CHAPTER VIITHE QUEER ACTIONS OF STEVE
"Listen, and see if it comes again!" said Bandy-legs, with bated breath.
The four campers sat there for several tense minutes, each one almost holding his breath in the effort to train his ears so as not to miss the slightest sound that might come.
"Whoo—whoo—whoo!"
After all their great expectations, to hear this solemn cry from the depths of the woods made several of the chums chuckle.
"Good evening, Mister Owl!" Bandy-legs called out, with mock respect. "Hope all the little Owls are feeling quite well to-night. Glad to have us for company, are you? Well, we're just tickled to death to be with you, believe me."
"But s-s-say, that wasn't what we heard the other t-t-time!" objected Toby, in some dismay, as though he feared he might have been dreadfully deceived by mistaking the booming hoot of a horned owl for the roar of a lion.
"Oh! no, of course not, Toby," Max hastened to assure him; "but it seems as though there isn't going to be anyencoreto that other noise."
"Then h-h-how are we agoin' to decide w-w-what it was?"
"We might take a vote, and see how we stand on it," laughed Max.
"Bull or lion, eh?" suggested Steve.
"There's a few clouds floating around loose," remarked Bandy-legs, as though in an uncertain state himself; "and p'raps after all that was a grumble of faraway thunder."
"S-s-s'pose somebody could be doin' blastin' up around here?"
This was a new idea that appealed to Toby. He sometimes startled his comrades by having an original thought.
"That isn't such an impossible thing after all, Toby," admitted Max, after considering it for a brief time; "although so far as I'm concerned I don't think it was either thunder, or a blast."
"That brings us back to the original question—bull or lion?" Steve pursued.
"We may never know which, if it isn't repeated," Bandy-legs observed, sagely; for not wanting to be outdone by Toby he had racked his brain in vain to find another possible explanation, and had to give it up.
"Well, whoever goes for eggs and milk to-morrow," began Max, "ought to make a little investigation on his own account. Perhaps he might manage to pick up a few points that will help us decide this mystery."
"You m-m-mean ask the f-f-farmer whether hek-k-keeps a bull, or a roarin' old l-l-lion in his b-b-barn?"
"Ask about the bull, anyway," Max told him. "And if we learn that he's the owner of such an animal, find out if the beast gives a bellow once in a while."
"All right, that's settled then," Steve announced. "If I happen to be one of the pair chosen to take that little excursion I'll put it up straight to the old hayseed, and learn the truth. But say, hadn't we better be changing the subject some, fellows. It isn't always a good thing to get talkingtooseriously about things like this just before you drop off to bed."
"W-w-why?" asked Toby, suspiciously, for he had noticed that Steve grinned somewhat when saying this, and gave him a quick look.
"Oh! well," the other continued, "you never can tell what sort of an impression things make on one's mind, and are carried with you into dreamland. I've done some queer stunts myself away back when I had the bad habit of seeing things in my sleep. And I know a fellow who thought he was in the heart of Africa watching the savage beasts come down to a waterhole to drink, and then getting up in the morning to discover the whole shooting-match had taken up quarters in his back yard. You never know what's going to happen."
"That's right, you don't," added Bandy-legs, and shaking his forefinger at Toby dramaticallyhe continued: "Now see here, Toby, just you quit dreaming about lions and elephants and rhinoceroses and such things. Dreams come true sometimes. Think we want to wake up in the mornin' to find a lion sitting on that stump over there; a striped jungle tiger perched in this tree waiting for his breakfast; and an old rogue elephant spoutin' water from our creek all over the camp? Just start thinking of apple pies, custards and that sort of thing, and sleep sound."
Toby only grinned back at him, and made no reply.
"How about keeping watch to-night?" remarked Steve, some time later.
"Oh! I don't believe that's absolutely necessary," Max informed him.
"Some of us are light sleepers anyway," suggested Bandy-legs.
"That's me, as a rule!" Steve instantly declared; "and a cat couldn't walk across the floor of my room without me waking up and asking who was there. Then again it seems as if when I hit the hay I never know a thing till daylight comes. They may tell me we had a heavy storm in the middle of the night, but it didn't faze me one little bit. I don't know why that should be, unless it depends on what I've been eating for supper."
