220CHAPTER XXIIIAT THE CAMP
At last the train came that was to take our hero to the railroad station of Camptown Falls. It was merely a flag station, but the conductor said he would stop there for any passenger who might wish to get off. The railroad was a single-track affair, running through the woods and across the country stretches, and the train consisted of one passenger car and several freights.
Dave looked at the passengers and counted them. There were just an even dozen, and of these, ten were men, farmers and those in the lumber business. One, a bright young fellow, sat near our hero, and Dave resolved to ask him if he knew anything about Camptown Falls and the summer camps in that vicinity.
“Yes, I know all about the Falls,” said the young lumberman. “I work not over three miles from there—at Cropley’s—the station this side of Camptown. There ain’t any town, not since the Jewell Lumber Company busted up. Some folks camp out there, down along the river and221on Moosetail Island, but there aren’t near as many as there used to be.”
“Somebody said the dam above Camptown Falls was dangerous?” said Dave.
“I think it is myself, and I can’t understand how they allow folks to camp along the river and on that island. If that dam ever broke it would be good-by to anybody on the island, I’m thinking.”
“Have you been up to the island lately?”
“I was there about a week ago.”
“Who were there then, do you know?”
“A couple of men from Portland and half a dozen young fellers from Springfield. There was another camp, with some women in it, but I didn’t get around to that, I only heard of it. There are half a dozen camps along the right bank of the river, but they are on high ground, and if the dam broke it isn’t likely the water would reach ’em,” continued the young lumberman.
The train rolled along at a rate of twenty miles an hour, making stops at stations and crossroads. Here and there a person got on or off, and by the time Camptown Falls was reached Dave had the passenger car almost to himself.
The train halted for but a minute and our hero alighted, suit-case in hand. Much to his surprise, not a soul was about the little depot, which looked old and dilapidated. There was a stretch of222fields beyond the track, and farther on he made out the glistening waters of the river, and in the center the woodland stretch known as Moosetail Island.
“Well, this surely is Lonesome Land!” Dave murmured to himself, as the train rumbled out of sight and he was left utterly alone. “And not another train until eight o’clock to-morrow morning! I’ll have a fine time of it to-night if I don’t meet those fellows, or run across some camp where they will take me in.”
Dave looked at the sky and this did not tend to increase his good spirits. When he had left Oakdale it had been warm and clear; now dark clouds were forming overhead and it looked as if it might rain before long.
“Well, I’ve got my raincoat and a waterproof cap, and that is one comfort,” he told himself. “But I had better hurry up and see if I can’t find Phil and the others before it gets too dark. I wish there was somebody here who could tell me where to go.”
He looked around for a sign of some habitation. Far across the river he saw a column of smoke, coming up from among the trees, but that was all. The only building in sight was the deserted depot.
There was something of a path leading from the depot to the river, and Dave followed this.223But soon the path seemed to divide, and the various branches became more indistinct at every step, especially as it was rapidly growing darker and darker.
“I’ll strike a straight course for Moosetail Island,” Dave said to himself. “I’ll surely find some people camping out there, and they may be able to tell me about the boys, if they are here.”
As he approached the river, going down a small hill, the way became stony, and he had to walk with care, for fear of going into some hole, or twisting an ankle. It was hard work, especially with the suit-case, and he half wished he had hidden the baggage somewhere near the depot.
“I was a big chump that I didn’t bring some lunch along,” he reasoned. And then he had to smile at himself, as he remembered how he had imagined that he might put up at some hotel in Camptown Falls! He had not dreamed that the place would prove such a lonely one. It was certainly an ideal spot for runaways who wished to remain undiscovered.
Presently Dave found himself at the bank of the river, a wide but shallow stream, filled with sandbars, rocks, and piles of driftwood. Not a great distance off was the end of Moosetail Island.
It was now so dark that our hero could see but224little. As he stood at the edge of the river, he heard a patter on the leaves of the trees and knew it had begun to rain.
“Wonder how they get to the island?” he mused. “They must either use canoes, or else wade across, or ford along the stones.”
