THE DANGERS OF THE MUCK HOLE
"Where are you?" called Bones, as he and Frank pushed forward in
the gathering dusk.
"Here! Be mighty careful, fellows, or you'll get in too!" came the
answer, not far away.
"Told you so," remarked the doctor's son, with a little laugh;
"poor Ralph; I pity him, because I've been there myself. When I
come alone out here I always carry a short rope along. If I get
stuck it helps me out."
"A rope? How under the sun can that help?" demanded a voice close
by; showing that they were very near the boy who was stuck in the
ooze, and also that he was alive to the inconvenience of his
position.
"Why, you see, in most cases there's a limb of a tree hanging
over, and it's dead easy to throw the rope across it. After that,
one can pull out, unless he's allowed himself to sink too deep.
Got a match with you, Frank?" asked Bones.
"Lots. I've found them handy on too many occasions lately to go
without. Here you are, Bones. Going to make a fire, are you?" and
Frank, bending down, commenced to assist in gathering some dead
leaves together.
"Well," replied the other, "we ought to have some light to see how
to work him free. It would be a tough joke if the whole bunch of
us got stuck. I don't hanker after such an experience. Things are
pretty dry up here, so we must be careful not to let the blaze
spread any."
The fire was quickly a positive fact, and being fed with some
small branches it leaped up grandly. In this fashion the entire
neighborhood was illuminated.
Frank looked around. The sight was peculiar, and as the marsh ran
into an actual swamp, he thought he had seldom seen a more weird
effect. Still, what interested him most of all was the picture of
Ralph, up to his knees in the soft slime that lay concealed under
the dead leaves and green scum.
"I've tried all I could to get out, fellows, but the worst of it
is, when I lift one foot the other only goes that much deeper
down. If a fellow could only get hold of enough stuff to make a
sort of mattress he might roll over on it and do the trick that
way. I'd be trying that if I had daylight, and was alone here,"
remarked the imprisoned boy, calmly.
"Say, I never thought of that. It's a clever idea, all right. Next
time I get stuck I'm going to see how it works," remarked Bones.
"Why not now, since you haven't your rope along. Here's just the
ticket--some old fence rails lying in a heap. Cheer up, comrade,
we'll have you out of that in a jiffy now," sang out Frank,
seizing one of the long, cast-off rails, and dropping it on the
surface of the muck.
Bones fell to along side, and between them they speedily formed a
regular corduroy road out to where Ralph stood, watching the
building with interest.
One of them got on either side. Then, with the aid of other rails
they pried Ralph loose, so that he could crawl over to the
"mattress," and get secure footing. After that nothing was needed
but to walk ashore.
"I'm a fine sight, mud up to my knees, my hands full, and I tell
you, it isn't just as sweet as it might be," lamented Ralph, as he
started to scrape himself off with a splinter.
"Hold on, we'll play valet to you. Take that leg, while I manage
this one, Frank," observed Bones, who was really enjoying seeing
some other fellow in the same mussy condition that had been his
lot more than once.
They scraped so well that presently Ralph declared he felt quite
presentable once more.
"But I'll make sure to let nobody see me in this condition," he
added; "and this pair of trousers will have to go to the cleaner's
Monday morning, you bet."
"Well, are we off now?" asked Frank, as he started to make sure
that the fire was extinguished to the last spark.
"That's the ticket, Frank," observed Bones, approvingly, "I like a
fire all right, but hate to see it burning up a marsh or a woods.
Had one little experience that I aint going to forget in a hurry.
I guess she'll do now. Let's shoulder our game and make tracks for
the farmhouse. Supper will be ready, I suppose."
"Supper?" echoed Ralph.
"Why, sure. You didn't suppose I meant that we'd go hungry when I
invited you to come up here for a little relaxation, after our big
strain this morning? Benson promised to have something for us.
They're only plain country folks, you know, so don't expect much
style, fellows."
"Style!" exclaimed Ralph, with a snort, "do I look like I could
put on a heap, with these mussed-up trousers? All I ask is a
chance to wash my hands and face. But it was mighty good of you
thinking of the grub part, Bones."
"I don't see how. I always eat with Benson when I come up here for
a shoot. It was only a case of selfishness. Say, this is something
of a load--four apiece all around, and they're heavy chaps, too.
