"MR. BERNARD,--I can't go with you. Let Joe Chester go, please. I did
the mischief, and was afraid to tell. Ben Carver knew about it, but did
not do it. We are going off together. Please send our fathers word that
we are safe. RALPH DRAYTON.
"_P.S._--I was never sorrier in my life, Mr. Bernard."
Mr. Bernard read the note again carefully, and then said to the waiting
crowd,--
"Drayton and Carver have gone, they do not say where; but in this note
which they leave behind, Drayton confesses that he is the guilty
person."
A murmur of astonishment passed around the throng of boys, which was
changed to a cheer when Mr. Bernard added,--
"Who will go back for Chester?"
A score of eager voices shouted, "I, sir!" and before he could speak
again a dozen boys had leaped ashore, led by David Winter, and were
scampering like a herd of wild deer across the fields towards the
Academy boarding-house, each determined to be first in announcing the
good news to Joe Chester.
It was at least a mile from the shore to the house, and the boys raced
as they had never raced before, Dave, Joe's "chum" and room-mate,
keeping the lead all the way, but with such an effort that he only
reached the head of the stairs as one or two of the other boys reached
the foot.
Without stopping to knock, he pushed open the door, and fell upon Joe,
who, hearing the rush of feet, had come forward with eager expectation.
[Illustration: He pushed open the door and fell upon Joe.]
"What's the matter, Dave?" Joe cried in real alarm, as the boy, too
breathless to speak, incoherently gasped, "It's all right! You are to
go. Come on, old boy!"
The other boys were in the room now, and as all were panting and holding
their sides, it was rather difficult for Joe to make out the story they
had come to tell.
But he was to go to the island after all; he knew that, and that was
good news enough.
He gathered, also, that Drayton had confessed and was missing.
"Where did you say they are gone?"
"Nobody knows."
"Nobody cares!" added another.
"I care," said Joe boldly. "I wish I had time to hunt him up!"
"You, of all fellows! You hunt him up!" exclaimed Frank Furman.
"The idea of your troubling yourself about him!" cried Dave angrily.
"You make me mad, Joe!"
"But I know something how he was feeling, and what a hard thing it was
for him to confess."
"Never mind him!" said Dave impatiently. "The boat is waiting! Where's
your baggage?"
"I'll take your rod," said Ned Gould, taking Joe's fishing-rod from the
hooks.
"No, not that one. Ralph left his for me. The janitor brought it
around; he said he found it in the hall. Poor Ralph!" said Joe,
examining the paper tied to the rod with the address, "For Joe Chester."
"Humph! that's the least he could do!" grumbled Dave. "Come, get your
things together quick!" and he pulled Joe's valise from under the bed.
Joe was too excited to help much, but among them all they soon had the
valise filled; and with a whoop that would have delighted the heart of a
red Indian, the boys dashed downstairs, nearly crushing the janitor, who
was labouring slowly up to investigate the noise coming from Room 8.
The race back to the steamboat was not quite so brisk as that to the
house had been, but they were not long on the way.
They were hailed by the throng of boys on the boat with cheer after
cheer as they came in sight, and most of the boys leaped ashore and
rushed to greet the hero of the occasion, who was quite overcome with
congratulations and expressions of delight.
Mr. Bernard had gone to make inquiries about the two missing boys, and
the boat was kept waiting till nearly noon, when he came with the
tidings that Drayton and Carver had sailed that morning in a
fishing-smack from that very wharf.
Mr. Bernard had also written to the boys' parents, giving a brief
account of the trouble, with information in regard to their sailing, the
name of the vessel, and the time when it might be expected to return to
port. At the close he had expressed his regret that he must decline to
receive the boys again as pupils.
"Gone in a fishing-smack!"--"Such high-toned fellows, too!"
These were some of the exclamations of the boys.
The delay was over at last.
The boat swung around from the pier and steamed away; the band played
"Bonnie Dundee," and the boys' shouts quite drowned the music.
The day was beautiful and bright, and every one was in high spirits, as
the little boat puffed its way out between the capes and towards
Whaleback, which lay within sight, and among scores of white sails, from
that of the tiniest wherry up to the broad canvas of the huge ships
sailing proudly away to foreign ports.
They passed one fishing-smack on which somebody thought he espied two
boys who looked about Drayton and Carver's size; but when they passed it
no one but the captain and his one helper could be seen.
