THE MAN WITH THE TURTLE
The chums took their meal at one of the two hotels in Cannistota, and,
liking the appearance of the place, which the doctor had recommended,
they made arrangements to stay there for a few days, during which time
Fenn's arm was to receive treatment. They had adjoining rooms, and, once
they had visited them, and left the few belongings they had brought from
camp, they were ready to go out into the street again, and watch the
preparations being made to celebrate the advent of the New Year that
night.
"I know one thing we'd better do," remarked Frank, as they strolled
along.
"What's that?" inquired Bart.
"Send telegrams to the folks at home, telling them where we are, and
wishing them good luck for the New Year."
"Good!" exclaimed Fenn, "but don't say anything about my sore arm. My
folks might worry."
This was agreed to, and then each lad wrote his own telegram,
explaining briefly why he was not in the woods, the carnival forming a
good reason for the change.
"This will be a good plan in case they have any word to send us,"
remarked Ned. "A telegram will reach us at the hotel, but it never would
at camp."
Bart had taken his rifle with him when they left the hotel, and when his
companions joked him about it, asking him if he expected to see a bear
or a deer in the town, Bart replied:
"I want to take it to a gunmaker's and get a screw set in a little
deeper," referring to one on the lock mechanism. "It works loose every
once in a while, and now's a good time to have it fixed, when I'm not
likely to have a use for the rifle. I intend to do a lot of hunting when
we get back to camp."
As the chums strolled on, they saw, on every side, more evidences of the
carnival spirit. On several side streets, as well as on the main ones,
flags and bunting were in evidence, and colored electric lights were
being strung. Linemen were high up on poles arranging extra wires, and
others, below, were passing up the colored bulbs, or pliers, and other
tools needed by their mates on the high poles. The boys watched this for
some time, and then, at Bart's suggestion, they strolled toward the
centre of the village.
There a still busier scene was observed. There were a number of linemen
on the tall poles, and, as the boys looked on, the current was turned
into the hundreds of various-hued bulbs, to test them. It was early
afternoon, and much yet remained to be done in order to get the
decorations completed.
The lads found a gunsmith in his shop, not far from the intersection of
the main streets, and he was soon at work on Bart's rifle, talking as he
worked. The boys told him of their experience in camp, and the necessity
for their visit to town.
"Got scratched by a buck; eh?" remarked the old gunsmith as he gazed
from under his bushy white eyebrows at the lads. "That happened to me
once. Their horns seem to sort of poison a wound. I guess it's because
the critters rub their antlers up against all sorts of trees and bushes.
They get poisonous juices on 'em."
Soon the lads were again strolling along the street. The afternoon was
passing, and presently the town, which was now thronged with visitors,
would be in the full sway of the carnival.
Fenn was walking ahead of his chums, looking in the store windows, and
taking care that he did not collide with persons in the crowd, and so
injure his sore arm. The stout youth saw, just ahead of him, an
establishment devoted to the sale of pets of various kinds. There were
pigeons, white rats, puppies, gold fish, some monkeys and parrots, and
scores of canary birds. As several specimens were on exhibition in the
windows quite a crowd was gathered about watching the antics of a pair
of monkeys. Fenn, always interested in such things, drew closer,
motioning to his chums, who were walking slowly, to join him.
As he turned back toward the store he saw a man entering--a man, at the
sight of whom, the stout lad started, and looked at him again, more
sharply.
"I wonder if it can be--yes, it's the same man--the mysterious man we've
been after so long!" murmured Fenn. "He's going in that store! I hope he
didn't see me." He got behind a couple of men who were close to the
window, and watched until he had seen the person he had observed close
the door, after entering the store. Then Fenn turned to address his
chums who were now at his side.
"What's the matter?" asked Bart, laughing. "You look as if you had seen
a ghost, Stumpy."
"I've seen something more substantial than a ghost," replied the lad,
"I've seen the man who stole the diamond bracelet, fellows!"
"Where?" gasped Ned and Frank.
"Hush! Not so loud," cautioned Fenn, for several persons were curiously
observing the four lads. "He's in that store," went on the stout youth.
They could hardly believe him, but Fenn soon told them the
circumstances, and repeated his belief in the positiveness of his
identification. "I'm sure it was the same man," he said.
"Well, we'll soon see," declared Bart. "He'll have to come out, some
time or other, and then we can tell. We'll just wait here a while."
A little later they were all startled to see the man, about whom there
seemed to be such a mystery, come hurriedly from the store.
"There he is!" exclaimed Fenn.
"It's him, all right," assented Bart, in low tones. "Now what shall we
do; follow him?"
The man turned south on the main street, and began walking rapidly away.
At that instant Fenn caught sight of a package in his hand. It was a
paper bundle, but, as the stout lad looked, he saw projecting from it
the long, snake-like neck of a mud turtle.
"He's got a turtle!" cried Fenn, excitedly. "Let's chase after him! We
must solve this mystery now or never!"