THE MOUNTAIN BOYS IN CAMP
"Whoopee! Hello, X-Ray, where'd you pick it up?"
When Ethan called this out the paddler waved at them, and laughed.
"Wait till I push her nose up on that fine sandy beach, and I'll tell
you all about it, boys," he answered.
Two minutes later and the prow of the birch bark canoe glided softly up
on the shore. Laying his paddle down in the boat X-Ray proceeded to pass
along toward the bow, so that he could step out without getting his feet
wet. Meanwhile Lub was looking the canoe over, noting that it seemed to
be in very good condition, and not at all weather worn, as though it had
been lying in the bushes for several winters and summers.
"I ran across her," the finder started in to explain, "while I was
pushing along through the scrub, meaning to get to a certain point. I'd
picked up some hoppers and crickets, and wanted to give the trout a try,
to see if they were hungry. Whoever owned the boat had hid her away; and
not so long ago, either, for there was a wet streak on her keel that no
rain had made. She was lying bottom-up, of course."
"Have you been fishing in the canoe all this time?" asked Phil, sniffing
the air, and then stepping forward to look for himself; upon which X-Ray
bent over and lifted out a string of a dozen pretty fair-sized trout.
"How's that for a starter, eh, Ethan?" he demanded joyously. "Think you
can beat that for a beginning? Right back of that point there's the boss
bay; and say, you couldn't drop in a stone without hitting a trout,
they're that thick. I stuck right in the same place all along; no need
to move around."
"You got a fine mess, though I believe I could eat that many myself,"
ventured Lub, eyeing the string hungrily.
"Oh! we can get all we want," he was told; "it's only a question of
finding the bait. They're just asking to be taken on. It's hit and come
with them as soon as you drop your line in. The bait hardly sinks a foot
before it's taken. I never saw anything like it in all my life. And
fight, say, they bent my rod double lots of times. I lost more'n I
saved."
"But about the canoe," Phil went on to say, "the chances are it must
belong to whoever was in our cabin before we came."
"That stands to reason, seems to me," Ethan agreed.
"Well, he had the use of your shack, goodness knows how long, Phil,"
said Lub, with an imitation of his father's solemn manner when
delivering an opinion from the bench; "and it's only fair you have the
use of his boat. Tit for tat, you know. One balances the other. Besides,
we are not supposed to know whose boat it is."
"There's something else I wanted to tell you about," remarked X-Ray.
He was thrusting a hand inside his coat as he spoke; and when it came
out again the others saw that it held something like a buff colored
envelope, torn open.
"Now, I found this same when I was nosing around," he explained. "It was
caught tight away under this seat in the bow, and must have been blown
there by the wind."
"Looks like one of those telegraph envelopes," remarked Lub.
"Which is exactly what it is," said X-Ray Tyson, as he offered the
object in question to Phil. "There's an enclosure inside; read it, and
see what you can make of the same. It got me balled up a whole lot, I'm
telling you."
Phil quickly had the enclosure out. It was a printed form, and had a
message written upon it.
"John Newton:
Winchester, N. Y. (hold until called for).
"Stay where you are. Search grows warmer daily. Too bad for
both you can't compromise.
"RUTGERS."
Phil read it all out slowly, and Lub listened very seriously.
"First," Phil went on to say, "the man's name, or the one he goes by
right now, is John Newton. It may be assumed, and I 'reckon the chances
are all that way. He seems to be in hiding, just as we thought. This is
a friend who's warning him not to think of leaving his nest yet awhile.
The question is, what terrible thing has he done, and who's hunting for
him?"
"If you asked me," ventured Lub, composedly, "I'd say it was all as
plain as print. This man must be a counterfeit money-maker. The Secret
Service people are looking for him everywhere, because, like as not he's
big game. And you can see how this Rutgers, who is of course a chap of
the same kind, is telling him how hot the hunt is getting to be."
"It does look a little that way," admitted Phil; "there's only one thing
that bothers me."
"Go on and explain what you mean," urged Ethan.
"The last part of the message doesn't seem to go with that sort of an
explanation," said Phil.
"As how? Read it again, and let us see, Phil," Lub requested.
"'Too bad for both you can't compromise.' Now, the Government never
allows itself to enter into any bargain where a rascal can get off. He
may turn State's evidence against his pals, and in that way get lighter
punishment; but there can be no such a thing as compromising a felony
against the United States Government!"
"Phil, you're right about that, and I know it!" declared Lub,
ponderously.
"I'll keep this telegram, if you've no objection," Phil continued; "and
try to hit on some other sort of explanation later on. If we only had
the key, this mystery would all be simple enough, I'm thinking."