"Well," Max told him, "let's hope then that this is going to be one of the nights when you're on guard, and that if anything tried to carry Toby off you'll hear him let out a yell."
"And then, Steve, remember we've got some prime provisions with us, that might tempt a hungry 'coon or a fox. If so be you hear stealthy footfalls like padded feet, get your gun ready to shoot."
"I will, Bandy-legs, never you fear," Steve informed him. "Something tells me this is going to be one of my wakeful nights; so the rest of you can sleep right along as comfy as bugs in a rug. I'll do the watching for the crowd."
Max made no further comment, but had Steve noticed the raising of his eyebrows, and the smile that flitted across his face, he might have suspected that the other entertained serious doubts concerning the wisdom of depending wholly on his continuing to be on the alert during that coming period when the rest of them would give themselves up to sound slumber.
In other words Max had privately determined that it was up to him to keep his finger on the pulse of passing events. He too was a light sleeper, once he had impressed the fact upon his mind that there was need of keeping on the alert; and few movements could take place in camp without Max being wise to them.
All due preparations had been completed looking to a period of calm. The horse was staked in a fresh spot, where he could eat to his heart's content; and such of their provisions that they thought might tempt prowling animals they hadhung on the limbs of adjacent trees, in such positions as seemed to insure their safety.
"Of course," said Steve, the last thing before crawling into the tent, "if there should happen to be a lion hanging around he'd gobble poor old Ebenezer the first thing. So if you hear a trampling and a neighing in the night, look out; also wake me up so I c'n have a finger in the pie. That's all from me."
He settled himself comfortably in his blanket, and seemed bent on going to sleep immediately, so that the others copied his excellent example. These boys had been through the mill so often that long ago they learned the folly of playing pranks, or "cutting up" after it was finally decided to seek their beds.
Several times did Max open his eyes and lift his head as some slight sound came to his sensitive ears.
Once it was a mysterious tapping on the canvas which made him smile, for he guessed readily enough that it must be some curious 'coon trying to find out what this bulky object might be that had invaded his preserves without so much as asking permission.
The second time was more puzzling, for he could not just say what had aroused him. On listening intently, however, he discovered that Ebenezer must have gotten to his feet again after a little rest, and started to cropping the grassonce more; and that it was his rope catching in some little shoot on the ground and being suddenly released that made the rustling sounds.
There came a third time for Max to awaken.
It was not any outside sound that aroused him now, but a movementinsidethe tent.
The moon must be shining brightly, for it was far from dark or gloomy under the canvas, and he could plainly see what was transpiring.
Something ailed Steve, for he was beginning to get to his feet, without making a sound. Max lay there, and watched him curiously. Was Steve uneasy, and did he mean to step out so as to take a look around, impelled by thoughts of that lion being at large?
This was the first idea that flashed through the mind of the watcher; but he speedily found reason to change it. Steve did not pick up his little Marlin shotgun, as it might be expected he would do if he meant to take a turn around, and see whether anything was stirring.
Then perhaps he had found himself thirsty, and was going for a drink to the nearby spring. Still, if this were so Max wondered at him for not thinking to take some weapon along, for there was no telling but what he might need it.
Now Steve was crawling silently out of the tent; and curious to know what it could mean, Max hastened to copy his example. When he wished, he could do some excellent stalking, and although Steve might have a good pair of ears hecertainly showed no evidence of hearing any one come after him.
When Max found himself outside he saw the other moving softly away. He was in his bare feet, not having taken the time to slip on his shoes, as Max had done. This in itself looked queer. Steve ought to know that walking was not the most pleasant thing imaginable when going barefooted, even for such a short distance as lay between the spring and the tent.
The night air was also pretty chilly for a fellow clad only in pajamas, and coming fresh from a warm blanket. Yet Steve did not seem to mind that little thing, for he was moving steadily along, like an Indian brave going to the grand powwow.
Max had been thoughtful enough to take his blanket along with him; not only that but he had also picked up his rifle which was lying conveniently near; for Max had a streak of caution in his composition, and did not like to be taken unawares.
Well, there was Steve moving in the direction where they went to get their water. The tent had not been pitched exactly on the border of the little brooklet that ran from the bubbling spring, because there was really no necessity of this; and besides, the ground just there was not so well adapted to such a purpose.
