DEEP IN THE WOODS
"What do you suppose was the reason that old lumberman didn't want to hear Mr. Stevenson's name mentioned?" questioned Randy of Jack, about half an hour later, when the four cadets were tramping through the woods again to resume their hunting.
"I'm sure I don't know, Randy," was the slow reply. "Evidently he was very bitter over something."
"Having the same name, it looks to me as if this Uncle Barney, as they call him, might be some relative of Ruth's family," said Fred.
"More than likely."
"Maybe he's some cast-off relation, who got into trouble with them and then took himself off to that Snowshoe Island," was Fred's comment.
"I'd have asked him some more questions if he hadn't acted so ugly about it," went on Jack.
"Yes. But he seemed to be a very nice sort of man otherwise," put in Andy quickly.
"I agree with you there." Jack gave a little sigh. "There must be some mystery to it."
"Why don't you ask Ruth about it some time?"
"I will, when I get a good chance to do it. Of course, if it's some sort of family affair, I'm not going to butt in."
Before the Rover boys had left the cabin of Bill Hobson, they had been assured by old Uncle Barney that he was feeling fairly comfortable and that the owner of the place would look after him until he recovered. Barney Stevenson had mentioned Snowshoe Island several times, and had told the boys again that he was sorry he could not reward them for coming to his assistance, but that if they ever cared to visit his island, he would do his best to make them feel at home and show them where the best hunting in that vicinity was to be had. He had also mentioned the fact that there was a vacant cabin close to his own on the island, and that they would be welcome to camp out there at any time they chose to do so.
"I'd like to visit his place some time," said Fred, "just to see how the old fellow lives. I'll bet he's got quite a comfortable outfit there."
"He may live in very queer style," returned Randy. "According to what he says, and what that Bill Hobson told me, he must be a good deal of a hermit."
"Maybe he committed some sort of crime and the other Stevensons cast him off," suggested Andy.
"Oh, I can't think that! He didn't look to be a criminal," returned Jack. "Don't you remember what he said about taking up his residence on the island after his wife died? Maybe that loss made him feel as if he didn't want to mingle with the rest of the world."
The boys talked the matter over for some time, but could reach no conclusion whatever regarding the way the old lumberman had acted when Frederic Stevenson's name had been mentioned. Then, however, they stirred up some more squirrels and rabbits, and in the excitement of the chase that subject, for the time being, was forgotten.
They had brought a lunch with them, and at noon they found a convenient spot and there built a small campfire, over which they made themselves a can of hot chocolate, and this, with some sandwiches and some doughnuts, constituted the repast. Andy wanted to take time to clean a couple of the squirrels and cook them, but Jack and the others were afraid this would take too long, and so the idea had to be abandoned.
"Gee! but this tramping through the woods gives a fellow an appetite!" cried Andy, after he had eaten his second sandwich and his third doughnut. "I could eat a whole rabbit or a squirrel myself." And then, feeling in fine fettle, he proceeded to pull himself up on a near-by tree limb and "skin the cat," as it is called by acrobatic boys.
"You look out, young man, that you don't tumble down on your head," warned Jack. "This ground around here is frozen pretty hard."
"If I tumble, I know where I'll land," cried Andy gleefully; and, swinging himself back and forth on the tree limb, he suddenly let go and came down straight on Jack's shoulders. Both went down in the snow, and there rolled over and over, each trying to get the better of the other. Then Fred commenced to snowball the fallen pair, and Randy joined in; and a moment later there began a snowball fight on the part of all four which lasted about ten minutes.
"Cease firing!" cried Fred at last, as he dug some of the snow out of his left ear. "If this is going to be a snowballing contest, all right; but I thought we were out to do some hunting."
"Fred surrenders, and the war is over!" cried Jack.
"Hoist the milk-blue flag and call it off!" burst out Andy gleefully. "Throw the snowballs into the ice-cream freezer and season to taste!"
After that the four young hunters packed up their belongings and saw to it that the campfire was completely extinguished. Then they continued on their tramp in the vicinity of the Rick Rack River.
"I'm getting tired of hanging around this watercourse," said Fred finally. "I believe the reports of our guns have driven all the remaining game away. Why can't we strike off into the woods yonder and come in on the other side of Haven Point?"
