Bert. “He’s coming after us!”
The man was swimming directly toward the boat as if he contemplated
an attack, and for a moment, though they knew he could not seriously
harm them, the boys were actually afraid. For the swimmer had a really
ferocious look as he came on through the water. He got to a shallow
place, and stood up, running toward the boys.
“What do you make of this, Tom?” asked Jack.
“I don’t know what to make,” answered Tom, as he turned the boat away
from the man. “But I think I can guess who he is.”
“Who?” cried his three chums.
“That’s the hermit--the wild man--old Wallace--who has been hunting for
the fortune in the mill so long that his mind is affected.”
“By Jove! I believe you’re right,” said Jack.
“But what’s he coming after us for?” asked Dick, for the aged man was
swimming again now, and could not hear the talk in the boat.
“I don’t--” began Tom when the old man interrupted with another of his
wild cries, following it with:
“Get out of this lake! What are you doing here? This is my lake! All
this country around here is mine! Leave at once! Get out of my lake!”
and again he yelled like a madman.
“This is fierce,” said Dick.
“It gets on my nerves,” admitted Tom. “Let’s hurry away. He may swim
out after us so far that he can’t get back again, and I don’t want to
be even indirectly responsible for any harm coming to him.”
“Speed up then,” advised Jack, “and we’ll get so far away that he’ll
see it will be hopeless to keep after us.”
“That’s what I will,” agreed Tom, and, speeding up the motor, the _Tag_
was soon well out in the water.
“Go away! Get out of my lake!” yelled the old man, as he again stood
up in a shallow part, and shook his fist at the boys. “Never come here
again!”
Then he turned and went back toward shore.
“Thank goodness for that,” spoke Tom. “He’s got some sense left,
anyhow.”
“Whew! That was an experience,” remarked Jack, as the boat turned a
point of land, and the hermit was out of sight. “I hope he doesn’t find
our camp.”
“I don’t believe he will,” said Tom. “I guess he was just walking
around, and when he saw the motorboat it sort of frightened him. I
don’t suppose there’s ever been a craft like this on the lake before,
and the old man may have imagined it was some sort of infernal machine.
He came at us if he was going to throw us all overboard.”
“He’s a fierce character,” declared Bert. “The less we see of him the
better.”
“And you don’t catch me monkeying around any mysterious old mill, if a
fellow like that lives in it,” added Dick.
“You said he had a gun, too, didn’t you, Tom?” asked Jack.
“That’s what I heard, but maybe it’s a mistake. He didn’t have one this
time, anyhow.”
The boys discussed their odd experience as they motored along, and soon
they were back where they had left their camp stuff. It had not been
disturbed, and there was no sign that the hermit had taken a short cut
through the woods to get to their location, as Tom had half feared he
might do.
“Now to get busy!” exclaimed our hero as they landed at the improvised
dock. “There’s lots to do. In the first place we’ll have an election.”
“What for?” asked Jack.
“To choose a cook. We’ve got to eat, and some one has to cook. We’ll
take turns at it.”
They selected a cook by the simple process of drawing lots, and the
choice fell upon Dick, who made a wry face about it.
“What’s the matter?” asked Tom, with a laugh.
“I can’t cook a little bit,” was the answer.
“Oh, sure you can,” declared Jack. “Anyhow we’ve only got canned stuff
so far, and you can read the directions and go by them. Start in now
and get us up a meal. I’m hungry.”
“So am I!” came in a chorus from the other two.
“Well, if I’ve got to cook, you fellows have to get wood and water,”
declared Dick. “That’s one of the rules of this camp.”
“All right,” agreed Jack, “only we won’t need wood with our oil stove.
I’ll get you water though,” and he started toward the spring with a
pail.
While Dick was getting out the food, and lighting the stove, Tom and
Bert opened the tents and got ready to set them up. They also laid out
their stores, and planned how they would arrange the camp. When Jack
came back with the water he helped at this work and soon one tent was
set up.
“Dinner!” called Dick, after fussing about the stove for some time.
“What are you going to give us?” asked Tom.