"If he's after a drink well and good," Max was saying to himself as he started after the other boy; "and since the thing had been mentioned Ibelieve I'm some thirsty myself, so that I could stand a gulp or two. That's mighty nice water, and we don't get anything as good in Carson. But Steve does act queer, for a fact. I wonder now if he can be up to his old tricks again."
Now, in times past Steve had been addicted to the bad habit of doing considerable walking in his sleep. He was himself fully convinced that he had outgrown the trouble; but Max believed it was liable to crop up again under certain conditions favorable to its growth, especially if his mind should happen to be worried.
In this case it could hardly be that, because he had not taken his gun along, as he might have done, if possessed by the idea that lions were prowling near, and that it was his duty, as the guardian self-appointed of the camp, to go out and scare them away.
Max noticed that the moon did not stay out all the time. It was pretty well up in the heavens by this time, and he figured from that it must be somewhere in the neighborhood of one o'clock; for long ago Max had learned the useful woodsman way of telling time very closely by observing the passage of the stars, and the moon, across the blue canopy overhead.
There were batches of clouds that from time to time drifted across the bright silvery face of the moon; and when this occurred a period of half darkness was apt to ensue.
But Max had no difficulty in keeping Steve infull view. This was rendered easy by the fact that the chum's pajamas were of a light color, and could be readily seen against the darker background of the forest.
Just as Max had suspected, he was making a bee-line for the spring. Awake or asleep, Steve was undoubtedly thirsty, and meant to indulge in a drink. Max had never heard of any one doing this when walking in their sleep; but he could remember Steve carrying out some very odd stunts while in this dormant condition, and he guessed it was possible.
He drew a little closer, though not meaning to do anything to arouse the other, who after getting his drink would possibly meekly return to the tent. In the morning Max would accuse him of sleepwalking, and if Steve indignantly denied it, Max could ask him to look at his feet, and demand if he was in the habit of going to bed with the soil of the woods on his soles.
All this flashed through the mind of the boy who followed close on the heels of the leader. He even decided to stand where Steve must surely notice him on his return, and in this way it would be easily settled whether the other were awake or walking in his sleep.
It is so easy to make plans, and yet the best of these may be smashed by some little unexpected happening.
So it was in this case.
Steve had almost reached the spring when allat once a shrill scolding screech rang out, cutting the stillness as with a sharp knife.
Max heard a heavy sound as of something striking the ground. He also caught the flutter of some hairy form that seemed to vanish amidst the branches of the big tree under which Steve chanced to be at the time.
It all happened so quickly, and without the least warning, that although Max was considered a very speedy boy, acting like a flash in a warmly contested game of baseball, he did not think to raise the gun he was gripping in one hand, holding his blanket about him with the other, until thething, whatever it might be, was gone from his sight.
Steve had come to a rigid standstill the very second that screech made the echoes ring through the aisles of the forest; he seemed startled, amazed and apparently frozen stiff in his tracks.
CHAPTER VIIITHE MYSTERIOUS HAM THROWER
"Where am I? Oh! what was that fell alongside me? Who's throwing stones? Hello! Max, Toby, Bandy-legs, where are you all at?"
Steve had found his tongue apparently, and was shouting all this at the top of his voice. Max thought it high time he showed himself, so as to quiet the excitable chum.
"All right, Steve; I'm here at your elbow, you see," he remarked, stepping out into plainer view. "You've only been up to your old tricks again, and walking in your sleep. I think you must have had a bad case of thirst, for you started straight for the spring, and you see you nearly got there."
"You don't say?" ejaculated Steve, looking down in some dismay at his bare feet, and his now shivering figure, clad only in thin pajamas. "But what happened, Max? Sure that was a terrible screech that woke me up; and I tell you I heard some heavy thing bump on the ground close by me!"
"So did I, Steve," added the other; "let's look and see."
Five seconds later and Max gave utterance to a bubbling cry.
"Great Caesar!" exclaimed Steve, staring at the object the other bent over and picked up; "this is the funniest thing that ever happened to me, Max. Why, if it ain't raininghamsup here in the woods! Some farmer's smoke-house must have blown up, and we get the benefit."
"Wait a little, Steve," said Max, solemnly; "take another look, will you? Perhaps you'll notice that this is only half a ham."
"Why, so it is, Max."
"Look closer, and tell me if you've ever seen it before," Max continued, holding the smoked meat up so that Steve could see better.