"I'll bet Drayton and Carver are down in that cabin. I just know I saw
them dodge; besides, I saw the twinkle in that old fisherman's eye,"
said Dick Wooster.
The orders were for the steamboat to land its passengers on the southern
side of Whaleback; and as they steamed past the lighthouse on its rocky
perch, and the long line of jagged coast against which the waves were
dashing furiously, the boys wondered how they were to get ashore. On
rounding the southern end, a fine pebbly beach, sheltered a little by
projecting points of land, offered a comfortable entrance for boats.
The steamboat anchored outside, and four boats were lowered and speedily
filled with boys, who were almost ready to jump overboard and swim
ashore in their eagerness to land.
The landing occupied some time, as the boats made many trips before all
the boys, tents, bedding, stove, cooking utensils, and, last but not
least, the provisions for the hungry crowd, could be put on shore.
Jonas Brown, the cook, and his man Freitag (conveniently translated by
the boys, "Friday"), attended to that part of the labour, and long
before the boxes and barrels were all ashore, the boys were demanding
something to eat.
Some started off on an exploring tour; others helped to put up the
tents; and some of the hungriest went grubbing in the clam-beds,[#]
still wet with the receding tide.
[#] Clams are shell-fish, used for food.
"Here are clam-forks, boys," shouted Jonas. "Glad to have your help.
You dig the clams, and I'll build up my fire and get ready for a bake.
I reckon that will taste as good as anything."
"A clam-bake! a clam-bake! Who will dig clams?"
More boys volunteered than could find forks to dig with; but not to be
outdone, some of them worked with sticks, prying in the mud wherever the
little holes indicated the presence of the shell-fish.
Jonas showed those who had forks how to strike them deep into the beds,
and the boys were apt scholars; so that by the time the rocks were well
heated, and the sea-weed gathered, there were clams enough piled up on
the shore to furnish a feast even for such a crowd of boys.
While the clams were slowly baking under their sea-weed cover, Jonas and
his Friday pitched their cook-tent, set up their stove, and baked
biscuits to be eaten with the clams.
Long before the roast was pronounced "done," the boys were on hand
waiting for the sea-weed to be removed, and a hungrier pack of young
savages never danced around a clam-pile.
A barrel of biscuits had been opened on their first arrival at the
island, and the boys had "taken the sharp edge off their appetite," as
they said, by eating them; otherwise Jonas would never have been able to
bring those clams to the stage of perfection that he did.
"Come, Jonas! they are done to a turn!" cried the impatient boys.
"They will lose all their goodness in that good smell," said Joe,
sniffing the air.
All noses went up, and fifty boys gave a prolonged "Ah! Isn't that
gul--orious?"
It did seem that Jonas was provokingly slow in testing those clams; but
at last he said, in his drawling way, "Well, now, I reckon them'll do!"
The boys cheered this remark, and hastened to offer their assistance in
removing the sea-weed; but Jonas declined their offer in a most decided
way.
"Now, you just move off, every boy of you! or you shan't have a clam.
Off with you, till I get 'em out in piles, and give every one a fair
chance!"
The boys knew by experience that it was policy to keep Jonas
good-natured; so, with a good deal of pushing and whooping, they widened
the circle, and contented themselves with watching the operations and
exhorting Jonas to "hurry up."
"Now, that there pile belongs to the gentlemen!" said Jonas, pointing to
the first heap that he threw down on the clean pebbles.
"O Jonas! aren't we all gentlemen?" asked Walter Martin, and a chorus of
groans followed from the other boys.
Jonas vouchsafed no reply, but continued to shovel out clams and divide
them into a half-dozen piles along the beach; while the boys danced
around, awaiting the signal of the bell.
Freitag presently appeared with the great bell, and, although the
summons was wholly unnecessary so far as the boys were concerned, as
they had been at the scene of action for nearly an hour, it brought the
teachers from their work of tent-raising.
After a blessing asked by Mr. Bernard, permission was given to the
hungry crowd to attack the shellfish.
There were three courses provided--roast clams, then warm biscuit, and
finally a dessert of gingersnaps, a barrel of which stood open from
which all helped themselves.
Fortunately the boys were not difficult to suit, and they pronounced it
a meal fit for a king.
