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FENN MASTERSON'S
DISCOVERY
Or
The Darewell Chums
on a Cruise
BY
ALLEN CHAPMAN
AUTHOR OF "BART STIRLING'S ROAD TO SUCCESS," "WORKING
HARD TO WIN," "BOUND TO SUCCEED," "THE YOUNG
STOREKEEPER," "NAT BORDEN'S FIND," ETC.
[Illustration: _The_
GOLDSMITH
_Publishing Co._
CLEVELAND OHIO
MADE IN U.S.A.]
COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. AN AUTOMOBILE ACCIDENT 1
II. A MYSTERIOUS CAVE 11
III. SAVING THE AUTO 22
IV. PLANNING A CRUISE 30
V. CAPTAIN WIGGS'S PROPOSAL 39
VI. IN PERIL 45
VII. AN ELEVATOR BLAZE 52
VIII. FENN HEARS SOMETHING 61
IX. OFF AGAIN 71
X. THE CHASE 78
XI. ON LAKE HURON 85
XII. NED GETS A FISH 92
XIII. CAUGHT IN THE LOCK 99
XIV. MYSTERIOUS STRANGERS 108
XV. A QUEER FIND 115
XVI. FIRE ON BOARD 123
XVII. A STRANGE VISION 133
XVIII. AN EXPLORING PARTY 140
XIX. FENN BECOMES ILL 147
XX. OUT ON A HUNT 155
XXI. THE CHINESE BUTTON 162
XXII. FENN'S MISHAP 171
XXIII. THE SEARCH 180
XXIV. FENN IS CAPTURED 188
XXV. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 194
XXVI. FENN'S ODD DISCOVERY 202
XXVII. A TIMELY RESCUE 213
XXVIII. RUTH TELLS HER SECRET 220
XXIX. A BAFFLING SEARCH 230
XXX. THE DISCOVERY--CONCLUSION 239
FENN MASTERSON'S DISCOVERY
CHAPTER I
AN AUTOMOBILE ACCIDENT
"Hello!" exclaimed Fenn Masterson, as he opened the front door of his
home, in response to a ring, and admitted his chum, Bart Keene. "Glad to
see you, Bart. Come on in."
"What's the matter with you?" demanded Bart, throwing a strap full of
books into a corner of the hall, as if he cared very little for the
volumes. "Why weren't you at school to-day, Stumpy?"
"Oh, I was a little hoarse this morning--"
"What are you now; a mule?" inquired Bart.
"No--Oh, hang it, you know what I mean--"
"Sure!" interrupted Bart. "You slept in a stable last night, and, when
you woke up you were a little horse. I know."
"I had a little cold this morning," went on Fenn. "Mother made me stay
home. Thought I was going into consumption, I guess. I'm all right now."
"Gee, I wish my mother had made me stay home to-day," proceeded Bart.
"The algebra lesson was fierce. We all slumped."
"What! You don't mean to say the professor floored Frank Roscoe?" and
Fenn looked much surprised.
"Yes, and Ned Wilding, too. I tell you, Stumpy, it was a good thing you
slept in that barn and became a little horse, or you'd have gone down to
defeat on that problem about multiplying sixteen x, y, z's by the square
root of the difference between--"
"Pooh! That's easy," declared Fenn. "I remember it."
"Easy? Here, let's see you do it!" exclaimed Bart, and he grabbed the
bundle of books and proceeded to take out the algebra.
"Never mind--there's no hurry about it. I'll show you later," spoke Fenn.
"Besides, I've got to take my cough medicine now. Come on up to my room."
"Cough medicine?" repeated Bart, with a reproachful look at his chum.
"Yes, cough medicine," answered Stumpy, seeing that his visitor rather
doubted him. "Mom made me take it. It's awful nasty stuff, full of tar
and horehound and pine--ugh! I hate it."
"Moral, don't try to fool your mother and pretend you have a sore throat,
when you don't want to go to school for an algebra exam.," said Bart
solemnly.
