A DAY OF REST
“It’s a terrible storm coming, like as not!” Elmer Jones was
exclaiming, as he started to unwrap a rainproof coat he had been
thoughtful enough to provide for such occasions.
“Sounded more like a house falling down to me!” called Clint Babbett.
“I was dreaming of two railroad trains coming together, just when that
smash came,” announced Leslie Capes.
“And I was heading straight for the falls of Niagara, and could hear
the water roaring like everything,” confessed Nat Silmore.
Dan had not said a word up to then, and Dick, glancing toward him,
could see a proud look beginning to take possession of the other’s face.
“You’re all wrong, fellows!” exclaimed Dan, unable to hold in any
longer. “You’ve got another guess coming, I tell you. Don’t you
remember that it was over there that I set my trap? Well, she worked
all right, and mebbe I’ve got our wild man safely caged at this very
minute!”
The announcement created great excitement.
“Hey! let’s hurry and get some duds on, so we can go and see!” called
Peg, who was hopping about on one foot, as he had stubbed a toe in the
haste with which he rushed forth from his sleeping quarters.
“How about that, Mr. Bartlett?” asked Dick, seeing the camp director
among them, he having hurriedly slipped on a bath robe before making
his appearance.
“We ought to get there with as little waste of time as possible,”
replied Harry Bartlett, looking interested. “If it should turn out
that the trap has done what Dan intended, the poor fellow may be hurt
in some way, and it would be cruel for us to wait until morning to
investigate.”
“Whew! from the racket I should say something fierce had happened!”
declared Phil Harkness, as he hastened back to where his clothes hung
suspended from nails driven into the pole of sleeping tent Number Three.
There was some hurried work done about that time, as every lad wanted
to get himself in readiness as quickly as possible. Many hands quivered
with excitement, and buttons were much more difficult to fasten than
ordinarily.
One by one the boys assembled by the resurrected fire, some still
hurriedly fastening their garments. It was an excited group that
collected around Mr. Holwell, Mr. Bartlett, the physical director and
Dick, as camp leaders.
“Hadn’t we better take something along with us, to defend ourselves in
case he turns out to be ugly?” asked Dick.
“Yes, I suppose that would be only a wise provision,” returned Mr.
Holwell, “for one never knows what a crazy person may do. They are also
possessed of enormous strength as a usual thing. Get any sort of club
you can find, boys.”
There was an immediate hustling around on the part of the half-dressed
campers. Some managed to find suitable cudgels. Others picked up
anything they could see that promised to prove useful in an emergency.
Peg appropriated the camp hatchet, Ban Jansen the axe, while Andy Hale,
in lieu of anything better, armed himself with the stout iron rod which
they used across the fire when hanging a pot over the blaze.
Mr. Rowland had lighted the lantern. Others found blazing brands from
the fire, which they made into serviceable torches by whirling them
swiftly around their heads.
“Now come along,” said the camp director, smiling as he glanced around
and noted the unique character of the procession ready to trail after
him.
“I’d give a dollar, sure I would, to have a snap-shot of this bunch
right now,” declared Clint Babbett, who was becoming quite an expert
photographer, and aspired to win a prize by taking flashlight pictures
at night time of little wild animals in their native haunts.
Indeed, they certainly did look comical as they passed from the camp
and headed toward the spot where Dan had set his great trap. He bravely
acted as pilot of the expedition, since none but he knew just where
they were going.
Presently, from his cautious actions, the rest understood that they
were very close to their destination.
“Can you glimpse the trap yet, Dan?” asked Peg, eagerly, lowering his
voice as if afraid lest he start the prisoner into making new and
desperate efforts to escape from the toils.
“And is he inside?” inquired Fred Bonnicastle, with a gasp that told of
his interest.
“I can just begin to see the thing,” announced Dan, slowly, and Dick
thought he could detect the first shade of growing disappointment in
the other’s voice.
A few more steps, and then Dan spoke again.
“Hey! what does this mean?” he grumbled.
“Didn’t the trap work after all, Dan?” asked Peg, in a grieved tone.
“Work!” snorted Dan, huskily. “I should say it did. Only the maniac was
too much for me after all. He’s gone and busted my trap to flinders.”
Groans of disappointment welled up from numerous throats, and there
was a quickening of footsteps as all drew closer to the spot where the
wreck of the clumsy contrivance lay scattered around.
They stood and stared at the ruin. Dan shook his head, and drew in his
breath with a faint whistle that expressed intense astonishment.
“Say, he must have been a buster of a man!” he finally exclaimed,
bending down to examine some stout limbs that had been actually broken
in two as though by a mighty force. “He just got as mad as hops when it
dropped around him, and smashed things right and left. But, fellows, he
carried off the bait all right, I notice.”
“That shows he has an appetite after all,” remarked Mr. Holwell,
considerably amused at the happening, though at the same time feeling
that the situation bordered on a grave one, with such a terrible
denizen of the woods visiting their camp so frequently.
“After this he’ll be feeling kind of peeved at us for hurting him, I
guess,” ventured Peg.
“Well, if it comes to the worst,” Phil remarked, “we can some of us sit
up each night, and stand our turn on guard.”
“That sounds pleasant, I must say,” observed Elmer, with a half laugh.
The party once more returned to camp, and Mr. Bartlett told them not
to sit around talking matters over, but to get back to their blankets.
Indeed, the night air felt rather chilly, and the boys were not loath
to take this advice.
“Plenty of time to talk it all over in the morning,” the camp director
told them. “Perhaps by that time we may run across some sort of clue
that will put us on the track of the poor fellow. It strikes me we
ought to do our best to make him a prisoner while up here. If, as we
suspect, he turns out to be a lunatic, it would be little short of a
crime to leave him here to freeze in the winter time.”
One thing Dick noticed, and this was that while most of the boys
thought the visit from the wild man almost a tragedy one of their
number seemed to be particularly pleased over it.
This was Asa Gardner, who, from the time they first gathered after the
alarm was given, had been smiling contentedly. Dick could give a pretty
good guess why.
“Asa knows now,” Dick told himself, “that it couldn’t have been his
fault those things disappeared from our camp. He was lying beside me
sound asleep when the alarm came. So he figures that after all it must
have been this strange being who crept into our camp and stole the
bright things that caught his attention. Well, I’m glad for Asa’s sake,
that’s all.”
Some of the boys were nervous as they lay down. They half anticipated
a further visit from the unknown. The remainder of the night passed,
however, without further annoyance.
Sunday morning found the boys up early, and taking their cold plunge.
Mr. Holwell joined them, for from boyhood days a dip in the water on a
fine summer morning had always been a delicious treat for the minister.
The usual morning exercises were dispensed with, for Sunday is always
conducted on strictly religious lines in every genuine Y. M. C. A. camp.
After breakfast had been eaten and everything cleaned up about the
camp, the campers assembled to enjoy a little song service, after which
Mr. Holwell had promised to deliver his famous “boys’ sermon.”
Asa Gardner sought out Dick. Plainly the sensitive boy was feeling much
better than when he had had his last interview with his friend, Dick, a
fact the latter was pleased to note.
“You’re coming around to my way of thinking, I guess, Asa?” he remarked.
Asa turned his eyes up toward Dick.
“Yes,” he said, softly, “I believe it’s going to come out all right
now, Dick, for my dear mother came to me in my dreams last night, and
she told me I would win the fight! Oh! I’m so glad, so glad, and I owe
a heap to you, that’s right!”