THE MYSTERIOUS MAN AGAIN
Frank's story was soon told, and he was helped back toward camp by his
comrades, for he was stiff from his long position in the tree.
"You want to be more careful of your gun, next time," cautioned Bart,
"and take the right one."
"Yes, and you want to take some grub with you," added Fenn. "You never
can tell what will happen in the woods. Hungry, aren't you?"
"Don't mention it," begged Frank, earnestly. "I could even eat pancakes
flavored with soap powder."
"Well, we'll soon be in camp," remarked Ned. "We've got plenty to eat
there. We would have started searching for you long before this, but we
supposed you had taken some grub, and would stay all day. But when it
got dark, and you didn't show up, we feared something had happened."
"Something had," observed Frank earnestly.
"We had tramped about for some time before we saw the puff of the
explosion," went on Bart. "You had a great head on you, Frank, to think
of that."
"I had to think of something," was the response. "Wow! but that beast
was a savage one!"
They reached camp in due time, and Frank was provided with a good meal,
and plenty of hot coffee.
The warm weather continued for the next two days, and the air was almost
like spring. The boys thoroughly enjoyed it, and went on long tramps
through the woods. They were on the lookout for the mate of the wildcat,
but saw no further traces of the ugly beasts.
There was a stream, not far from camp, and there the chums went one day,
cut a hole through the ice, which was too thick to melt much, and fished
for pickerel, with such good luck that they had a fish dinner that day.
Then on several succeeding days they went hunting, getting some wild
turkeys, and some wild ducks, which gave them a variety of food for
their larder.
For a week they lived this way, and Bart was in hopes of bagging a deer,
since the snow had disappeared, and it was lawful to shoot them. But,
though he tramped far and near he did not see any. Once he descried one
on top of a distant hill, but it was too far off for a successful shot,
and when he started on the trail the animal dashed into a thick forest,
and was soon lost. Bart returned to camp, somewhat dispirited.
He practiced at a target occasionally, as did his chums, but they could
not begin to equal Bart in making bullseyes, though Ned ran his friend a
close second.
The boys tramped about, did the work necessary in camp, hunted and
fished and thoroughly enjoyed life during the mild weather of the
unexpected thaw. Not that they did not enjoy it when it was cold and
snapping, or even snowing, but they could do much more when the weather
was milder.
"But we'll pay for this," declared Bart one day, when they had started
on their second week of camp life. "We'll have a storm soon, I'm
thinking."
"Let it come," declared Fenn. "We're ready for it, and the folks know
we're all right," for they had walked to a cross-roads rural free
delivery box that day, and deposited some letters to go to Darewell, as
they knew the mail carrier would collect the missives.
"You won't get your deer if the snow comes," spoke Frank, "and, by the
looks of the sky, we'll have a flurry before night."
"I know it, and that's the reason I'm going out this afternoon, and have
another try for it. Are you fellows coming?"
"I'm not," announced Fenn. "Too tired. I'm going to stay here and chop
wood. You fellows won't do it, and we've got to have some for the
fires."
"I'll help," agreed Frank.
"Will you come, Ned?" went on Bart.
"Nope, I'm going to clean my gun. There'll be some good shooting after
the storm, and I want to be ready for it."
"All right, then I'll go alone," decided Bart. "I want a deer," and
putting a supply of cartridges in his belt, and seeing that his gun
magazine was filled, he started off.
For some time Bart tramped on without a sight of anything. Then, when he
was going through a lonely part of the forest, if one part of that
uninhabited place was more lonely than another, he was startled by a
crashing sound in the underbrush. He started, and threw up his gun in
anticipation, but he could not help laughing when a big rabbit, as
startled as the lad was himself, stood up and looked at him.
"Skip away, bunny," remarked Bart with a laugh, "I'm looking for bigger
game than you," and he kept on, while the hare scurried for cover.
Bart covered several miles, and, almost unconsciously, he found that he
was traveling in the direction of the mud volcano, or boiling spring,
having swung around in a half-circle since leaving camp.
"By Jinks!" exclaimed the youth, as he came to a halt in the midst of a
little clearing, "I believe I've got an idea. That mud volcano water is
partly salty. Now, why shouldn't deer go there to get the salt? They
love it and I may catch one there. I never thought of that before. I've
read of 'salt licks,' where deer congregate, but I never figured out
that our boiling spring might be one. I'll keep on to there, and maybe
I'll get a shot."
This gave a new direction to his chase, and he turned to make his way to
the spring. He had not taken ten steps before he was again startled by a
crashing in the underbrush. He thought it was another rabbit, and he was
about to pass on when he looked up, and saw, through the leafless trees,
a big buck gazing full at him. It was only for an instant, and before
Bart could bring his rifle to bear the deer had bounded off.
"He's headed for the boiling spring!" cried Bart in his excitement. "Now
I'll get him! I hope I get a shot before it begins to snow, and it's
likely to do it any minute now."
Bart started off rapidly in the direction taken by the buck, with his
gun in readiness for a quick shot, though he hardly hoped to get one
until he had continued the chase for some time longer. The crashing in
the bushes encouraged him, and told him that his quarry was ahead of
him, and on he rushed.
Almost before he knew it he was within sight of the boiling spring, and
he checked his pace, hoping to come upon the buck licking the salty
deposit from the rocks in the little stream that flowed from the place
where the mud volcano was. He thought the animal might even stop for a
drink in a fresh spring, that was not far from the salty one.
As Bart peered through the bushes, with his rifle ready to throw up to
his shoulder, he was conscious of some movement in the underbrush on the
other side of the spring.
"He's made a circle, and he's here ahead of me--on the other side,"
thought the lad. "I think I've got him!"
With eager eyes he watched. The bushes continued to move and vibrate.
Something seemed to be coming down to the edge of the spring. Bart's
nerves were on edge. His hands were almost trembling, but he controlled
himself by an effort, and he raised his gun slowly to take aim.
He saw something brown moving amid the brambles. It looked like the head
of a deer. Bart slowly and cautiously raised his gun to his shoulder. He
drew a bead on the brown object.
A moment later, and just as the lad was about to press the trigger,
there stepped into view a man! It was a man and not a deer that Bart had
been about to fire at, and a cold chill came over him. He had paused
just in time.
But as he looked at the individual whom he had mistaken for a deer he
felt a second tremor of excitement, for, as he had a glimpse of his face
Bart was made aware that the man was none other than the one about whom
there was such a mystery--the man who had sneaked into the schoolhouse
the night the diamond bracelet was stolen--the midnight visitor at the
camp, perhaps.
At the same instant that Bart was aware of this the man saw him. He
hesitated--made a gesture as if of despair, and turned to dive into the
bushes. A moment later there came a sudden snow squall, shutting off
from Bart's view the man he had so nearly shot.