"All right, if you're willing to take such a terrible risk it's nothing to the rest of us, is it, fellows?" Landy told him, with a chuckle; and then went on to add: "Now, we'll carry a little sugar water along to use if we happen to run across any bees flying around, which at this late day ain't likely. Best we can do is to watch every tree-top and try to hear the buzzing of a swarm of young bees. They come out every fine day as long as the weather lets 'em, around noontime, and try their wings. An old bee hunter can get on to the little hum far off and locate the hive that way. Let's see if we've got ears worth anything."
"The best of luck go with you!" called out Elmer, who was busy with something or other; "and if you need any help come back after the rest of the bunch. I see you're carrying our camp ax, Lil Artha; be careful and don't lose it, because we need that same thing right along."
"Don't worry about that, Elmer," the elongated scout shouted back. "I wouldn't let that get away from me for all the honey in seven counties. But in case we do find a tree that looks good to us I'm ready to swing the ax for all I'm worth," and so saying he strode away after the other three.
That left just Elmer, Toby and George in camp.
"I'd be tickled half to death if they did find a tree, and got a lot of honey," Toby remarked, grinning in anticipation, and licking his lips at the same time; "and I can just see that Lil Artha whooping things when the tree drops, and he rushes headlong in among the branches to scoop up some of the sweet stuff that bursts out of the crack, with a million bees swarming around his ears. If I was you, Elmer, I'd get some witch hazel ready to put on stings, for they'll need it right bad."
"Time enough for that when they report a find!" declared Elmer, who evidently did not have a great deal of confidence in the ability of Landy Smith to locate a hive, especially at that time of year, when the little insects were apt to be lying more or less dormant.
An hour passed by. Then Elmer began to wonder what could be detaining Chatz so long, for he several times looked in the direction where he knew the old deserted Cartaret house must lie, as though half expecting to see the Southern boy come on the full run, with some wonderful story of sights he had seen, or imagined he had, which was the same thing.
When Chatz did appear he was walking slowly, and his face had an expression of subdued disappointment resting on it. Apparently, then, all his prowling in and out of the building could not have met with any particular reward. In other words the Cartaret ghost was not very accommodating, and respectfully declined to make its appearance at such an unheard of hour as three in the afternoon; when every one knew that all respectable spirits only manifest themselves around the midnight hour.
"You didn't run across anything new, did you, Chatz?" Elmer asked him, as he came into camp, took a drink of cool water, and threw himself on the ground to rest.
"Not a single thing, suh; but then I didn't really expect to in broad daylight. Wait till to-night, and I reckon there may be something doing," and then Chatz allowed his brow to show three wrinkles that told of perplexity, for he had heard Elmer chuckle; and all at once it struck him that on the former occasion the scout master had gone back into the house after he and the other comrades had left; and once more the Southern boy who had the vein of superstition in his make-up asked himself what Elmer could have seen on that occasion to make him look so knowing, and have that queer smile cross his face whenever the ghost was mentioned.