He moved along the river-bank, and soon came to a point where the stones in the river seemed to stretch in a line from the bank to the island.
“I guess I’ll try it here,” he told himself. “But I think I had better leave the suit-case behind.”
He placed the case in a tree, sheltering it as much as possible from the rain, which was now coming down at a lively rate. Then, donning his raincoat and waterproof cap, he set out over the rocks in the river, leaping from one to the next and heading for the island.
It was no easy journey, and when but half-way to Moosetail Island Dave slipped and went into the stream up to his knees. He floundered around for a moment, splashing the water into his face and over his coat and cap.
“Phew! this is lots of fun!” was his grim comment, as he at length found himself on a flat rock, catching his breath. “Well, I am half-way over, anyway.”
The remainder of the distance proved easier traveling, and ten minutes later our hero stood225on the island. It was now raining steadily, and the darkness of the storm had settled everywhere.
“I guess the best thing I can do is to move right around the shore of this island,” he reasoned. “By doing that I am bound to strike one of the camps, sooner or later.”
He moved along as rapidly as the rocky shore of Moosetail Island permitted. He had to proceed with care, for there were many dangerous pitfalls.
At length his heart was gladdened by the sight of a rude log cabin, set in the trees a little back from the water. He hurried to it and found the door and window closed. Evidently the spot was deserted.
“Nobody here,” he murmured, and his heart sank for the moment, for he could see that the camp had not been used for a long time. Then he went on, the rain in the meanwhile coming down harder than ever. The downfall made him think of the dam that was said to be weak. What if the present storm should make that structure give way?
“I wish we were all out of this,” he murmured. “I wonder if it would do any good to call?”
He set up a yell and listened, and then he yelled again. From a long distance came an answering cry.226
“Hurrah, that’s somebody, anyway!” he exclaimed. “I hope it was one of the boys!”
He stumbled in the direction of the cry. Then he yelled once more, and again came the answering call. But now Dave was sure it was a man’s voice, and he was somewhat disappointed.
“Where are you?” he called out, a moment later. “Where are you?”
“This way! Come this way!” was the reply, and soon Dave passed through a patch of timber and around some rocks and reached a spot where there was a tiny cove, with a stretch of fine sand. Facing the cove was a neat log cabin with a small lean-to, the latter containing a tiny stove.
A tall, good-natured man stood in the lean-to, peering out into the rain. He watched Dave’s approach with interest. He looked to be what he was, a camp-cook and general worker.
“Hello!” he exclaimed, as Dave hurried in out of the rain and shook the water from his cap. “I thought you were one of our crowd.”
“What camp is this?” questioned our hero, eagerly.
“Well, it ain’t no camp in particular,” answered the man, with a grin. “It’s jest a camp.”
“But who is stopping here?”
“Three young fellers and myself.”
“Are their names Beggs, Lawrence, and Basswood?”227
“You’ve struck it. Maybe you are a friend to ’em?” went on the man, inquiringly.
“I am, and I have come a long distance to find them,” returned Dave, and his tone of voice showed his relief. “Where are they?”
“They left the camp right after dinner an’ they ain’t back yet. When you called I thought it was one of ’em, although they didn’t expect to be back much before supper-time. But now it’s rainin’ I guess they’ll come back sooner.”
“How long have they been here?”
“Most a week now, I guess. I didn’t come till day before yesterday. I didn’t have nothin’ to do an’ they give me a job, cookin’ an’ like that,” returned the man.
He invited Dave to make himself at home, and our hero was glad enough to go inside and take off the wet raincoat and also his shoes and socks. The baggage belonging to Phil and the others was in the cabin, and he helped himself to dry garments and a dry pair of slippers.
“We are all school chums,” he told the man. “My name is Dave Porter.”
“Oh, I heard ’em talkin’ about you!” cried the camp-worker, and then said his own name was Jerry Blutt, and that he was from Tegley, just across the Canadian border.