"Ginger!"
"Oh! then you recognize it, do you, Steve?"
"Why, yes, I seem to, Max," admitted the other, staring first at the section of ham and then upwards toward the tree from which it had apparently descended, aimed so as to strike him; "but what'sourham doing away off here, tell me that, will you? We didn't fasten it to this tree, but the one close to our tent; so we'd know if anything came nosing, around."
"All right, Steve; it looks as if something did come nosing around, without any one of us being the wiser. And that creature, whatever it may have been, was carrying the ham away when it thought you must be following below; so what does it do but let out a screech of fury, and whang, the ham straight down at you."
"Gee! ain't I glad though he didn't happen tobe the pitcher of his nine, because he might have made a better shot; and if that seven pound piece of smoked pork had taken me on the coco I'd have seen more stars than there are up above us now."
"Yes, Steve, it's sometimes better to be born lucky than rich," Max told him; "but there the other boys are calling to us, and wanting to know what it's all about. As you're beginning to shiver you'd better turn around and trot back to where you left your blanket, don't you think?"
Steve had a terribly stubborn streak in his composition. He proved it right then and there.
"I'm shivering, all right," he remarked, with chattering teeth, "but I reckon it's more because of the excitement than that I'm cold. Anyway, if I had the good sense to make my way out here in my sleep just because I was thirsty, why, seems like it'd be too bad to get disappointed; so I'm going to have a drink, no matter what happens."
With which he deliberately passed on a dozen paces, reached the spring, and taking the tin cup they kept there proceeded to slake his thirst. Max could not help admiring his grit, even though believing that Steve would be wiser if he forgot his thirst and hurried to the shelter of his blanket.
"Course you mean to carry the ham back with you, Max?" he inquired, as he once more joined the other.
"I should say so," Max told him; "and after this we'll have to be more careful about our smoked meat, unless we want to feed every animalup here. They're smart enough to get on to that racket of hanging it from a limb. We'll keep it inside the tent, and they can only get it by creeping over us as we sleep, which would be a risky thing to do, I'm thinking."
"Any idea what sort of a thing that animal in the tree was?" asked Steve, as he cast an uneasy look aloft, doubtless wondering whether the fierce beast held a grudge against him for having caused it to relinquish its dinner; so that after that he would be a marked boy.
"I couldn't say," Max replied, slowly. "I only had a glimpse of something moving up there, and then it was gone. The moon happened to be behind a cloud at the time, and that helped to fool me. All I can say is that it was a big animal, and not a 'coon or 'possum."
"Whew! some people keep on saying they never did get that tiger back after the storm set the animals free from the cages," Steve said, uneasily.
"Hello! there, what's all this row about?" Bandy-legs called out just then, for the returning pair had drawn near the khaki colored tent, where they discovered their chums standing with guns in their hands, and blankets swathed around their lightly clad figures, looking for all the world like a couple of mummies, or as Max afterwards told them, like Mexican peons with their ponchos.
"Yes, that's what we want to k-k-know!" added Toby.
"Oh! Steve here got thirsty while he was sleeping, and stepped out to go to the spring for a drink," Max informed them. "I happened to see him, and took a notion I'd follow and see that he didn't come to any harm. Then some animal up in a tree, thinking Steve was going to get after him, threw this down to him, and let out a screech that beat anything I've heard this long while."
"Why, that's a half a ham!" ejaculated the astonished Bandy-legs.
"Ourh-h-ham, in the b-b-bargain!" shrilled Toby.
"Just what it is," Max continued; "you see, the rascal had actually stolen it, and was making off when he saw Steve below, and got angry. It came mighty near hitting our chum on the head, which would have floored him good and hard. So he was lucky to escape as he did."
"And we're lucky to get our ham back!" Bandy-legs argued, as though after all that were the main point—which from a boy's standpoint it certainly was.
Meanwhile Steve had dodged under the canvas, and presently reappeared, also swathed in his blanket. He was still too much excited to think of sleeping, and consequently meant to stand it out with the rest. Perhaps curiosity had also something to do with the matter, for he would wish to know what Bandy-legs and Toby thought about the species of animal that had carried their smoked meat off.