"No, honest, I did have a sore throat this morning," declared Fenn.
"It's all better now. I guess I don't have to take that medicine. But
come on up to my room. I've just got a fine collection of minerals."
"Minerals?"
"Yes, I'm going to collect them now. I sent for a small case, of various
kinds, and I'm going to add to it. There are lots of minerals in this
section of the state."
"Let's see, the last thing you were collecting was Indian arrow heads,"
said Bart, in musing tones; "before that it was postage stamps, and
before that, postmarks. Then, once, I remember, it was jackknives, and
before that--"
"Oh, let up!" begged Fenn. "Are any of the other fellows coming over?"
"Before that it was butterflies," went on Bart relentlessly. "I guess
your mineral collecting craze will last about as long as any of the
others, Stumpy."
"Well, all the others were too much trouble," declared Fenn, trying to
justify himself. "It's no fun to be sticking stamps and postmarks in a
book, and I had to chase all over the country after butterflies."
"To say nothing of getting on bad terms with half the boys in the school
for trading them poor knives for good ones, when you had that craze,"
remarked Bart.
"Oh, I intend to make a fine collection of minerals," declared Fenn.
"I'll not get tired of that. You see minerals are easy to get. All you
have to do is to pick up stones as you walk along. You put them in your
pockets and, when you get home, you look in the catalog, see what kind
they are, so as to label 'em, and put 'em in one of the little numbered
squares of the cabinet. Why, collecting minerals is fun. Besides, it's
valuable information. I might discover--"
"Sure, of course. Oh, yes--you might discover a gold mine or a hole
filled with diamonds!" interrupted Bart. "Oh, Stumpy, I'm afraid you're
a hopeless case."
"Wait until you see my minerals," asserted the stout youth, as he led
the way up to his room. "When are the other fellows coming over?"
"Oh, Ned'll be along right away. Frank Roscoe said he had to go on an
errand for his father. They both are anxious to see what sort of a game
you worked so's to stay home to-day. They might want to try it
themselves."
The two chums were soon busy inspecting the case of stones which Fenn
had bought. There were small samples of ore, spar, crystals and various
queer rocks.
"There's a piece of stone I found out near the river," said Fenn,
pointing to a fragment of a bright red color. "Maybe it's a new kind
of ruby. I'm going to show it to a jeweler."
"It's red glass!" declared Bart.
"It is not!"
"I tell you it is! Look, it's a piece of a bottle. You can see where it
curved for the bottom," and he pointed it out to Fenn.
"I guess you're right," admitted the collector, as he tossed the red
object away. "Never mind, I'll get some good specimens yet. Hello,
there's Ned's whistle," and he looked out of the window, which, as it
was late in June, was wide open. "Come on up, Ned!" he called, "Bart's
here!"
"Coming!" cried Ned. "Lower the drawbridge and raise the portcullis!
Lord Mount Saint Dennis Morency Caldwalder de Nois approaches!"
"Yes, I guess it is 'De Noise' all right," murmured Bart. "Since he's
been studying French history he's been getting off such nonsense as that
every chance he has."
"Greeting, fair and noble sirs!" cried Ned Wilding, reaching the door of
Fenn's room, for, like the other chums, he had the run of the house,
"greeting, most noble lords of the high justice, the middle and the low.
I give thee greeting!"
"And I give thee that!" interrupted Bart, putting out his foot, and,
with a sly motion, upsetting Ned as he was making a low, exaggerated
bow.
"First down! Ten yards to gain!" he cried good-naturedly, as he arose,
for Ned was a lively, quick-witted youth, full of fun, and never serious
for more than a minute at a time.
"I hope that jarred some of the foolishness out of you," observed Bart.
Suddenly a head was poked in the open window, and a voice exclaimed:
"Gentlemen, allow me to introduce myself. I am the original and only
genuine second-story burglar!"