“We are not far from the border here, are we?” asked our hero.228
“About six miles, thet’s all,” answered Jerry Blutt, and this reply gave Dave another idea. More than likely Buster and the others had chosen this spot so that, if pursued by the officers of the law, they could flee into Canada.
Jerry Blutt said the three lads had spent their time in various ways, occasionally going fishing and swimming. They had also written some letters and gone to the railroad station to mail them in the box placed there for that purpose.
“Have they been having a good time?” asked Dave, curiously.
“I can’t say as to that, Mr. Porter. They did seem mighty worried over something,” answered the camp worker, and from this our hero felt certain that the man had not been let into the secret of why the runaways were there at all.
Half an hour went by and it continued to rain as hard as ever, while the sky remained dark and the wind blew with more or less violence. Time and again Dave went to the cabin door, to peer out into the storm, but each time he turned back disappointed. His chums were not yet in sight.
“They’ll be surprised to see me,” he thought. “I wonder if they will listen to reason and go back with me? Supposing they refuse to return? I’d hate to go back alone.”
Then he questioned Jerry Blutt about the dam above the Falls. The man shrugged his shoulders.229
“It ain’t safe, so they tell me,” he said. “But it’s been that way a long time, so maybe it won’t break away yet awhile. But I’d hate to be on the river when she does go.”
“Are there any other camps on this island?” went on our hero.
“Not now. There was some other folks, two or three parties, I was told, but they all moved out yesterday an’ the day before. Maybe they got afraid o’ the dam,” concluded the camp-worker.
230CHAPTER XXIVOUT IN THE STORM
“This is getting to be something fierce!”
It was Dave who uttered the words, about five o’clock in the afternoon. He was looking out of the door of the cabin, and beside him stood Jerry Blutt.
The storm had kept up without intermission, the rain coming down in a perfect torrent, and the wind blowing in fitful gusts from the east. It was raw and depressing, and our hero could not help but shiver as he looked out on the turbulent waters of the river.
“It’s a pity them fellers ain’t got back,” said the camp-worker, with a slow shake of his head. “It ain’t nice to be out in sech a downpour as this, an’ with sech a wind! Might a tree blow down on ’em!” And he shook his head again.
Dave was even more distressed than the man. He could not get that dam out of his mind. Such a heavy fall of rain would certainly cause a great flow of water, and if the structure was weak, most anything bad was liable to happen.231
“As soon as the boys get back I’ll urge them to leave here,” he told himself. “If that dam breaks we want to be on high ground, where the flood can’t reach us.”
“’Pears to me like the river was gittin’ putty high,” remarked Jerry Blutt, a little later, as he watched the water in the cove closely.
“Well, it would rise some with all this rain coming down,” returned Dave.
“So it might,—but I don’t know. I wish this camp was on the shore, instid o’ this island.”
“So do I,” answered Dave, bluntly.
A fire had been started in the stove and a lantern lit, and Jerry Blutt rather reluctantly began preparations for the evening meal. But he kept peering out of the doorway of the cabin, and from the lean-to, and his eyes always rested on the river, with its rain-swept, swollen surface.
“I don’t like it at all!” he said, finally. “I wish we had moved over to the shore.”
“Don’t you think it is safe to stay here?”
“It ain’t as safe as it might be. If I was alone––” The man stopped short.
“What would you do?”
“I hate to say it, but I think I’d go over to the shore, till the storm was over and I knew jest how thet dam was a-goin’ to act.”
“Well, I don’t blame you,” answered Dave. “And if you want to go, go ahead.”232
“Want me to go alone?”
“If you wish to go, yes.”
“But it ain’t no safer fer you than it is fer me.”
“That’s so, too. But I want to see those other fellows—in fact, I must see them. If I went to the shore I might miss them.”
“You could come back later on.”
“But I want to warn them of the danger from the dam.”
“You could write a letter and stick it up where they couldn’t help but see it. Then–– What’s that?”
The camp-worker stopped short, as a distant cry reached their ears, sounding out above the wind. An instant later the cry was repeated.
“That is Ben Basswood’s voice!” cried Dave. “They must be coming back!”