Their tongues did certainly wag at a great rate for a spell. All sorts of suggestions were made, some of them fairly good, and others bordering on the ridiculous. Toby was for believing that it must have been a tiger, or at the very least one of those terrible spotted leopards they remembered seeing walking up and down in its cage, as though always hoping to get out to its missing mate.
"And they s-s-say leopards have got the w-w-worst k-k-kind of tempers," he insisted, when some of the others threw doubt on this idea.
"Well, whatever it is," Max concluded, "it acted like it was mad at Steve here for walking in his sleep."
"Don't blame the critter much, either," muttered Bandy-legs; "because any feller that would be guilty of doing such monkey-shines ought to have a whole ham flung at his head every time."
"Hold on there," said Steve, sharply; "that's always the way with you fellows. Why, you ought to be voting me a bunch of thanks right now, instead of hauling me over the coals like you're doing."
"Oh! is that so, Steve?" cried Bandy-legs, with considerable of satire in his voice.
"Sure it is," the other went on to say, unblushingly. "Supposin' now I'd just continued to hit the hay, and snored on like you two seemed to have done, what's the answer?"
Bandy-legs and Toby exchanged puzzled looks.
"W-w-whatever do you m-m-mean, Steve?" asked the latter.
"How about that fine ham? When, you looked around everywhere for it to-morrow morning and couldn't find the same high or low, you'd wish Steve Dowdy might have had a little walking fit on, and saved your bacon for you, eh?"
Max laughed at hearing that.
"I guess Steve's got it on you, boys, this time," he remarked. "It seems that in some cases walking in your sleep may turn out to be the right thing. We do owe him something, because it saved our ham this time. But all the same he's got to stop the habit before it gets him into a peck of trouble."
"I s-s-say we p-p-put a rope on him nights," Toby ventured, with emphasis. "Then if he tries to s-s-slope he'll find himself p-p-pulled up with a round turn."
"Hey, you just try it, that's all!" Steve told him. "What d'ye take me for, a horse, to be staked out nights, or hobbled and all that? I give you fair warning right now that whenever we're in danger of losing some of our belongings, if I take a notion to step out and walk in my sleep in order to save the same, I'm going to do it. Get that, don't you, Bandy-legs?"
In spite of all their exchange of views it seemed that after all they were no nearer a reasonable solution of the puzzle than in the start.
"We'll look around in the morning and see ifit left any tracks," Max suggested, after it seemed as though they had reached the finish of the matter so far as deciding on the species of animal went.
"That's the best thing said yet," ventured Steve; "and as usual it was left for Max to hit in with it. So, let's see if we can go to sleep again."
They crawled inside the tent and adjusted their blankets again. Max noticed that Bandy-legs changed his position somewhat. As he now lay no one could crawl out of the tent by way of the regular exit without brushing across his recumbent figure more or less. The other did not say anything as to why he did this, but Max could give a pretty good guess.
Steve was too sleepy to pay any attention to what was going on, or he might have taken Bandy-legs to task for trying to play sentry over him, knowing that he must be in the other's mind when he laid this trap.
"We want you to notice, Steve," Bandy-legs told him the last thing, "that Max fetched a bucket of fresh water in from the spring just now; and so if you happen to get thirsty again before morning, just help yourself. It'll save you a lot of trouble."
"Well, seeing that we've got all our grub inside here now, and there's nothing more to be hooked, I guess I'll keep quiet. But you want to be carefulhow you steal my thunder when the credit's passing around."
Saying which, Steve hid his head under the folds of his blanket, and they knew he had spoken his last word.
The others relapsed into silence, and before long all of them had gone soundly asleep. Nor was there any further alarm during the balance of that first night in camp.
When Mas crawled out again dawn had come, and in fact the sun was peeping up in the east. First Max looked to see that Ebenezer was all right; for he had felt a little uneasy concerning the horse. He found that the animal was already beginning to gather in what grass lay around him, and apparently had not a care in the wide world.
Then the next thing he did was to pass over to the tree in which they had secured the ham and bacon, although later on removing everything to a more secure place of storage inside the tent.
Max carefully examined the ground underneath this tree. He was a pretty fair woodsman, and believed he could easily discover any imprint of padded feet such as would indicate the presence of a tiger. But in spite of going over every yard of the soil as much as three times, Max was finally obliged to admit that there did not seem to be any clue. He could not find any track such as would tell of an animal having been there on the previous night.
