CHAPTER XI.
THE CAMPERS.
AS midday approached, the weather grew warmer. Harvey Hamilton left his traveling bag at the home of Aunt Hephzibah Akers, since he did not intend to journey far, and it would be easy to go back when necessary. Most of the distance between him and the tent on the edge of the lake was a gradual slope downward, through the usual underbrush and around occasional rocks and boulders, but the traveling, on the whole, was not difficult, and he made fair progress. He doffed his outer coat and slung it over an arm as a sort of balance to the field glass suspended by a cord from the opposite shoulder.
He remembered that when he peeped down from his aeroplane he saw no signs of any one near the tent, but if the owners had gone on a tramp as he supposed, some of them had returned during the brief interval. While drawing near along the beach he saw a man a little to one side of the primitive dwelling, where he had started a fire and was evidently preparing the noonday meal. His companion lifted the flap, stooped, and was in the act of passing from sight when Harvey caught his first good view of the tent from the ground. A little later the other person came out. This brought him face to face with Harvey when about a hundred paces separated them. The back of his companion was toward the caller of whose coming as yet he was not aware.
Harvey had noticed that they were attired in modern camping costume, with leggings, gray flannel shirts, and caps instead of hats. A gaudy handkerchief was knotted loosely about the neck and dangled over the shirt front, across which the big red letters “C A & W E S” could be traced, as far as the young men themselves were distinguishable.
The one who confronted Harvey looked at him for an instant, and then touched the forefinger of his hand to his cap in military salute. The visitor returned it and pushed on. The second camper heard his footfall and wheeled around.
“How do you do, sir?” he called. “We’re glad to see you.”
They both offered their hands as Harvey went forward. He was won by their hospitality and cheeriness of manner. He explained:
“I am Harvey Hamilton, from Mootsport, New Jersey, and I have come to the Adirondacks on a strange errand in which perhaps you can help me.”
“It will give us pleasure to do so,” replied the one with the briarwood. As he made this answer Harvey distinctly saw him wink at his companion, who returned the trivial and yet often significant signal. The young aviator was mystified, for he suspected instinctively that something was back of it.
“We are sophomores at Yale, and are up here on a little outing. My name is Val Hunter, and I am from Vicksburg, Mississippi. This ugly looking tramp with me is Fred Wadsworth, from the wilds of western New York. We have a third member who sneaked off with our boat this morning and there’s no saying when we shall see him again.”