Soon another voice sounded out, and our hero recognized Buster Beggs’s tones. He ran to the cabin door. All was dark outside, and the rain was being driven in sheets by the wind.
“Hello! hello!” he yelled, and catching up the lantern, he swung it out in one direction and another. Then he saw two forms approaching on the run, each dripping with water.
“Ben! And Buster!”
“Why, if it isn’t Dave!”
“Where in the world did you come from?”
“Where is Phil?” demanded our hero.233
“He is somewhere behind us,” answered Buster. “Oh, what a time we’ve had!” and entering the cabin, the fat youth sank down on a bench all but exhausted.
“We’ve had to tramp for over two miles in this rain,” explained Ben. “And of course we had to ford to the island. Say, the current is something fierce now! And the water is getting higher every minute!” he added.
“Did you say Phil was behind you?” demanded Dave. He still held the lantern on high.
“I thought he was—sure, he must be,” answered Ben. “Give him a hail, will you? I’m too tired,” and he sank on the bench beside Buster.
“Phil! Phil!” yelled our hero, at the top of his lungs. “This way! This way!” and he swung the lantern to the right and left.
“Did you say the river is rising?” demanded Jerry Blutt. “How high is it? Over the White Bar yet?”
“Yes, the Bar is a foot under water,” answered Ben. “Oh, this is a great storm!”
“A foot under water!” murmured the camp-worker. “Say, we better git out! First thing you know this hull island will be under! An’ if thet dam breaks––”
“Oh, the dam!” gasped Buster. “I forgot about that! They say it isn’t safe at all! That is why all the other campers got out! Yes, we234must leave the island and go to the shore.” He turned to Dave. “Did you come alone?”
“Yes, Buster. I’ll tell you all about it later. But now we must find Phil.”
“I thought he was right behind me,” came from Ben. He looked greatly distressed. “I wonder if anything happened to him? Maybe he slipped off the rocks into the river!”
“We must look for him!” cried Dave, and reached for his coat and cap. “Show me the way you came, Ben.”
Ben was nothing loath, and side by side the two chums ran outside into the storm, and in the direction of the upper end of the island. They had gone but a short distance when they reached a low spot and here suddenly found themselves in water several inches deep.
“Hello, you are taking me into the river!” cried Dave.
“This isn’t the river!” answered Ben, with a gasp. “Gosh! how the water is rising! This was dry when I came over it before!”
“Dry!” ejaculated our hero. “Ben, are you sure?”
“Positive! Say, the water is rising to beat the band! I guess we had better get out! If we don’t we’ll have to swim for it!”
“Phil! Phil! Where are you?”
Standing in water up to his ankles, our hero235called again and again, and Ben joined in the cry. The lantern was flashed in all directions. But nothing was seen or heard of the missing student.
“I am sure he started to follow us across the river,” said Ben. “Buster was in front, I came next, and Phil was in the rear. I asked him twice if he was all right and he said he was. Then it blew so hard, and the rain got so heavy, none of us said any more. Oh, Dave, what shall we do?”
“I don’t know Ben—wish I did.”
“Do you think he slipped off the rocks and was—was—drowned?”
“I hope not.”
“If he was, wouldn’t it be terrible?”
“Yes.”
A cry came from behind them, and Buster appeared, followed by Jerry Blutt.
“Where is Phil?” demanded the stout youth.
“We don’t know.”
“The water is terribly high, and Jerry thinks we had better move to the shore. He says we might be drowned if that dam should break.”
“Don’t you think we ought to find Phil first?”
“Sure—if we can. Maybe he went back, when he found out how the water was rising,” went on the stout youth, hopefully.
“I don’t think he’d desert us,” answered Ben. “That isn’t Phil’s style.”236
“You’re right, Ben,” said Dave.
All splashed around in the water for several minutes, but without making any discovery of importance. The river was now rising more rapidly than ever, and the camp-worker showed increased nervousness.