This set him to thinking along another line. Apparently then the beast must have entered the tree from another one close by. It was reasonable, and he saw it could have been easily done by even a gray squirrel, for the branches interlocked in several places.
This seemed the more convincing when Max remembered that the ham had been flung bodily out of another tree, showing that the thief was making off without touching the ground at the time.
"Well, seems like it's going to keep right on being a mystery," Max told himself as he gave the quest up; "just as that roaring sound last night may never be solved. Perhaps there are a number of strange wild beasts at large up here; and that our little outing is going to be an exciting one after all."
"Yes," added Steve, who had come out of the tent in time to hear Max say the last of this, "and don't it beat all how things do come around our way, to give us a grand time? When you look back for the time we've been chumming together you can see heaps of happenings that other fellows would give most anything to have cross their trail. But we've got nearly a whole week up here to ourselves, Max; and I say it will be mighty funny if we can't guess the answer to a silly little question like this: Who killed Cock Robin? Or take it the other way, Who tried to knock my brains out with half a ham! And listen here, anothernight I'm meaning to sit up and see if I can't get a crack at the miserable old thief with my Marlin gun. He'll be sorry the rest of his natural life if he comes nosing around here again."
Steve meant every word he spoke, and Max could see that he had been considerably worked up by what had happened.
Of course they would have numerous other things to engage their attention during this, their first day in camp; but nevertheless from time to time their thoughts must go out toward the little mystery by which they were confronted; and this was apt to start fresh talk about solving the same.
CHAPTER IX"MILLIONS FOR DEFENSE!"
That was indeed a busy day for all of the boys in camp.
They had numerous things that they wished to do, and turned from one to another in rotation. It might have been noticed too, that they were a little nervous for all they made light of the possibility of meeting some strange beast whenever they went away from the camp ground.
This was shown particularly when Steve and Toby took a notion during the middle of the morning that they would try the fishing over at the pond. If the pickerel declined to bite they might at least pick up some good-sized frogs; so they went prepared for both things; but they also took their guns along, which was a little strange, because they would hardly need them in trying to land either fish or frogs.
Steve had his minnow seine, with which they could doubtless secure plenty of live bait. Then from selected positions along the bank they meant to cast their lines out, hoping to land a few finny prizes that would vary the bill of fare for supper.
All of this was carried out to the letter; the minnows were easily secured, and kept alive in alittle shallow pond made by banking up mud on the border of the larger sheet of water. Then they baited their hooks, and cast out, with the fisherman's habitual hope actuating their actions.
The pickerel proved to be both hungry and accommodating, for they soon began to take hold savagely. Several fine fish were landed after a fierce struggle that afforded the anglers more or less pleasure; and they felt encouraged to keep up the sport, assured of plenty for a meal.
When the fish were taken from the hooks they were strung on a stout cord, and kept in the water, so that they would remain fresh longer. Toby would not keep far away from this place long at a time.
"What ails you anyway?" Steve several times called out; "why don't you try a new place like I do?"
Finally the stuttering boy condescended to inform him.
"S-s-seems like this place is as g-g-good as any," he said; "and then p'raps you think I've g-g-gone and forgot all about how that b-b-bear got away with our fish the time we were up at Trapper Jim's p-p-place?"
"Oh! then you're half expecting to have a big bear step out of that brush yonder, and start to carrying away our catch, eh?" Steve demanded. "Well, perhaps it might happen, who knows? After a fellow's gone and had half a ham thrown at his head by some animal up in a tree he's readyto believe near anything. If one does come, Toby, be sure you give a yelp so I could get started on the run. Bear steak wouldn't go halfway bad; and it'd be all the same if he was tame or wild, I'm thinking."
Although after that both boys continued to keep one suspicious eye on the neighboring woods, and made sure that their guns were always ready, nothing happened. It might be they were somewhat disappointed, because both had a streak of love for adventure in their composition, and would possibly have welcomed the excitement that must follow the appearance of a real live bear.
The string of pickerel and perch they carried back to camp aroused the others to enthusiastically admit that Steve and Toby certainly took the premium for catching the wary denizens of the pond. They found themselves delegated to repeat the performance on succeeding days, as long as their appetite for fresh fish remained good.