This one is so fat he actually burst when he fell."
"But I have no use of any game. Perhaps you'd better give the
farmer my share, for his kindness," suggested Ralph.
"That's nice of you, old fellow. And I'll take you up on it, too.
Benson has no time to shoot, and I don't believe he knows how; but
all the same he does like a taste of game, to sort of change the
bill of fare. Follow me, now, for the house."
Bones led the way, and presently they arrived at the farmhouse, a
low-roofed building, where light gleamed cheerily in the small
windows. Benson had a wife and several small children. The table
was set, country fashion, right at one end of the big kitchen, and
the odors that greeted the hungry and cold boys as they entered
certainly promised an appetizing repast.
Ralph was soon made happy with a tin basin and a bucket of water.
He managed to repair damages pretty well, and was only too willing
to respond to the farmer's hearty invitation to take a chair and
"set-to."
Perhaps it was their sharp-set appetites that made them think the
food tasted unusually fine. No matter, there was a great
abundance, and by the time they got up from the table every fellow
declared he could not eat another mouthful if he were paid for it.
"I'll have your rig at the door in short order," declared Benson,
as he went out with a lantern.
With a ten-mile drive, and a horse far from fresh, Bones had
decided that they would do well to start without any delay. He had
tried out his gun, and was satisfied; while on Frank's part, he
rejoiced in the fact that he would be away from town while all the
glorification was going on.
"Hold on, Mr. Benson, that's enough. Eight is all we want to take
back with us. Ralph here is boarding and has no use for his share.
So he asks you to accept it," called out Bones, as the farmer
started to toss the game in the back part of the doctor's buggy.
"That's kind o' him, and I'm sure much obliged. We don't get any
too much game up here, close as we are to the marsh. I'm too busy,
you see, and then besides, I never was a great hand to shoot. In
summer I pull in quite some fish at odd times, and that's all the
sport I take."
It was about eight o'clock when they finally left the farmhouse.
The good wife and the three children called out good-bye, as Bones
chucked to the horse, and they were off.
"It won't be so awful dark on the road, for there's a half moon
peeping out up yonder behind those clouds," said Frank.
"Glad of that," returned Bones, who was doing the driving,
"because you see, the road is pretty rough till we get on the main
one, and if it was pitch dark we might stand for getting tumbled
into a ditch alongside. There are same nasty places I've got to
look out for. I know them pretty well though; ought to, for I've
been in two of 'em."
"We'll help you look out then. I wouldn't hanker after a tumble
into a muddy ditch just now," laughed Frank.
"Think of me, fellows! Why, my lower extremities are still damp
from one trip. That was bad enough, but think of going in head
first! Ugh! excuse me, if you please!" groaned Ralph.
They made out to get along with little or no trouble. The horse
kept the middle of the road as a rule, and three pair of keen eyes
were quite enough to pilot the vehicle along toward the junction
of the two thoroughfares.
When the firmer road was reached Bones declared he was glad.
"Now we needn't worry, boys. Get-up, Strawberry; it's home for you
and another measure of oats. I had the farmer give him only a
small quantity. Keep a horse a bit hungry if you want him to
hustle for home," he remarked.
"Sounds reasonable at any rate, Bones. And Strawberry is doing
pretty good hustling right now, considering the heavy condition of
our weight, in the way of game. My folks will think I'm something
on the shoot, I guess," remarked Frank, humorously.
"You really got seven--" began Ralph, when his friend interrupted.
"Never mind about that. One fellow is always lucky above the rest.
Never knew it to fail. To-day it might be me, to-morrow you. So it
goes. Forget it, both of you."
Ralph said nothing more. He knew the nature of his chum, and that
Frank had not a selfish bone in his body. If there was any sport
going around he wanted every one to have their full share of it,
nor could he rest happy unless this were so.
They had passed over several miles of the main road, and all of
them were somehow feeling a bit drowsy from their unusual
exertions of the day, when, without warning, the horse snorted
and came to a full stop.
"What's this mean?" demanded Bones, in astonishment.
"There's something on the road ahead of us," declared Ralph,
bending forward in order to see the better, for the shadows fell
across the tree-bordered pike.
"I'm not sure," ventured Frank, "but it seems like some sort of
vehicle to me. Perhaps there's been an accident. Wait while I jump
out and go to see!"