Joe found a place on board, as there was no room in the tent. Besides, he had not a temperament that delighted in such things, and would only too gladly have always felt sure of having a good roof over him at night.
The four boys were a bit crowded. Still, they joked over the thing as they settled down, and after a time only the glow of the still burning fire told that human beings were somewhere near by.
They slept soundly, despite the close quarters, since the air was cool, and, for a wonder, no mosquitoes worried them. Those who were dreaming must have imagined the end of the world had suddenly arrived, for the tent was, without the least warning, knocked down, leaving the four amazed boys scrambling and shouting under the canvas, and trying to crawl out from the wreckage.
CHAPTER XXII
THE MESSAGE FROM THE AIR
"What struck us?" And Bluff poked his head out from under the canvas, looking for all the world like a tortoise, Frank thought, as he followed suit.
"Tell me about that, will you! Where's the villain who cut the ropes? I can whip him with one hand!" panted Jerry, struggling in a mess of camp necessities, and kicking around among the aluminum ware that Frank prized so highly.
"Where's my camera? Some fellow has run off with my camera!" wailed Will.
By this time Frank had extricated himself from the wreckage and began to assist the others to regain their feet. No one seemed to be seriously injured, and the mystery was great. What had happened to smash down their tent in that strange way?
"The ropes were never cut, fellows!" announced Bluff, after a hasty examination.