That afternoon Toby set to work making what he confidentially told Steve was to be a trap. If the unknown animal came prowling around again on the ensuing night, perhaps it would be sorry for trespassing without an invitation.
Just what sort of an arrangement this was going to be he would not declare, but promised to explain it all to them later on.
"Who'll go with me over to the farmer's, toget some fresh eggs and milk?" asked Max, a short time after they had eaten lunch.
"Now don't all look at me that way," Bandy-legs remarked, "because I'm ready to be the victim as soon as I get my second wind, which'll be in about half an hour longer."
"That's always the way with him," Steve complained; "he eats so much that for a whole hour or so he's just logy, and not fit for anything. Now Toby and me think we did our share when we caught that nice lot of fish this morning."
"Didn't you hear me say I was meaning to go with Max!" demanded the other, bridling up. "Well, there's no need for hurrying so. It's a long walk there and back. I'm just wondering whether we ought to take a gun along."
"What for, to shoot the bull if you meet him?" asked scornful Steve.
"Oh! you never can tell," replied the other; "and I noticed that you was mighty careful to lug yours along when you went after fish. Thought a big pickerel'd jump out of the water and chase you, p'raps. Careful how you let fish take a bite out of your leg, ain't you? Well, we might run across some savage animal that'd be a heap worse than a pickerel's sharp teeth."
"I'll carry a gun if you think best," Max remarked; "but as we'll have eggs and milk to tote back with us it might be in the way."
"Just as you say, Max," Bandy-legs continued,nodding to himself in a wise way, as though he had determined on a certain course for himself, which he did not consider it necessary to explain to all the rest.
When the two left camp Steve was climbing a tree with the avowed intention of closely examining the limb from which the smoked meat had been hung.
"A cat, big or little, has gotclaws," he remarked, as if to explain his actions; "and I guess it might leave some scratches on the bark that would help explain things. Anyhow no harm done trying to see how far my theory will go. Good luck, fellows, and don't you get lost now."
"No danger of that when Max is along," replied Bandy-legs, confidently, as he and his chum strode away.
They knew the location of the farm, because several times that morning there had been borne to their ears the distant barking of a watchdog; and Max had taken special pains to locate the direction from which the sound came. All they would have to do was to keep heading straight into the west until they struck the cleared ground, when the rest would be easy enough.
"The boys have promised to keep the fire going while we're gone," Max told his comrade, as they walked along in company, following what seemed to be a fair trail that led in the right direction, "and to feed it with green wood pretty much all the time."
"Green wood!" echoed Bandy-legs, looking puzzled.
"So as to make more of a black smoke, which will be of considerable help to us in finding our way back to camp," Max informed him.
"Ok, yes, I see," Bandy-legs went on, shooting a look full of admiration toward his companion; "it certainly does take you to think up the best things ever. Now, that wouldn't have occurred to me in a thousand years."
"This walking isn't so bad after all, is it?" asked Max, quick to change the subject when he saw signs of the other breaking out in praise of his woodcraft.
"That's right," his chum admitted; "only I hope we don't meet up with anything that's going to make us sorry we didn't fetch a gun along."
"Not much chance of that," Max argued.
"But then you know thereissomething loose in this neck of the woods that's got us guessing. What it can be beats my time. A tiger'd most likely pounced on poor old Ebenezer, and paid mighty little attention to our smoked meat; he'd want the fresh stuff right off the reel."
Bandy-legs making a misstep just about then, and almost rolling down a little declivity, found that he had better pay more attention to his gait and talk less; so for some time they walked along in silence.
"There, did you hear that?" Max asked him, presently.
"It certainly was a rooster crowing," the other admitted.
"And right ahead of us, too," Max continued; "which goes to show that we've been hitting the right trail."
"No thanks to me though, Max, because if I'd followed my bent we'd have changed our course more than six times. I thought I knew something about keeping a straight track, but I'm away off."
Some boys seem to take to these things just as naturally as a duck does to water. There are others who do not appear to have the elements in them for making woodsmen, no matter how much they try. Bandy-legs was apparently of this latter class. Now and then he might flash up, and do something creditable, but it was only to fall back into his old careless ways again, and depend on others to do the hard thinking for him.
Five minutes later, and he gave a little shout.
