Several people, near by, fancied they had heard a shot, and turned, curiously. Then, as soon as Benson was espied lying on the ground a rush was made in his direction.
At that moment Hal Hastings happened to be looking over toward the beach. Like a flash he was up and away, his magazine falling from his lap to the ground.
"Now, what on earth has taken Hastings off like that?" demanded Mr. Farnum, looking around in surprise. "There are other people running, too. Come along, Dave!"
Hal shot his way through the rapidly gathering crowd. He reached Jack
Benson just as the latter leaped up, laughing.
"Why all this excitement, just because I stubbed my toe against a dew-drop and fell?" demanded Benson, laughing.
"Weren't you shot?" gasped Hal.
"If I was, I'll make the rascal prove it," asked back Captain Jack.
"But, now you mention it, I think the tree was hit."
Jack turned and looked the tree trunk over at about the height of his own head from the ground.
"See here," he remarked, laying a finger on a small perforation in the bark, "I think a bullet, or something of the sort, went in here."
"We'll soon find out then," proposed Hal, whipping out his jack-knife, opening a blade and beginning to dig. The crowd grew in size. Messrs. Farnum and Pollard had great difficulty in forcing their way through.