*CHAPTER IV.*
*IN CAMP.*
After the dinner Mr. Bernard said, "There are two dozen hatchets, and I
want two dozen boys to use them."
"Oh yes, the fir-boughs to be chopped!" said a dozen voices.
"I'll chop!"
"I'm the boy for a hatchet!"
In a minute the two dozen hatchets were seized, and as soon as the boys
received their directions about the bushes they were allowed to cut,
they started off for the pasture, followed by a crowd to drag the boughs
back to camp, where others of the party, who had done the same work
before, were to lay them down for beds. The pasture where the boys had
gone for the fragrant fir-boughs extended across the end of the island
and stretched back a half-mile to the woods,--a dense growth of
hemlocks, junipers, firs, oaks, beeches, wild cherries, thorn trees, and
hazel bushes. Along the course of a stream running from a spring grew
rows of alders, over which ran the clematis; and along the edge of the
water-course grew clumps of ferns and patches of velvety moss.
These woods extended for a mile, thinning at the other end of the island
into a bush-covered pasture that, a little later in the season, would
furnish all the blueberries and whortleberries the boys would want, and,
later still, would be a garden of golden-rods and wild asters. All
around the shore of the island, except at the southern end, was a border
of rough boulders and cliffs, upon the highest of which was perched the
lighthouse, with its revolving lantern.
While the boys were at work in the pasture, Jonas and Freitag were
putting up their long tables of matched boards and covering the whole
with oilcloth, "to look more civilized-like than bare boards," Jonas
said.
Then the great baskets of tinware were unpacked, and the table set for
the next meal; for Jonas had camped out before with Mr. Bernard's
school, and he knew that they liked to see signs of the next meal as
soon as one was disposed of. Moreover, he had discovered that they were
less likely to be around sampling the crackers if they saw the table
set. He may have been deceived in this, but Jonas was a pretty keen
observer, especially in the line of his profession.
Seeing some of the boys idle, Jonas called, "Here, you fellows, catch me
some fish for supper. There's plenty of chances along the shore yonder.
I saw 'em when we came past.--You go along too, Freitag, and help 'em."
The boys were all eager for the sport.
"Here's bait, and a big pile of fishing-rods all rigged. Take that
there big basket for your fish," continued Jonas, as if he were giving
orders to a group of fishermen.
The boys, however, followed his directions good-naturedly, each seizing
a rod, but leaving "Friday," as they called the man, to bring on the
bait and fish-basket.
"Remember your promise, boys, not to go into dangerous places," called
Mr. Bernard.
"Yes, sir, we will be careful," answered the boys. They were soon
perched on the rocks, dropping their hooks into the water and pulling
them out, exclaiming, "I've got a bite!"
"So have I."
"My! ain't they plenty!"
"There's one! Hold on, my beauty! Let go my hook!"
It was lively work, as they said, and presently they had enough to do to
bait hooks and take off fish without much talking. Jonas gave a grunt
of satisfaction as Freitag came dragging the heavy basket and
exclaiming, "Py, but dat was a pig pizness!"
"Now, I can get a supper as is a supper!" exclaimed the cook.--"Freit,
you just get them fish ready, and I'll cut up the pork. It ain't nigh
supper-time, of course; dinner isn't much more than over, so you boys go
off somewhere. Why don't you go see the lighthouse?"
Now Jonas was very cunning in making this suggestion, for he knew the
lighthouse was at the other end of the island, a mile and a half away,
and if the crowd would only start on that pilgrimage, he could have
peace and quiet, and get supper at his leisure. His suggestion seemed
good to the boys, and they cried, "Oh yes, the lighthouse!"
"Hurrah for the lighthouse!"
"Mr. Bernard, may we go to the lighthouse?"
Mr. Bernard was in his tent; but hearing his name called, he came
outside.
"We want to go to the lighthouse. Can we go?"
"Yes, if Mr. Andrews is ready to go now; he has an errand there to see
about a supply of milk. Now, boys, I have not found out the dangerous
places on the island, and until we have explored a little ourselves, I
want you to use extra precautions. Remember, no bathing except on the
beach where we landed; that slopes very evenly, and I think there is no
under-current."
"We will be careful, sir."
"We will remember," said the boys.
"Come on; who wants to go to the lighthouse?"
"Ho, for the lighthouse!"
The choppers and bough-layers were at leisure again, and many of them
joined the party.