"There's the farmhouse ahead of us, Max, with all the outbuildings in the bargain. Hope we can get the eggs and milk all right, because we've come a long way for the same. And there isn't anything I like better when camping out than plenty of hen fruit, together with the lacteal fluid from the cows. Whew! here's trouble with a big T all right! Look at the size of that Towser makin' for us, would you? Let him take a bite, and there wouldn't be much calf left."
"Ok! I don't know, you're pretty good-sized, Bandy-legs," said Max with a chuckle; but all thesame he looked about him, and hastened to pick up a stout stick that chanced to be lying near by.
"Where's the mate to that, Max; see anything for me around? We've got to teach him we believe in the old motto, 'Millions for defense; not one cent for tribute.' What about those guns of ours; wouldn't they come in handy right now to keep him off! Get out, you scamp; what are you making straight for me about? I haven't lost any dog that I know of. Why don't you sick Max there; he's got something for you. Hi! keep away, I tell you!"
The large and savage dog seemed bent on taking a firm grip of Bandy-legs. Perhaps he may have rather fancied his build, and believed it would be easier to pounce on a boy with bow-legs than another who stood five foot-ten in height. Then again the fact that Max was swinging that stout stick vigorously may have had more or less to do with the beast selecting the shorter chum as his intended victim.
Bandy-legs skipped about in a lively fashion, trying to keep himself away from "entangling alliances" with those shiny white teeth. He also succeeded in giving the animal several hard kicks; but instead of discouraging the beast this rough reception seemed to make him the more determined to accomplish his purpose.
Max could hardly follow their movements, they swung around so rapidly. He meant to rush in at the very first opening, so as to rescue his chum,for he saw that Bandy-legs was in a pretty bad way, with that savage brute leaping again and again at him.
He might get his legs twisted as he sometimes did, and take a fall, when the dog would pounce on him like a shot, and perhaps mangle him badly. For this reason Max was bent on joining issue with the dog, and letting him feel the hardness of the club he had picked up.
There was no chance for him to do this, good though his intentions may have been.
Suddenly in the midst of the savage growling and chasing about he heard Bandy-legs cry out exultantly:
"You will have it, then? Now, there's five more left if you're greedy!"
Hardly had he spoken than the big dog began to howl most mournfully. Max could hardly believe his eyes when he saw him writhing and twisting as if in agony, at the same time trying to rub his head with his forepaws.
"What did you do to him?" Max cried; but he might just as well have saved his breath, for he saw what Bandy-legs was holding up, and he knew that the other had been wise enough to fetch along with him a little squirtgun called an "ammonia pistol," which those on bicycles who are troubled by dogs chasing them, often carry in order to teach the brutes a much needed lesson.
It may seem cruel to send a charge of pungent ammonia or hartshorn into the eyes of a dog, butused with discretion such punishment is far better than that the rider suffer a fall and possibly a broken neck, or be mauled by a savage brute which he has not harmed in the least.
"Good-bye, Towser, old fellow!" cried Bandy-legs, mockingly, as the dog started full-tilt for the farmhouse, yelping dolefully as he ran. "Next time get wise to the fact that things ain't always as green as they look. Took me for an easy mark, didn't you, but if I am a little crooked about the pins, that doesn't mean I'm not on to a few games. Come again when you can't stay so long. Tra-la-la!"
Bandy-legs was evidently in a good humor, and felt like shaking hands with himself. To get out of a bad scrape, and without the least bit of assistance from anybody was a feather in his cap; and he believed that he had good reason to feel tickled over it.
"You got rid of the dog all right, old fellow," Max told him; "but look what's bearing down on us now, full sail!"
"My stars! it's the dog's mistress, all right; and say, don't she look like she means business from the word go, though? Hadn't we better run for it, Max? Sure I have enough stuff left for five more shots; but gee! whiz! you wouldn't want me to treat a lady to that sort of thing, would you? She's getting closer all the while, Max."
"Yes, I can see she is," returned the other, calmly.
"Say, you may be all right, because you didn't have anything to do with the shooting up of her pet; but what about me? I'm going to clear out, Max."
"No, don't do it, Bandy-legs," urged the other; "stay where you are, and leave it to me. I think I can fix it up, all right."
And really, such confidence did Bandy-legs seem to have in the powers of his companion that, although he shivered as he saw the approach of the farmer's wife, still he manfully stood his ground.