"Well, what matters most to us is that we've got the canoe, and can find
lots of uses for the same while we're up here at Lake Surprise,"
commented X-Ray.
It was decided a little later on, after the trout had been prepared,
that as the fish looked so inviting, they might as well start right in
by having a feast at noon.
"Well, anyway, it'll get us fixed for better things later on," sighed
Lub, as he contemplated the three that would fall to his portion, and
noted how small a mess that was going to be.
However, he did prove that he knew how to cook them splendidly. When
handed around they were well browned, and as sweet as could be. Every
one complimented Lub on his feat, and begged him to keep up the good
work, which he readily agreed to do, never once appearing to realize
that he was proving an "easy mark."
During the meal he was joked more or less about not having made a start
with his screen on top of the chimney, and this must have spurred him
on to showing his chums that he had conceived a clever scheme looking to
that end.
First of all he managed to roll several logs against the lower part of
the cabin. These upon being lifted in a pile formed a means for climbing
up on to the roof. Without some such assistance Lub would have had no
end of trouble in getting started on his self chosen job.
The others paid little or no attention to what he was doing, since they
had various plans for passing the afternoon away. In fact, while Phil
meant to take a wider detour of the neighborhood, to look for signs of
game he could photograph, X-Ray had badgered Ethan into agreeing to
accompany him out on the lake, to see which would catch the greater
number of fish before evening came on.
They were now industriously searching for grubs, crickets, grasshoppers,
or even angle worms, so as to tempt the fat trout to take hold.
It was while this was going on that a muffled cry came to their ears.
"Listen! wasn't that some one calling for help?" demanded Ethan,
scrambling to his feet, with a can that had held Boston baked beans in
his hand, into which he had been introducing crickets, and such things,
it having only small holes punched in its sides, besides the larger one
which he kept stopped with a handful of grass.
"There it goes again," said X-Ray, turning all around, as though so
bewildered that he could not place the direction from which the call
came.
"Look at Phil, will you, how he's putting for the cabin!" ejaculated
Ethan.
"Do you think it can be a bear, or a panther, or anything like that; and
is he meaning to shut himself in?" asked the other, his voice showing
signs of trembling in spite of his well known bravery.
"Shucks! no, don't you see he's aiming to reach the back of the cabin,
where Lub's heaped up that stuff? He's meaning to climb on the roof! It
must be Lub's fallen part-way down the old chimney, and stuck there.
Hurry and let's get along to help pull him out!"
With that they started on a mad run. As the shack was close at hand they
managed to arrive at almost the same time Phil clambered on the roof.
For such nimble fellows the task of mounting to the roof was not a
difficult one. When they reached there they found that Phil was leaning
over, and seemed to be giving directions.
"Is it Lub; and has he fallen down inside?" asked X-Ray, quickly, hardly
knowing whether to burst out into a laugh, or look sorrowful.
"Yes, and it happens that he's stuck there in such a way he can't go
down any further, and isn't able to climb up. You hold on to me, both of
you, while I lean in and see if I can get hold of his hands."
"Tell us when to yo-heave-o, will you, Phil?"
"Something'll have to come; only I hope we don't pull his arms off!"
chuckled Ethan, beginning to see the humor of the situation, now that it
looked as though Lub was not hurt in any way, only "discommoded," as he
afterwards called it.
So while Phil leaned over, and thrust himself part-way down into the
gaping aperture, his two comrades, seizing hold of his lower
extremities, prepared to pull with might and main.
"Now, get busy!" they heard a half-muffled voice say, and at that X-Ray
and Ethan began to tug.
There was heard considerable groaning and puffing, but they were not to
be denied. Slowly but surely Phil's body was coming upward, until
finally the head of Lub appeared above the top of the slab-and-hard-mud
chimney.
"I know it's a tough joke on me, boys," he said, humbly enough, after he
had clambered on to the roof, and rubbed some of his scraped joints with
more or less feeling; "but after all it was an accident."
"How was that, Lub?" asked X-Ray, examining a number of stout stakes
which apparently had been cut to certain lengths, and were intended to
be fastened crossways in the chimney, being pounded into position with
the hatchet.
"Why, I had one of those prison bars in position, and unfortunately
leaned too hard on the same," Lub explained.
"The pesky thing betrayed your confidence, did it?" demanded Ethan.
"Just about how it happened," the other continued, frankly. "I must have
tried to save myself, more through intuition than because I had time to
think about it. Anyway I got doubled up somehow; and that's the reason I
stuck in the flue. One thing I'm glad of, and that is you fellows were
close by, and could hear me yelp. If you'd gone off I might have had to
stay there all afternoon; and let me tell you it would have been no
joke."