“Ain’t no two ways about it—the dam’s bust!” he cried, at last. “I’m goin’ to git out, an’ I advise all o’ you to do the same. If you want me to carry anything to shore I’ll do it.”
“We can’t carry any trunks in such a hurry,” said Buster.
“Let us carry our suit-cases and bundles,” said Ben.
With heavy hearts, Dave and the others returned to the cabin. The water in the cove had now risen so high that it swept the edge of the lean-to.
“Can we get to shore?” asked Buster. “We haven’t any boat,” he added, turning to Dave.
“We can if you’ll hurry,” replied Jerry Blutt. “Every minit lost makes it jest so much more dangerous.”
In great haste Ben and Buster and the camp-worker gathered together such belongings as they could conveniently carry. The other things were placed in a trunk and hoisted by ropes into a big tree. Then a lantern was tied on a post in front of the cabin and to it was fastened a brief note,237for Phil’s benefit, stating they had gone to the shore.
“Oh, I hope he is safe!” murmured Dave, anxiously.
“So do I,” added his chums.
Jerry Blutt led the way along the shore of the island and then out into the stream. They had the second camp lantern with them, one belonging to Jerry. He led the way from rock to rock, and they followed in single file, Dave bringing up the rear. Ever and anon our hero looked back for some sign of Phil, but without avail.
Once out in the river, all were certain that the dam above Camptown Falls had burst. The water ran with great rapidity and was filled with dirt and débris of various kinds. On the rocks that were low they had all they could do to keep their footing.
The most dangerous part of the river had yet to be passed—a section close to the shore, where the water was deep and the rocks for fording few.
“Mind your footin’ here!” sang out the camp-worker. “An’ if you slip, look out thet you don’t hurt yourselves!”
He was splashing along in water up to his knees, sometimes on the rocks and then again on a sandbar running in that direction. Then he had to make a turn, to avoid a deep portion of the stream, where the current was rapid.238
Ben was behind the man and Buster was just ahead of Dave. As all struggled along, there came an extra heavy blast of wind, followed by a perfect deluge of rain.
“Oh!” screamed Buster, an instant later, and peering through the rain, Dave saw him suddenly throw up his arms and slip from a rock. There was a splash, and poor Buster disappeared from view.
“Buster is in the river!” yelled our hero, and then he leaped for the rock from which the stout youth had fallen. He looked down and saw an arm and a head come up.
“Help! hel––” came from the unfortunate one, and then the swift current caught him and turned him over, out of sight.
“Help!” yelled Dave, to attract the attention of those ahead. And then, as he saw Ben turn back, he slipped down on the rock and into the swirling river and struck out after Buster.
239CHAPTER XXVPERILS OF THE FLOOD
“Dave! Dave!” yelled Ben, as he saw our hero disappear into the swiftly-flowing river. “Look out, or you’ll both be drowned!”
“What’s the trouble?” yelled Jerry Blutt, as he turned back for the first time since leaving the island.
“Buster slipped in, and Dave went after him,” answered Ben. “Oh, what shall we do?” he went on, despairingly.
“Here—we’ll throw out the rope!” answered the camp-worker, and took from his shoulder a rope he carried.
In the meantime Dave had come up and was striking out with might and main for his chum. Our hero realized that Buster must be hurt, otherwise he would swim to save himself.
“Must have struck on his head, when he went over,” he thought, and he was right, poor Buster had done just that and now lay half-unconscious as the current swept him further and further from his friends.240
It was too dark to see much, and Dave had all he could do to keep in sight of the unfortunate one. But presently the stout youth’s body struck against a rock and was held there, and our hero came up and seized the lad by the arm.
“Buster! Buster!” he called out. “What’s wrong? Can’t you swim?”
“Hel—help me!” gasped the fat youth. “I—I got a knock on the head. I’m so—so dizzy I do—don’t know what I—I’m do—doing!”
The current now tore Buster away from the rock, and he and Dave floated along on the bosom of the river for a distance of fifty yards. It was impossible to do much swimming in that madly-rushing element and Dave wisely steered for shore. He continued to support his friend, who seemed unable to do anything for himself.
