BILLY'S NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE
It was dark in the camp, but Billy, as he stole out of the tent,
could distinguish a dark form moving swiftly down the camp street,
and followed without making any noise, taking care to keep as much
as possible in the shadow.
Unless the person he was following should happen to look around,
there was very little danger of his being seen, but he took all the
precautions he could to avoid being detected.
"It is not a thief," he said to himself, "and it isn't any one who
has designs on one of the boats. He left that tent, but who is he
and what does he want?"
The silent figure, moving rapidly forward, presently left the line
of tents, and made for the cottage occupied by the doctor.
"I wonder if it is the doctor walking in his sleep?" thought Billy.
"That would be a great joke, wouldn't it?"
He thought he saw a flash of light for a moment, but was not sure
of this, and hurried on after the midnight prowler, having just time
to see him enter the window of the doctor's cottage.
"Can it be the doctor after all?" he muttered.
"That would be funny after all. I wish I had brought my light
with me. That's just like me, though, thinking of things when it
is too late." He stepped under the front window of the cottage,
through which he had seen the figure disappear and listened:
"I don't hear anything," he muttered. "I wonder if it could have
been the doctor? Burglars would have no good excuse for coming to
the camp. Who is it anyhow?"
Listening intently, he fancied he could hear some one moving about in
the cottage, and then the steps approached the window.
He was about to step back, but was a little too late in that, as he
had been in thinking of his pocket light.
In another moment some one dropped out of the window, and he was
upset most unceremoniously.
The person, whoever it was, had landed on his head and shoulders, and
he was thrown down in an instant.
"Hello! who is that?" he exclaimed, as he felt himself lying on the
bare and rather damp ground.
Some one was struggling to his feet with a startled exclamation, and
Billy snatched quickly at him, and caught a leg or an arm, he could
not be certain which.
"I've got you now!" he cried, "and you've got to give an account of
yourself, my man!"
The stranger, whoever he was, certainly did give an account of
himself, but not in the manner which Billy meant.
There was a sudden shooting out of a brawny fist, and Billy was taken
between the eyes, and for a moment saw stars.
"Ouch!" he ejaculated, letting go of the person he had seized,
Then somebody rolled him over with a quick move of the foot, and by
the time the unfortunate joker arose his nocturnal combatant was out
of sight, as well as hearing.
"H'm! that's too bad!" sputtered Billy. "I don't know now whether
it was a burglar, a nightmare, or what it was. I think I'd better
go back to bed. Being out in the air may have done me a lot of good,
but I guess I've had enough of it."
With this conclusion he set out upon his return, but when he reached
the line of tents was not certain whether he was in the right one
or not, and began studying the appearance of things as much as he
could by the very uncertain light.
"I wonder if this is our street after all?" he asked himself. "Let
me see, we are the sixth tent from the top. Or is it the seventh?
Six one way and seven the other, I guess. Wait till I see."
Then he went on, counting the tents one by one till he came to the
sixth from the start.
The flap was thrown back, and Billy made up his mind that he was at
the right one and went in.
When he found his cot, however, he found some one on it.
"H'm! that's young J.W., and I must not awaken him," he muttered.
As a natural consequence his own cot must be just opposite Jesse
W.'s, and he turned and went in that direction.
To his surprise he found the other cot occupied also.
"Hello, who is that?" asked Harry Dickson.
"It's me," said Billy. "I guess I must have got in the wrong
tent. Have I been walking in my sleep?"
"How should I know?" laughed Harry. "You are in the wrong tent,
that's all I do know. Arthur and I have this tent. Aren't you
in with young Jesse W. Smith?"
"I thought I was," said Billy dolefully, "but I seem to have got
twisted up a bit to-night. I've had the stomach ache."
"That will twist any one," chuckled Harry, "but really it is no
laughing matter, my boy."
"No, I should say not. Well, I think I had better cut my call short.
Would you kindly show me the way to my own tent?"
This was said in such a comical, and at the same time doleful tone,
that Harry was forced to laugh.
"Why, certainly," he chuckled. "You've got on the wrong street, that
is all. You can go through right here without having to go to the
top or bottom and then down or up."
"Who is on the other side of the street?" asked Billy.
"Jones and Robinson."
"H'm! and they are right back of us. All right. I guess I can find
the way now all right."
Then Billy started to go between two tents so as to reach his own on
the next camp street.
"Look out for---"
"Ouch! what's that?"
Harry was about to warn him to look out for the tent ropes, but Billy
tumbled over them before he could be warned.
"I am having all sorts of fun to-night!" he said in a tone of disgust,
as he picked himself up and made his way through to the other street.
Then he found his own tent and went in, but to make sure, even after
he had found his bed unoccupied, got out his pocket light and turned
it on.
"That's all right," he muttered, "but the next time I go wandering
about the camp of a night without a light I'll stay at home!"
Either the light flashing in young J.W. Smith's face or Billy's
mutterings awoke that young gentleman, and he sat up in bed, asking
in a very drowsy tone:
"Is it time to get up, Billy? What's the matter?"
"Oh, nothing, I've been a bit restless, that's all, but I feel
better now, so go to sleep, J.W., and get a good night's rest."
At that moment a distant church clock struck twelve, and then a
rooster crowed.
"H'm! guess it is time I got to sleep!" grunted Billy, as he tumbled
into bed, put out his light and was soon fast asleep.
In the morning when he and young Smith arose, the latter said to him
in some surprise:
"Why, Billy, what is the matter, what have you been doing? You
have got the blackest eye I ever saw on a boy."
"Me?" cried Billy. "Are you sure? Isn't it dirt? Where should
I have been to get a black eye?"
"I am sure I don't know, but that's what it is all right. Look at
it yourself, Billy, and see if it is not."
There was a little looking glass in the tent, and Billy now surveyed
himself in this, finding that young Smith was right, and that he did
have one beautiful black eye, the other being only slightly discolored.
He knew where he had obtained it, but did not think it necessary to
explain the matter to young Smith.
"I'll wait and see who has the most to say about it," he thought,
"and then I will know who it was that I followed last night, who it
was that gave me this lovely decoration."
When he met the boys, however, all of them had something to say, and
Harry said with a laugh:
"You must have got that when you stumbled over the tent rope last
night, Billy."
"Yes, I guess I did," said Billy, but to himself he remarked that now
there was very little chance of learning the truth.