"Ready to give it up as a bad job, are you, Lub?" questioned X-Ray.
"What, me quit for a little thing like that?" burst out the other; "I
should hope I was a better stayer than that, boys. It only makes me
clinch my teeth, and resolve to conquer or die."
"Well, please don't die in our chimney flue," begged Ethan; "because you
know we need it to keep our fire going, so we can cook three meals a
day. I think you must have pounded that first bar down a little too far,
that's all, Lub. Better luck next time!"
They left him industriously at work. Having found to his sorrow where
his mistake was, Lub would be more careful in the near future. And when
he finished his task no 'coon or squirrel would find it possible to have
access to the cabin by means of the chimney, unless they first gnawed
through the parallel bars.
Shortly afterwards, having succeeded in procuring a good supply of bait,
the two ambitious fishermen pushed off in the bark canoe. Ethan held the
paddle, for he was a master-hand at this sort of work, and could propel
such a light running boat with the deftness of an Adirondack guide,
hardly a ripple being stirred, with the paddle never once taken from the
water.
Then Phil wandered off, after giving Lub directions for summoning them
back should any necessity arise, which of course they had no reason to
believe would be the case.
Engrossed in his work of hunting high and low for signs of his quarry
Phil passed an hour or more. Then he returned to camp, and found Lub
resting after his labors, having completed his task. From his manner it
was easy to see that he felt quite well satisfied with what he had done.
Later on they heard loud calls, and saw the other boys coming in. X-Ray
was wielding the spruce blade now; and in the bow Ethan held up two long
strings of glistening and still squirming trout, as trophies to their
united prowess with hook, rod and line.
"It's beginning to get pretty warm work between us," said X-Ray, as they
stepped ashore. "I got nineteen this afternoon while Ethan he reached
twenty-six; so even with my twelve before that I'm only five ahead in
the count. All trout, so variety isn't in the game yet. He hooked a
sockdolager, but his line broke. Yet I'm willing to admit he's got one
there that goes ahead of any I've taken. Get the scales and we'll
measure up, Ethan."
Lub rubbed his hands together when he learned how much in earnest the
rivals were becoming.
"I reckon now, Phil," he said aside to the other, "we're just going to
feast on these here trout all the time we're stopping at your hotel.
Encourage 'em to keep the game going. First we'll make out to think
Ethan is bound to win; and then we can switch off on to X-Ray."
"You're getting to be a regular schemer, Lub," commented Phil, though he
took occasion later on to follow out the advice given, and thus increase
the seeds of rivalry between the fishermen.
They had a glorious mess of trout for supper, and even Lub owned up that
it was utterly impossible for him to stow away another one, so that
several had to be wasted. None of them had yet shown any signs of
becoming tired of the deliciously browned trout, and Lub even declared
that if they would get him up betimes in the morning he would fry
another batch.
"The night favors my plan, because you see how it's clouded up," Phil
was saying, as he prepared to go and set his trap.
"That is, you mean you need darkness, because your camera has to be set
ready to take the picture," Lub remarked.
"Well," said Phil, "that's the way photographers do when taking an
interior, but I've got an arrangement attached to my camera that works
different. When the animal pulls the string that is connected with the
flash light apparatus he does something more. He exposes the plate for
just a quarter of a minute."
"A time exposure, you mean," remarked Ethan. "If you've no objections,
Phil, I think I'd like to go along, and see how you set the thing."
Phil looked pleased.
"Only too glad to have you, Ethan," he told the other.
Ethan had been the one who only lately had scorned the idea that any
hunter could find so much delight in "shooting" game with a camera as in
other days he had done with a gun.
Phil began to feel encouraged. He knew only too well, from his own
personal experience, that once the seed had taken root it was bound to
sprout and grow rapidly.
Ethan's genuine love of all out-doors, together with a nature that could
not be called cruel, would make it fallow ground that the seed had
fallen upon. Results were sure to follow.
So Phil led the way to the place where he had discovered that one or
more of a colony of 'coons had actually made a trail leading to the
lake, going and coming so many times.
He had half jokingly declared that they went down when fish hungry to
look for an unwary trout. Whether this could really be so or not Phil of
course was in no position to prove.
"But they do eat fish," Ethan remarked, as they walked along together;
"I've seen a big buck 'coon snatch one out of the water. Some people say
they bob the end of their striped tail on the surface as they sit on a
log, and in that way lure a fish close in. As I never saw such a thing
you'll have to take the story with a grain of salt."
He was really very much interested in the way Phil set his trap, and
asked a lot of questions, all of which the other obligingly answered.
And after everything had been arranged the two chums who had such a
mutual love for the Great Outdoors walked back to the Birch Bark Lodge
in company.