FENN BECOMES ILL
"Well, now, what's our program?" asked Frank when the four Darewell
chums were in the railroad train, speeding through the outskirts of
Duluth. "I s'pose Fenn will make a bee line for Bayville and see Ruth."
"I intend to go there, not only to see Ruth, but to see her father,"
announced Fenn coolly. "It's no more than right, is it? He invited us to
come and see him, if we ever got out this way, and here we are. It would
be mean not to pay a visit."
"Oh, yes, Stumpy," remarked Ned. "We know just how you feel about it,"
and he laughed, whereat Fenn blushed, for he was rather sensitive
concerning his liking for young ladies.
"Leaving Mr. Hayward out of it, what do you intend to do, after we've
got our camp established?" asked Frank, looking at Fenn, with whom this
idea had originated.
"I'm going to see what those men were doing on the cliff," was the
decided answer. "Maybe they were Chinese smugglers. If they were--"
"Yes, if they were I s'pose Stumpy will climb up there single handed,
make 'em all prisoners, and then write a half-dime novel about it," put
in Bart.
"Not exactly," answered Fenn. "I don't see what's to hinder me giving
information to the government, though, about the smugglers, if that's
what they are. I understand there's a reward for that sort of
information, and I could use a bit of spare cash as well as any one."
"That's so!" exclaimed Ned. "I didn't think about that. I'm with you,
Stumpy."
"You'll want half the reward, I guess," interjected Bart.
"Sure," said Ned. "Who wouldn't? Why can't we all go in on this thing?"
"Of course we can," declared Fenn. "We'll go camping somewhere back of
that cliff, and then we can--"
"Hush! Not so loud!" suddenly cautioned Frank. Then, bending his head
closer to his chums, as they were sitting in two seats facing each other
he added: "There's a man a couple of seats back who's been watching us
pretty sharply ever since we began talking this way. I don't like his
looks."
"Where is he?" asked Fenn in a whisper.
"Don't look now," replied Frank, making a pretense of pointing out the
window at a bit of scenery. "He's staring right at us. It's the man with
the light hat, with a white ribbon band on, whom I mean. You can size
him up as soon as he turns his head."
The boys cautiously waited for an opportunity, and took a quick
inspection of the man Frank had indicated. He was a total stranger to
the four Darewell lads, as far as any of them knew, but it did not take
long to disclose the fact that the man was much interested in them.
He watched their every move, and, when any one of them spoke, the fellow
tried to catch what was said. The man seemed like an ordinary traveler,
and, except for a peculiar cast in one eye, was not bad looking.
"Let's change our seats," suggested Fenn, when the train had proceeded
some miles farther, and the car was not so full. "We want to talk, and
we can't be whispering all the while."
They moved farther away from the man with the cast in his eye, and were
once more discussing their plans, when Frank again noticed that the man
was listening. He, too, had moved up several seats, and, under pretense
of reading a paper, was straining his ears for whatever the boys said.
"Let's go into the other car," proposed Fenn. "If he follows us there
we'll tell the conductor."
But the man evidently did not care to run any more risks and the boys
were not further annoyed.
"I wonder who he was?" asked Ned. "Perhaps he had something to do with
the smugglers."
"Oh, I guess he was just some fellow more interested in the business of
other persons than in his own," replied Frank. "I hope we didn't talk
too much, so that he'll know what we are going to do."
"That's so, he might go and give information to the government, and get
that reward," announced Fenn. "I wish we'd been more careful!"
"Well, I guess he'll have his own troubles finding that cliff," was
Bart's opinion. "We didn't mention any special place. Our secret is safe
enough."
After further consideration of what they had said the boys agreed with
this view. As they were now almost alone in the car they talked freely,
deciding on what to do when in the woods.
They had brought a small sleeping tent with them, some guns which they
had hired and a limited supply of food. As they were going to be within
reach of small settlements, villages or, at the worst, scattered farm
houses, they calculated they could, from time to time, buy what they
needed to eat.
They had made a careful study of a map of the country they intended to
utilize as part of their vacation trip, and decided on a place to camp
that was not far from where they had observed the queer actions of the
men on the cliff. It was also within a short distance of Bayville,
where, as has been said, Mr. Hayward and his daughter lived.
They left the train at a station, near the foot of a small mountain, on
the slopes of which they were to pitch their tent. Their baggage and
supplies was piled up on the platform and, Frank, surveying it,
exclaimed:
"Oh, dear, I wish we had that mule we used when we were rescuing my
father. He could carry a good deal of this stuff, and we wouldn't break
our backs."
"Aw, don't mind a little thing like that!" advised Bart. "Why it's not
far, and we can make two trips if necessary."
They decided this would be the best plan, and, taking what they could
carry, they set off into the woods, the station agent agreeing to look
after what baggage they left behind, until they came back for it.
The weather was fine, and the air, in that northwestern region, was
clear and bracing.
"I could carry twice as much as this," announced Ned, as he walked
along, balancing his load on his shoulder.
"Here, take mine then!" cried Frank quickly.
"Not to-day," retorted Ned with a laugh. "I was only figuratively
speaking."
They picked out a good camping place, and, as they had brought the tent
with the first load, they set that up.
"Now for the rest of the stuff, and we'll be in good shape for the
night," remarked Bart. "Come on, fellows. Why, Fenn, what's the matter?"
he asked quickly, as he noticed the stout youth seated on a log.
"Me? Nothing. I'm all right."
"No, you're not. You're as white as a sheet of paper," went on Bart.
"Don't you feel well?"
"Sure. I'm all right. I guess I walked a little too fast; that's all."
"Well, take a good rest before you make the second trip," advised Ned.
"No, I'll tell you what we'll do," proposed Frank. "We three can easily
carry what stuff is back there at the depot. Let Fenn stay here and
rest, and we'll go back for it. Besides, we ought to leave somebody on
guard," he added quickly, fearing Fenn might object to anyone doing his
share of the work.
"Oh, I'll be all right in a minute, fellows," said Fenn, trying to
smile, but making rather poor work of it. "It's the heat, I guess."
"It is hot," agreed Bart.
"You go ahead and I'll catch up to you," proposed Fenn. "I'm feeling a
little better now."
"No, you stay here and we'll fetch the rest of the stuff," repeated
Frank, and he insisted on it, with such good reason, also pointing out
that if any tramps came along they might steal the tent, that Fenn
consented to remain on guard. In fact he was very glad to do so, as he
felt a curious sensation in his head and stomach, and he was not a
little alarmed, as he had never been seriously ill.
"I hope he isn't going to be sick," observed Bart, as the boys started
back to the station. "We'll have to give up our camp if he is."
"Oh, he'll be all right," asserted Ned, confidently. "It was only the
heat and the walk."
"I hope so," rejoined Frank.
But when the boys returned with the remainder of the camp stuff two
hours later, they found an unpleasant surprise awaiting them.
In the tent, stretched out on some hemlock boughs which they had cut
before leaving, they found poor Fenn. He was very pale and his eyes were
closed.
"He's asleep," whispered Ned.
Frank entered softly and placed his hand on Fenn's head.
"He's got a high fever," he said, with alarm in his voice. "Fellows, I'm
afraid Fenn's quite sick."