A QUIET, TRANQUIL SUNDAY
A great bull-frog whose hoarse croaking could always be heard above
other sounds about the lake, "beginning at exactly eleven o'clock
each night"--at least so Paul Jones positively stated--had started his
unmelodious serenade a long time before the Auto Boys and their visitor
prepared for bed. Paul's adventure, Chip Slider's whole story and the
combined information thus afforded had proved a most fruitful field for
speculation and conversation.
A bed for Slider was contrived by spreading over some hemlock boughs a
tarpaulin used on the car for covering baggage. A bucket-seat cushion from
the car served quite nicely as a pillow. Indeed Chip had not for a long
while had so comfortable a resting place, crude as it was.
The plans for the night's sleeping arrangements were seized upon by
Phil as an opportunity of finding out whether the strange boy had any
knowledge of the recent robbery of the camp. With this in view his
remarks about a scarcity of blankets and his inquiries as to where Chip
had been managing to find accommodations were adroitly framed. Quite
perfectly he succeeded in gaining the knowledge desired, nor did Slider
ever suspect that the Auto Boys' suspicions might very easily have been
directed toward him.
It was truly pitiable to hear Chip tell how in the night he had stood off
a distance in the woods, taking note of the bright campfire of the four
friends; how he had smelled their frying bacon when all he had to eat was
a little dry bread; how he had been tempted to apply at the camp for food
and shelter, but was afraid; how he had spent one whole evening within
sight of the cheerful light about the shack, because it was a kind of
company for him, and he slipped away and made his bed in the dead leaves
beside a log when at last the campfire had quite died down.
Yet very interesting, too, was all that Chip told. One certain fact made
clear was that he had nothing to do with the theft of provisions and other
items from the camp. When this was fairly plain Phil Way ventured the
remark that Murky had possibly fared better in the woods than Slider had
done.
"No denyin' it," Chip assented. "I found his hang-out only yesterday. It
would put you in mind of a bear's den, most, to see it."
"Tell all about it," urged Phil. "I'd like to smoke him out, like we would
a woodchuck," he added with bitter earnestness.
"Nothin' much to it," answered Slider, but he went on promptly to report
what he had seen and the manner of his discovery. He had been in search
of berries, or whatever he could find for food, he said, for his slender
store of provisions was nearly gone.
As he approached a marshy place where he thought he might find
huckleberries, or blueberries, he discovered Murky there ahead of him. He
had known the evil fellow was in the woods. He had watched him
frequently, believing he might learn something of the stolen payroll
money or at least what was going on so secretly about the old clubhouse.
Carefully keeping himself out of sight, Chip had followed when Murky left
the marsh. The latter walked directly to a thicket on a knoll, went in
among the bushes and disappeared. Then for a long time Slider patiently
waited. He wondered if the treasure he was seeking might not be hidden
in the copse.
Toward evening Murky left the thicket and slipped away in the direction of
the point of land occupied by the clubhouse. Improving this opportunity
Slider cautiously visited the brush-covered knoll. There he found the
tramp's den--a nest of leaves and pine needles and branches between
two logs. Poles laid across the logs and covered over with branches
made a roof for the den. Merely as a place to sleep the nest looked
snug enough, Chip said.
"Didn't see any blankets or dishes, did you?" Dave asked.
Indeed he had seen these very things, Slider answered, and had wondered
how Murky came by them. He thought they probably had been taken from the
clubhouse.
A complete quartette of voices answered this remark, setting Chip right
as to the real ownership of the items mentioned. For not one of the four
friends doubted now that it was Murky and no one else who had stolen
their equipment and provisions. Considering the unscrupulous character
of the fellow, they only wondered that he had not plundered the camp
completely, leaving them nothing of value. It did not occur to them that
probably the thief really wished to take more than he did, but could not
conveniently carry a greater load.
It was a matter of congratulation among the boys that they had not, by
leaving the camp again unguarded, given Murky a chance to return. They
were more certain than ever now that some one of them must be always
in attendance about the shack, and it would have needed very little to
persuade them, also, that despite Opal Lake's many attractive features
their best course would be to pull up stakes and bid its shores good-bye.
Even after all were in bed this feature of their situation was discussed
to some extent. Two main reasons for wishing to occupy the present camp,
for yet a few days, were suggested. One was that in another week they
must head the Thirty homeward and it was therefore hardly worth while to
search out a more secure and less frequented locality for a camp site.
For reason number two there was the lively interest in the outcome of
the search for the Grandall payroll money, and an earnest wish to help
Chip Slider find the treasure, if possible, and return it to the rightful
owners,--the members of the club which had been practically broken up by
its twenty thousand dollar loss, as many a larger organization might be.
Quite as usual Paul's voice was the last one heard when the discussion
closed and the quiet of midnight settled over the forest. All had been
silent for some time. Slider had expressed in his grateful, however
awkward, way his appreciation of the offer his new friends made to
help him. And Phil Way, answering for all the boys, said there was no
obligation at all and no thanks necessary,--that nothing had been done,
as yet, at least.
"Anyhow, it seems to me," said Paul, after a long silence, "It seems to
me as if we were all going to have our hands full. There will be Murky and
Grandall and Nels Anderson digging into this mystery just as hard as we
can, and maybe harder. And they are all bad ones, all of 'em, unless maybe
Anderson might not be so really bad excepting for being hooked up with a
bad outfit, and all that."
