Stanley declared he had made good use of his camera, and hoped the results would come up to expectations. All of them united in saying that it had been an adventure worth while; and apparently their sympathies were wholly with the gallant buck, for they expressed a fervent hope that he would succeed in outrunning his canine enemies.
Somehow in the course of the conversation mention was made of Tony Pollock and his crowd.
“I heard Tony tell a story of having seen a deer pulled down somewhere in the forest last fall by a pack of ugly dogs,” related George Cooper. “At the time I believed he was only yarning, though he vowed black and blue it was so. He said the dogs looked and acted so ugly that he thought it best to clear out before they turned on him.”
“Like as not this same pack,” remarked Tom. “They say that once a dog has taken to that savage sort of life nothing can ever coax him to go back to living with mankind again. It’s in the blood, that call of the wild.”
“Well,” chuckled Josh, “we know of another kind of call of the wild that’s going to be heard in the land pretty soon, when Farmer Sile Perkins faces Tony. He will demand double pay for the chickens Tony and his crowd stole, on penalty of his being arrested if he doesn’t whack up. Oh I can just see Tony begin to crawl then; and I wonder how he’ll get the money.”
Carl was saying little or nothing, and Tom knew why. Here they had been on the hike several days, and as yet there had arisen not a single chance for him to get in touch with Dock Phillips.
Tom understood that another spell of dark foreboding was beginning to enfold his chum. At the first opportunity he could find, Tom joined Carl. The latter had thrown himself down on the bank some distance away from the camp, where he could be in the shade, and yet look out on the sunlit water, which just then had a most attractive aspect.
“You’re worrying again because nothing has happened as we hoped would be the case, eh, Carl?” was what the patrol leader said as he dropped down close to the moody scout.
Carl sighed heavily.
“Perhaps it’s foolish of me, Tom,” he said, with a curious little break in his voice, which he tried hard to master; “but once in so often it seems as if something gripped me, and made me shiver. It’s when I get to thinking what little real progress I am making that this chilly spell comes along.”