“And what are we going to eat from?” asked Jack. “Where’s your table
cloth? Set out the knives and forks.”
“Table! Table cloth!” exclaimed Dick with a grunt. “Say, if you think
this is a summer hotel you’ve got another guess coming. I’ve broken out
the dishes, and knives, forks and spoons. You can use your lap or a log
for a table, though we charge ten cents extra for logs. The money goes
to found a home for aged cooks.”
“Never mind about that!” exclaimed Tom. “Just give us some grub and
we’ll do the rest.”
“Where’s the bill of fare?” asked Jack. “I’m particular about what I
eat.”
“Soup, corned roast beef, potato chips, bread, butter, jam, condensed
milk and coffee,” rattled off Dick.
“I’ll take it all!” came from Bert.
“Same here!” chorused the other two, and soon the lads were passing
around the food.
“Say, this is all right,” declared Tom, as he tasted the mock-turtle
soup. They had brought along several cases of canned goods, soup among
them.
“It’s easy to make,” explained Dick. “All you do is to open the can,
chuck in some hot water, heat the mixture for a few minutes, and your
soup is made.”
“How about the roast beef?” asked Bert.
“I--er--I boiled that,” explained Dick calmly.
“Boiled it!” cried Tom. “Boiled roast beef! Oh wow!”
“What difference does it make, as long as it’s hot?” demanded the young
cook. “Here, you taste it, and see if it isn’t good. I put some ketchup
on it, and a lot of spices, and it tastes----”
“It must taste like a mixture of Hungarian goulash and Chinese
chop-suey!” laughed Tom. “Boiled roast beef! Oh my stars!”
“Well, you don’t have to eat it,” fired back Dick, as he dished out a
curious mixture. The boys tasted it, and to their surprise it was very
good, or perhaps their appetites made it seem so. Then with bread, jam
and coffee the meal progressed, and they all declared it a good one.
“Now for finishing up the tents, and getting ready for the night,”
suggested Tom.
The cooking tent was put up, with an awning connecting it with the
sleeping quarters, and with a table that was made of pieces of
packing boxes. They had folding cots, and these were set up, and the
bed clothes gotten out. Then each one picked his cot, arranged his
personal belongings near or under it, and the camp was in fairly good
shape.
“And now to begin to enjoy ourselves,” said Tom.
“If only the old hermit doesn’t come puttering around to bother us,”
suggested Jack. “Bur--r--r--r! When I think of the fierce way he
started after us it gives me a cold shiver.”
“He was sort of uncanny,” agreed Bert. “But I guess he won’t bother
us. I don’t know what the rest of you are going to do, but I’m going
fishing. I think some nice fresh fish would be pretty nearly as good
as boiled roast beef. Oh, wait until I tell the fellows about that!”
he laughed. “We’ll have to have it at one of our midnight suppers in
Elmwood Hall.”
“That’s right,” agreed Tom. “But don’t you let ’em worry you, Dick.
You’re doing fine.”
“They can’t worry me,” declared Tom’s country chum. “I can do queerer
stunts in cooking than that. You just wait.”
“Well, if we’re going fishing let’s go,” suggested Jack.
The boys had brought their rods and tackle with them, and soon they had
dug some worms, caught a few grasshoppers, and were casting in from
some rocks and logs on the shore of the lake.
They had been fishing for perhaps half an hour, and no one had had more
than some nibbles, when Jack, who was perched on a high rock, close to
deep water, suddenly felt a jerk on his line.
“A bite! A bite!” he cried. “And a big one, too! Oh, fellows, I’ve got
a dandy. Watch me pull him in!”
His reel was whirring at a fast clip, singing the song of the fish, and
he was holding the butt, and winding in as fast as he could.
There was a splash in the water, and a flash of silver drops as a big
fish broke.
“Give him line! Give him line!” cried Tom.
“Reel in! Give him the butt more,” suggested Dick.
“Pull him in!” yelled Bert.
Jack was working frantically. The big fish leaped and plunged. Suddenly
Jack leaned over a bit too far, lost his balance, and a moment later he
was floundering in the lake.