No comment being made by the others with regard to these remarks, Jones
went on to say that if there was any advantage to be had by having right
and justice on their side, fortune ought to favor Slider and his friends
in the search to be carried forward. He reasoned it all out, too, to his
own satisfaction, that in the end justice must prevail in all things or
the whole world would ultimately go to smash. "And that's a fact, now,
ain't it?" he asked.
There came no answer.
"Well, is it, or don't it, wasn't it!" inquired Paul, rather facetiously.
Still no answer. Jones raised himself up on his elbow. He listened. It
was perfectly evident from the heavy breathing all about him that every
one of the other lads was sound asleep and had been for some time.
"Why! The bing-dinged mummies!" he exclaimed, "and me talking till I'm
all but tongue-tied--and to no one!" he added indignantly.
Having heard how Slider slept in the open woods with not even a cover
over him more than leaves, the Auto Boys would have been ashamed now to
feel afraid in their snug shack, no matter what strange noises might come
from the lake's dark shore lines. And though the sounds of various wild
creatures coming to bathe or drink did reach the lads, as occasionally
one or more of them awakened during the night, no heed was given the
disturbers. It was enough to know that the exceeding drouth brought
animals from long distances to the water's edge and that they were much
more intent on drinking than having trouble with anyone or even among
themselves.
Not because it was Sunday morning but due quite entirely to their having
retired so late, the Auto Boys slept longer than was their custom. Poor
Chip Slider awakened with the first peep of daylight, really tremendously
surprised to find himself in such comfortable quarters. With a sigh of
exquisite content and satisfaction he at once dropped off to sleep again.
With the exception of the night at the bachelor's shanty he had not
known such sweet and unbroken rest for--it seemed to him almost his
whole lifetime.
And then again, if Chip had wondered whether there might be kindness,
cheerfulness and plenty to eat somewhere in the world, as he most
certainly often had done, he must surely have found the answer now. For
when he awoke again the rich aroma of boiling coffee and cheering
scent of frying bacon greeted him. From the beach down by the lake,
too, there came lively laughter and a great splashing of water.
"Skip down and dive in! Paddle around some, then rub down lively!" urged
Billy Worth, who, having had his plunge, was now nimbly getting breakfast.
"Makes a man feel dandy!" he urged, really thinking that a bath would do
Chip good, anyway. "And hold on!" he added. "Here's soap and a towel if
you care for 'em."
Slider was by no means afraid of the water. He was glad of the chance
to take a swim and had the sound sense to realize, as well, that he
stood much in need of a vigorous scrubbing. He hurried down to the water
zestfully, albeit rather lamely for his body was stiff and sore. Paul
made him feel at home at once by turning a back flip-flop off the now
completed raft for his especial benefit. He asked Chip to follow suit,
but the latter only smiled and dove off forward, instead.
"Being around the woods as much as you have been, you'll hardly have a
change of clothes with you, but here's a shirt I'll never need, and you
can keep it if you'll accept it from me," said Phil Way in a pleasant,
off-hand manner, when he and Chip were dressing. It was a friendly yet
delicate way of getting the young stranger into one garment, at least,
that was clean and whole.
The boy could not refuse nor did he wish to do so. Though he was
sensitive, his feelings were not injured. Nor were his pride and
manliness hurt at all. It was just because he was not permitted to feel
that he was in any degree an object of charity.
True, Chip had begged for food along the road. One would think that did
not indicate much pride on his part; but it should be remembered that
asking for aid among strangers is very different from receiving anything
as charity from those one considers his friends.
With such a beginning the Auto Boys and their new acquaintance found
Sunday passing very pleasantly. They wrote letters, took long walks about
the lake and Phil and Paul took Chip for a ride in the car, going almost
to Anderson's cabin before turning back.
This put the boys in mind of the tree that had been shivered by the mighty
blow of the great Swede. After dinner all but Dave walked out to the end
of the gravel road improvement to inspect the spot again and particularly
to see the slivered stump on which Anderson's sledge had fallen with such
mighty force.
Here, it developed, Slider had made his headquarters, so far as he may be
said to have had anything of the kind in the woods. He had kept his stock
of food here, hidden in a weather-beaten cracker box, that some teamster
had used in feeding his horses. But there was no food left now, Chip
explained. Then he added that but for falling in with his new friends
he would have been obliged to abandon, for the time, at least, his search
for the stolen fortune. The few berries he could find would not have been
enough to sustain him. He had eaten even the stray stalks of stunted
corn that grew up where horses, used in the road building, had been fed.
MacLester had remained on guard in camp while the others were out upon the
old roadway. The latter returned to find him perched on the log projecting
over the water, scrutinizing the Point and the old house there closely.
"Hang it!" declared David forcefully, "I wish we hadn't agreed that we
wouldn't go near the clubhouse today. I've seen a man moving about over
there. He came out on the porch toward the lake, once, and after looking
all around he stepped down to that rotten old wharf and threw something
into the water."
"Gee whiz!" Paul Jones burst forth, "was it the same man we saw before?"
"Yes, the one with the golf cap," MacLester said. "When he went inside
he went upstairs and closed that window that has been open. He acted as if
he was getting ready to go away."