FRANK LEAVES AGAIN
Frank reached camp in time for breakfast. He was weary with his long
night journey, and his chums saw evidences of the strain it had been on
him in his eyes, heavy from need of sleep, and his arms, which trembled
from the long paddling. But they did not question him.
"Here's some hot coffee!" called Fenn, as his chum drew the boat up
on the bank.
"Thanks," replied Frank. "I think I'll go to bed if you fellows don't
mind. I'm dead tired."
"We're going off fishing," said Bart. "You can do as you please, and lie
around all day."
"We'll have to have some supplies this afternoon," put in Ned. "Camp
stuff is running low. Someone has to go to some farmer's and buy some
butter, eggs and bread."
"I'll go," volunteered Frank. "I'll take the trip this afternoon."
"All right," said Ned. "We may not be back until after dinner. We're
going to take some grub with us. Go any time you want to. I guess the
camp will look after itself for a while. We haven't been bothered with
visitors since we came."
The three chums, having arranged their fishing tackle, started off, while
Frank stretched out on his cot and was soon asleep.
It was noon when he awakened, and, after getting himself something to
eat, he prepared to go for the supplies. The boys had arranged with a
farmer, who lived about two miles from camp, to provide them with things
to eat. Taking a big basket Frank was soon on the way.
"Wa'al, ain't you boys give up livin' in th' woods?" greeted Mr.
Armstrong, when Frank had given his order for the camp supplies.
"No, we're still there. Bears haven't eaten us yet."
"That's strange, 'cause I seen a big flock of 'em headin' that way only
th' other day. I says to my wife, says I, 'them b'ars is goin' to eat
them boys, sure!'" and he laughed at his joke.
"Guess they got frightened," suggested Frank.
"Wa'al, now, mebby they did. How long you goin't' stay?"
"We haven't set any special time. All summer maybe. Until we get
tired, anyhow."
"One night would tire me," commented Mr. Armstrong. "I like a roof over
my head, I do. Now you wait a minute an' I'll git th' eggs an' other
things. I keep 'em down cellar where it's cool. There's a paper ye might
like t' look at. It's printed in the village, an' it gives all th' news
from tellin' of how Deacon Jones's cow ate green apples an' died, t'
relatin' th' momentous fact that Silas Landseer has painted his barn red.
Make yourself right t' home an' read all th' news."
Frank took the paper and sat down in a big rocking chair on the side
porch, while Mr. Armstrong, with the basket, went down in the cellar. The
boy looked over the sheet, which contained news of the doings in the
village and near-by. There were a few advertisements, of horses and cows
for sale, of auctions about to take place, and one or two legal notices.
As Frank's eyes roved over the columns he caught sight of something that
caused him to utter an exclamation. He eagerly scanned a notice, and had
only read half through it when Mr. Armstrong came up from the cellar.
"There!" exclaimed the farmer. "I reckon you boys ain't goin' t' starve
this week," and he set down the basket, which was quite heavy. "Can you
carry that out t' camp?"
"I guess so," replied Frank, holding the journal in his hand. "By the
way, do you want this paper? I'd like to take it back with me."
"Take it an' welcome. Must be kind of lonesome out there in the woods.
I've got a lot of old papers if you want 'em."
"No, thanks, this one will do," the boy said, folding the sheet and
putting it into his pocket.
Paying the farmer, Frank took up the basket and started back toward
camp. The victuals were heavy but he did not mind that. He was thinking
of the notice he had seen in the paper. As soon as he was out of sight
of the farmhouse, he sat down beside the trail that led to the tent, and
took the sheet from his pocket. Turning to the page that had so
interested him he read:
"WANTED: at the Cliffside Sanitarium, a strong, capable young man, to
assist in the general work. One of quiet habits preferred. Apply to Dr.
Jacob Hardman."
"I wonder if I dare do it," Frank said softly to himself. "It would give
me just the chance I need. I have a good notion to try, at any rate. They
can't any more than say they don't want me. And, if they do take me--"
He paused to think over the possibilities should he get the position. A
light came into his eyes. He seemed to have forgotten the troubles of the
past few weeks.
"The worst of it is, though, that I can't tell the boys. They wouldn't
understand. I've got to work alone for a while yet, until I get things
where I want them. I think the best plan will be to slip off, and say
nothing to them at all. Explanations, especially when I can't give all
the facts, will only tangle the thing up worse than it is. No, I've
got to disappear again, and they must think what they will. It's the
only way."
He picked up the heavy basket and started on again, folding the paper
so that the advertisement was outside. Then he put the journal into
his pocket.
"I hope I get back before the boys arrive," was his thought as he trudged
on. "I must get away this afternoon, and make application this evening.
The place may already be filled."
Frank was glad to note, when he got back to camp, that his three chums
were still absent. He placed the basket of food where they could see it,
and then, putting on his best clothes, and making a bundle of some
underwear and other of his possessions he started off through the woods,
following the telephone line.
"I wish I could take the canoe," he thought, as he saw it drawn up on the
bank. "I would get there more quickly, but I have no way of sending it
back, in case I stay. It wouldn't be fair. No, I'll have to tramp it.
Guess I'll put on a pair of smoked glasses for a disguise. Some of those
attendants may recognize me," and he tried on a pair he had in his
pocket. He decided to use them when he asked for the place.
He had gone on about a mile when he felt for the paper. It was gone.
"It doesn't matter though," he told himself. "I know what it says. All
I've got to do is to ask for Dr. Hardman, and tell him I think I'll fill
the bill."
So he kept on through the woods, his mind filled with thoughts of many
things, chief of which was the hope that he would get the situation, and
be able to put his plan into operation.
It was well on toward evening when the three chums got back from their
fishing trip, for they had tramped several miles. They had good luck, and
brought back several beauties.
"Hello, Frank!" called Bart, when they were within hearing distance
of the camp.
There was no answer.
"Maybe he's asleep yet," suggested Fenn.
"Hardly," commented Ned.
The boys reached the tent. The first thing they saw was the basket of
provender Frank had left.
"Well, he's been to Armstrong's," remarked Bart. "Hello, Frank!
Where are you?"
An echo was the only answer. Ned entered the tent. He came out in a
hurry.
"Frank's run away!" he exclaimed.
"What makes you think so?" asked Bart, much surprised, while Fenn looked
startled at the news.
"Because most of his clothes are gone."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course. Look!" and he pointed to where they were missing from the
small trunk in which Frank kept them.
"This is getting serious," declared Bart. "Something is wrong with Frank.
I wonder where he could have gone?"
"What's that over there?" asked Fenn, pointing to a white object at the
foot of a tree.
"It's a newspaper," said Ned, picking it up. "And it is turned to display
an advertisement. I wonder if Frank could have gone to answer this?" and
he read the item concerning the sanitarium.