At length, when our hero was all but exhausted, his feet struck a sandbar. At once he stood up, finding himself in water that reached to his waist. He caught up Buster and placed the weakened lad over his shoulder. In a dim, uncertain way he saw the shore loom up in front of him, and struck out in that direction.
It was a short but hard struggle. Twice Dave went down, once losing his hold on his chum. But he got up each time and went after Buster in a hurry. Then he made a final dash, came in241contact with some bushes, and hauled himself and his burden to temporary safety.
All was dark around the two boys, and the rain came down as pitilessly as ever. But for this they did not, just then, care. They had been close to death, and now they were safe, and that counted for everything.
Poor Buster had received a severe bump on the forehead and had a swelling there of considerable size. But the stunning effect was passing, and he was able to sit up and peer around him.
“Oh, what a crack I got, when I fell over!” he murmured, and then he added, gratefully: “It was a fine thing for you to jump in after me, Dave!”
“Well, I couldn’t stand there and see you drown, Buster,” answered our hero. “I had to do something.”
“Where are the others?”
“Up the stream—unless they went overboard, too.”
“Then I suppose we ought to walk that way.”
“We will—after we get our breath and you feel strong enough.”
“Maybe you can call to them?”
“I’ll try.”
Dave yelled at the top of his voice, not once but several times. Presently an answering hail arose242from a distance, and then Ben came running up, followed by Jerry.
“Dave! Buster! Are you safe?”
“Yes,” answered both.
“Oh, I am so glad! We were afraid you were both drowned! How did it happen?”
The two told their story, and then the others told how they had thrown out the rope and had seen Dave disappear in the darkness after Buster.
“I would have jumped in, too, but I didn’t see how I could do any good,” went on Ben. “Jerry said we had better come ashore and look for you down here. So we did that. My! but it’s a fearful flood, isn’t it!”
“Yes. I wish we knew where Phil was,” and Dave heaved a deep sigh. Had their chum lost his life in that rapidly-rising river?
“Ain’t no ust to stay here—gitting wetter an’ wetter,” said the camp-worker, after a pause. “Besides, if that flood gits wuss it is bound to come up here. We better git further back—up the hill.”
“Is there any shelter around here? I mean on high ground?” asked Dave.
“Yes, I know of a cabin up on the hill,” answered Buster. “I don’t know if I can find it in the rain and darkness, but I can try.”
He walked along, through the trees, until he reached a footpath running up from the shore.243They followed the path for about a hundred yards, and then came in sight of a long, low, rambling cabin, the home in years gone by of some lumbermen. It was in a dilapidated state, with doors and windows gone, but it would provide a roof over their heads, and that was something.
Entering, the lantern was hung on a nail, and they looked around them. There was a fireplace, with some dry sticks handy, and soon they had a fire started, which added much to the comfort of the surroundings. They hung up the majority of their wet garments and sat close to the blaze, drying themselves.
“If I only knew where to look for Phil, I’d go after him,” said Dave. “But to look for him in the darkness is like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack.”
“We’ll have to go out first thing in the morning,” returned Ben.
“Yes, as soon as we can see,” added Buster.
The boys who had run away were anxious to learn what Dave had to say about affairs at Oakdale, and in a low voice, while the camp-worker was preparing hot coffee and something to eat, he related what had happened since their departure.
“You made a big mistake to run away,” he said, earnestly. “Just because you did that, many folks feel sure you must be guilty. You ought to go right back and face the music.”244
“I guess you are right, Dave,” answered Ben, shamefacedly. “But when Phil said ‘run,’ I didn’t stop to think, but just got out.”
“And that is what I did, too,” added the stout youth. “But I don’t blame Phil any more than I blame myself,” he added, hastily.
“Nor do I,” said Ben. “We made a big mistake. We should have stood our ground, like you and Roger did.”
“Well, you come back with me, and we’ll face this to a finish,” went on our hero. “But, of course, we’ve got to find Phil first.”
