Fred’s mother was listening with sudden interest. “What are you planning, boys?” she asked.
Fred explained, observing that her face took on a shade of anxiety.
“Now don’t begin to worry, mother,” he begged. “You know Roy and I are both careful with guns, and there isn’t a bit of danger. I don’t want to fret you, but I hope you won’t object.”
She sighed a little. “I suppose it’s foolish, but I can’t help feeling anxious about you when you go gunning. However, your father bought you the gun, and, now that you have it, it wouldn’t seem reasonable for me to seek to prevent you from getting some pleasure through the use of it.”
“All boys love a gun,” smiled Andrew Sage, “and the right sort of a boy rarely gets hurt with one.”
“Then it’s all fixed,” laughed Roy. “Get everything ready to start right away after school, Fred. Take along a blanket, for you’ll need it in the old camp. If we have any luck at all, we ought to bring home some ducks.”
Roy had been gone some time when Fred’s mother came up quietly behind his chair, bent over him and put her arms about his neck.
“Don’t think me foolish, my dear,” she said in a low tone. “You understand why I can’t help worrying. You’re the only boy I have left, now.”
CHAPTER IX.
THE CAMP IN THE WOODS.
Something over four miles from Oakdale Abel Hubbard reined his horse into an old road which led from the main highway into the depths of the woods. Fred and Roy, with their outfits, were in the wagon, and, the time being short ere darkness must come on, they urged Hubbard to make haste.