They noted the position of the sun with care, and then struck off at right angles to the river. Soon they found themselves going up hill and presently struck a lumberman's trail leading down in the direction of the town. Here, however, after two hours of hunting, they failed to find any game whatever.
"We didn't improve things by coming over here," grumbled Andy.
"Now I guess we had better be thinking of getting back to the school," said Jack, as he consulted his watch. They had been told that they must return in time for the evening meal.
"All right, I'm ready to go," came from Fred. "Gosh! I wish I had a horse to ride, or something." The many miles of tramping had wearied him greatly.
"My left foot is beginning to hurt me a little," put in Randy. "I slipped on the rocks this morning when we were carrying that old Uncle Barney. I didn't think much of it at the time, but now it's growing quite lame."
"You can walk on it, can't you?" questioned Jack anxiously.
"Oh, yes, I can walk; but I can't go any too fast—or any too far, either."
The boys had done their best to keep track of where they were going, and now they turned in what they thought was the direction of Haven Point. But, as my young readers may have heard, it is an easy matter to lose one's sense of direction in the woods, and before they knew it, they found themselves in a locality that was entirely strange to them.
"We don't seem to be getting much closer to town," announced Fred presently. "I don't see a farmhouse of any sort in sight."
They had gone but a short distance when they stirred up several more rabbits, and had the pleasure of bringing two of the creatures down. Then they came to a small clearing, and beyond this some farm fields.
"Now we must be getting to somewhere," announced Randy; and a few minutes later a turn of the road brought them in sight of a farmhouse. Here they saw a farmer coming from a cowshed with a pail of foaming milk, and accosted him.
"Sure, you're on the road to Haven Point," answered the farmer, in reply to their question. "It's about two miles and a half from here. But do you want to go to the Point or to Colby Hall?" he went on, noticing their uniforms.
"We want to get to the Hall—and by as short a route as possible," answered Jack.
"Then the best thing you lads can do is to come right through my lane here and go across the back field. Then you will come out on the road that runs from the Hall to Carwell. I guess you know that?"
"Oh, yes; we know that road," returned Randy.
The cadets thanked the farmer for his information, and lost no time in following his directions. Soon they came out on the other highway, and then started forward as rapidly as their somewhat weary legs would permit.
When they reached the vicinity of Colby Hall Jack found, by again consulting his watch, that they were almost three-quarters of an hour late.
"Let's see if we can't slide in without any of the teachers seeing us," suggested Andy.
"Oh, I don't know that we've got to do that, Andy," returned Jack. "We haven't done anything wrong."
"Well, we are late, and you know some of the teachers won't stand for that."
"We had permission to go hunting, and we couldn't help it getting lost up there in the woods," answered his twin.
They were just about to enter one of the side doors of the Hall, when it was flung open and they found themselves confronted by one of the younger teachers, accompanied by Professor Lemm. They stepped to one side to let the teachers pass.
"Yes, as I remarked before, Tompkins, unless you have strict discipline in that class——" Asa Lemm was saying, when, of a sudden, he happened to glance at the cadets and recognized the Rovers. "What are you doing here? Where have you been?" he demanded, coming to an abrupt halt.
"We've been out hunting, sir," answered Jack.
"Hunting, eh?" And as was usual with him, Asa Lemm drew down the corners of his mouth.
"We had permission from Colonel Colby to go," put in Randy.
"Ah, well, in that case——" Asa Lemm paused for a moment. "Did he say you could stay out as late as this?" he added suddenly.
"We had permission to stay out until supper time," answered Jack.
"Don't you know it is an hour after that time now, Rover?"
"Three-quarters of an hour, Professor. We might have been on time, only my cousin here slipped on the rocks and hurt his ankle, and that has delayed us a little."
"Humph! always some excuse! You boys have got to learn to be on time. You'll never get through life unless you are punctual. I shall mention the fact of your being late to Colonel Colby. Now go in at once, and if you are too late to get anything to eat, it will be your own fault;" and thus speaking, Asa Lemm moved on with the other teacher.
"Oh, but he's the sourest old lemon that ever grew!" was Andy's comment.
"You never said anything truer than that, Andy," answered his twin.