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.