A HUT IN THE WOODS
The boys tried to learn in which direction the old man had gone, but he
was not in sight. They listened to hear if he was tramping through the
bushes, but there was not a sound.
"Looks as though he went through a hole in the earth," spoke Fenn. "But
never mind. His keepers are probably after him. He seems harmless
enough."
"Sometimes that's the worst kind," commented Ned. "We had better be on
the lookout for him. He might come upon us unexpectedly."
But the boys reached the Riffles a little while after this, and, in the
excitement of hauling out a number of fish, for the sport was good, they
forgot about the queer old man.
"I wonder who he could have been?" asked Frank, after a silence of half
an hour following the landing of several chub and perch.
"Who?" asked Ned.
"The King of Paprica."
"Oh, him. I'd forgotten all about it. What makes you keep thinking of
it?"
"I can't help it," replied Frank, so solemnly that his chums looked at
him in some surprise.
"I believe there is something about that man which will bear
investigating. No one ever heard of a crazy person being loose in these
woods before, and there's no lunatic asylum near by from which he could
have escaped. I tell you it looks queer."
"Sometimes lunatics travel hundreds of miles," put in Bart. "I read of
one, once, that escaped, and was found a good while afterward in some
place in Europe."
"Say, did we come here to talk about odd folks or to fish?" asked Ned
somewhat sharply. "If we're going to fish let's do it. All this talk
will scare 'em away."
"That's what I say," added Fenn. "Let's finish up and go home."
"Got a date to take a walk and gather wild flowers with some girl,
Stumpy?" asked Frank.
"Well, it's as much fun as talking about a crazy man," retorted Fenn.
"Whoop! I've got a big one!" ejaculated Ned, and he pulled a wiggling
beauty ashore.
It was the best catch so far, and the other boys congratulated Ned on
his luck. Several other large-sized fish were pulled out after that
until the boys' baskets were nearly full.
"Haven't we got plenty?" asked Frank. "Let's quit and eat."
"Good enough!" exclaimed Bart. "I've got a vacancy just beneath my
belt," and he patted the region of his stomach in a suggestive manner.
Frank, who had charge of the lunch basket, into which the boys had put
what they had brought from home, opened it. As he was handing around the
sandwiches there was a noise in the bushes behind where the lads were
seated. They started, thinking it might be the strange man again, but
they were relieved when they saw it was Jim Nelson, who had the
reputation of being the laziest boy in town.
"Hello, Jim," called Ned.
"Um," grunted Jim. It seemed too much of an effort to speak. "Bait?" he
asked, with a motion toward his own fishing tackle which he carried over
his shoulder.
"Well, if you aren't the limit!" exclaimed Ned. "You started off fishing
and depended on finding some one to lend you the bait. Too lazy to dig
it, I suppose?"
"Tired," responded Jim, as if that explained it all. "Throw over," he
added, which the boys construed into a request that the bait can be
passed over, since Jim had flopped down in a comfortable attitude on the
bank.
"The very nerve of you makes you a delight," spoke Bart as he tossed the
tin can where Jim could get it. The bait fell a little out of the lazy
lad's reach. Instead of getting up for it he looked around in search of
a stick with which he could poke it toward himself. There was one near
his foot.
Jim reached out until he could touch the tree branch with the toe of his
shoe. Then he manipulated the little club until he could get his fingers
on it, which took several minutes. Once it was in his hands he managed
to reach the bait can and drew it toward him. All this while he was
stretched out on his back.
Still in this position he baited his hook and then, without looking to
see where it landed, he threw the weighted line in the direction of the
river. The hook struck just on the edge of the bank on which Jim
reclined, but he could not see this and thought it had dropped into the
water. The chums looked on at this exhibition of laziness, though it was
no new thing to them.
"Think you'll catch anything, Jim?" asked Frank.
"Hope not, have to pull it in, and I'm tired," responded the recumbent
lad.
"Oh, we'll do it for you," said Bart.
"Um," grunted Jim, that probably being his thanks.
The four comrades were munching their sandwiches, and once in a while
Jim would turn his head and look at them. He was hungry but too lazy to
ask for something to eat.
"Watch me," whispered Ned to his companions, and then he prepared to
tantalize Jim.
Ned took a piece of cake and tied it to a string. The cord he fastened
to the end of his fishing pole and then, moving silently through the
bushes, he took a position directly behind Jim, and some distance away.
Slowly Ned raised the pole with its dangling string and bit of cake
until the latter was poised right over Jim's head. Then he slowly
lowered the dainty until it was within a few inches of Jim's mouth.
"A new way to feed lazy folks," observed Bart in a low tone.
The cake was held there a few minutes, but Jim seemed unaware of its
presence. Ned could not understand it. Then Fenn looked over and saw
that Jim was asleep.
"Can't have the trick spoiled that way," murmured Frank, and tossed a
little pebble that hit Jim on the face. The lazy boy opened his eyes,
and saw the choice bit of cake directly over his mouth. It was coming
right down to him, after the manner in which cocoanuts, bananas and
oranges are said to drop into the hands of the happy dwellers in
tropical climes.
"Now for some fun," whispered Fenn.
The cake was almost in Jim's mouth. He opened his jaws. A happy look
came over his face. He had his lips on the dainty, when, with a quick
motion, Ned jerked it away.
Jim was so surprised he did not know what to do. The disgusted look on
his face made the other boys burst into a roar of laughter. Jim raised
himself on his elbow and looked at the conspirators.
"Um!" he ejaculated. He was too lazy to get mad. Then he went off in
another doze.
Ned went back to join his companions, all of them still laughing at the
joke.
"Let's make him believe he's caught something," suggested Fenn. "Tie
something to his line."
"It's your turn," spoke Ned, and Fenn nodded assent.
He made his way quietly down the bank until he could pull Jim's hook
from the water which just touched it. He fastened something to it and
then gave the line a sudden yank. Jim had the pole tied to his wrist to
prevent a possible big fish from taking it away from him as he slept,
and Fenn's jerk awakened him.
"Got one," announced Jim, not bothering to sit up straight. Then he
began to pull in. The line came up with a suddenness that surprised him,
as Fenn let go, and an old rubber boot, that Stumpy had attached, flew
over and struck the lazy lad in the face.
"It's a whopper!" he cried until he saw what it was. Then, with a
disgusted look at the plotters he turned over and went to sleep again.
"What can you do with a fellow like that?" asked Ned appealing to his
chums.
"Death will never overtake him," replied Frank. "It will pass him on the
road, thinking Jim has already passed in. He certainly is the last word
in laziness."
The four comrades decided they had enough fishing for the day, so,
putting away their tackle and adding some fresh wet grass to the baskets
of fish in order to keep them cool, they started for home.
"Let's take the short cut," suggested Frank. "Right through the woods."
"Do you know it?" asked Ned. "I nearly got lost once, going that way."
"I guess I can pick it out."
So they began their tramp. But they had not gone more than a mile along
the half-discernable path before Frank, who was in the lead, uttered an
exclamation.
"See a snake?" asked Bart.
"No, but here's a hut that I never noticed before," was Frank's answer.
"I wonder if I am on the wrong path. It looks right but I never saw this
shack."
The boys gathered around him. On one side of the path, in a little
clearing, half hidden among the trees, was a small log cabin. It looked
as though it had always been there, but the boys were sure it must have
been erected recently.
"There's something painted over the door," said Bart.
The boys looked. There, in brilliant red letters, were the words:
_KING OF PAPRICA_