"Frank Roscoe!" exclaimed Fenn. "How did you get there?"
"Climbed up over the porch," replied the newcomer. "I rang the bell
until I was tired, and nobody answered."
"That's so, I forgot. Mother's out this afternoon and there's no one
down stairs. But why didn't you do as Ned did, walk in? The door's not
locked. I didn't hear you ring."
"I prefer this method of stealing into houses," replied Frank, a tall
dark youth, as he bounded from the window sill into the room. "It's more
romantic. Besides I needed exercise, and it was easy climbing up the
porch pillar."
"Don't give us any romance," begged Bart.
"No, don't," advised Ned, rubbing his thigh where he had come down
rather heavily. "The days of romance are dead."
"That's not the only thing that's dead in this town," put in Fenn.
"Things are getting rather dull. We need some excitement to keep us
awake."
The two newcomers soon learned the reason for Fenn's absence from school
that day. They examined his cabinet of minerals and made more or less
sarcastic comments about his new fad.
"Yes," went on Bart, after a pause. "I wish we could have some fun, as
we did when we were off camping in the woods, last summer."
"And rescued Frank's father from that sanitarium," put in Ned.
"Well, we had a pretty lively time when you slipped off to New York, and
the lodging-house keeper held you a prisoner, Ned," said Bart. "You had
some romance then."
"Not the right kind," declared Ned. "I'd like some more fun such as we
had when the King of Papricka tried to fool us."
"Sure! When we got carried away in the captive balloon," added Frank.
"That was a time!"
"And do you remember when we fastened the ladder on the donkey's back,
the night we were going to rescue Frank's father," suggested Fenn? "How
he ran away in the woods?"
"Yes, and how it rained," put in Ned. "Gee, that was fierce!"
"But we had a good time," remarked Frank. "Father can never forget how
much you boys did for him."
"It wasn't anything!" exclaimed Ned. "Say, do you remember when they
thought we blew up the school with dynamite?"
"Do I? I should guess yes," replied Ned.
"Yes, and how Ned thought he was going to become a millionaire with that
investment which made him a fugitive!" spoke Bart. "Oh, yes, we had good
times then. But we don't seem to be having them any more. It's nothing
but measly old algebra exams. that no fellow can pass. I wish--"
But what Bart wished he never told, for, at that instant there came from
the street outside a series of sharp explosions, that sounded like a
Gatling gun in full operation.
"What's that?" cried Fenn.
"It's an automobile!" replied Frank, who was nearest the window. "It's
running away, too, from the looks of it. They've opened the muffler and
are trying to reverse I guess! Something's wrong! There's going to be an
accident!"
The other boys crowded up back of Frank to see what was going on. The
street in front of Fenn's house sloped sharply down to a cliff at the
end of the thoroughfare. Across the highway was a stout fence, designed
to prevent any one from driving over the cliff, which was quite high.
Toward this fence a big touring car, which, as the boys could see,
contained an elderly gentleman and a young lady, was rushing at furious
speed.
"Stop! Stop!" cried Fenn in desperation, thinking the man in the car did
not know or realize his danger. "The street ends at the fence! You'll
go over the cliff!"
As the auto whizzed past the house the girl in it gave one glance at
Fenn. The youth thought her the most beautiful person he had ever seen,
though there was a look of terror in her eyes.
"He can't stop!" shouted Bart. "Something's wrong with the machine!"
Indeed this seemed to be true, for the man at the steering wheel was
frantically pulling on various levers and stamping, with his feet, on
some pedals in front of him.
The young woman in the car half arose in her seat. The man, holding the
wheel with one hand, held her back with the other. She gave a startled
cry and, a moment later the auto had crashed through the fence, as
though it was made of paper, and the front wheels disappeared over the
edge of the cliff.
"Come on!" cried Bart. "We must go to their help!"
"I'm afraid they're dead," spoke Frank solemnly, as he quickly followed
his chums from Fenn's house.