Only the camp-worker slept well that night. The boys were restless, and several times one or another got up, to go to the doorway and listen, thinking he had heard a call from Phil. But the calls were only imaginary, and morning dawned without a sign of the missing one.
It was still raining, but not so hard as before, and by eight o’clock the clouds broke away and the sun commenced to shine. All had an early breakfast, from the stores brought along, and then the party hurried down to the river.
That the dam above Camptown Falls had broken was plainly evident on all sides. During the night the river had risen seven or eight feet, bearing on its bosom many trees and bushes, with here and there the remains of camps that had been located on low ground. Moosetail Island had245been swept from end to end, only the higher spots escaping the flood. The waters were now going down, the rush from the broken dam having spent itself.
The boys gave scant heed to the destruction effected by the rain and the broken dam. All their thoughts were centered on Phil. What had become of their chum? Was he dead or alive?
“I wonder if it wouldn’t be best to get over to the island and look around?” suggested Dave. “Most likely he went there—thinking you would be at the cabin.”
“But how are we to get to the island?” asked Buster. He had no desire to fall into the turbulent stream again.
“Oh, the water is going down rapidly, Buster. I think we can make it by noon.”
All walked up and down the river bank, looking in vain for some trace of the shipowner’s son. Once they met some people from another camp and asked about Phil. But these folks shook their heads.
“Didn’t see a soul,” said one of the men.
Jerry Blutt had been looking the situation over carefully, and he said he thought they could get to the island by going up the river a distance.
“Then the current will help us along, and we won’t have to fight so hard,” said the camp-worker.246He did not like the idea of crossing the water, but did not wish to desert the boys.
On the trip they carried the rope, with Jerry at the head and Dave at the rear. All took tight hold, so that if one slipped the others might pull him up.
“Now, take it easy,” cautioned the camp man. “This water is runnin’ putty swift, even yet.”
He had mapped out a course with his eye, and proceeded slowly and cautiously. Once away from the shore, they felt the full force of the onrushing waters and were all but swept from their feet. It was well that they were a good distance above Moosetail Island, for to reach this spot by going straight out in the stream would have been impossible.
It was a long, hard, and dangerous trip, and all drew a deep breath of relief when they finally set foot on the island. At times they had been in water up to their waists and it had looked as if they must surely be swept away. Once a tree branch, coming swiftly along, had caught Dave and literally carried him off his feet for several yards.
They landed at one end of the island, at a point where the bushes were still two feet under water. The evidences of the flood were on every hand, and the water was muddy and filled with broken-away brushwood and trees.247
“I guess we had better strike out for the camp,” said Dave. “Phil would go there if he went anywhere.”
As they advanced one or another gave a loud call. But no answer came back, and this made them look gravely at each other. Was the perilous trip to the island to prove a vain one?
In a quarter of an hour they came in sight of the camp. The cove had been blotted out, and the water was eddying around the cabin to a depth of several inches. Mud was everywhere, inside the place and out, and this showed that the flood had swept the spot at a height of several feet.
“We might have stayed here,” was Buster’s comment. “It didn’t hurt the big tree.”
“But we didn’t know how bad it was going to be,” answered Ben. “It might have washed away the whole island.”
“Let us go up to the high ground and look for Phil,” suggested Dave. “Maybe he went to the highest spot he could find.”
The others agreed, and leaving the camp-worker at the cabin, the boys, led by Buster, tramped through the wet and mud to a little hill. Again they set up their calls, but, as before, no answer came back.
“I don’t believe he came here,” said Ben, at last. “If he was here he would surely hear us.”248
“Unless he was hurt and couldn’t answer,” returned Dave.
From the top of the little hill they could see both ends of Moosetail Island and also both shores of the river. As they gazed about them, Dave suddenly gave a shout.
“Look! look!” he cried, pointing to the shore which they had left but a short while before. “There is somebody waving a handkerchief at us!”
“It’s Phil!” returned Ben.
“Are you sure?” questioned Buster. “I can see it is a man or a boy, but that is all.”
“It looks like Phil,” said Dave. “Oh, I hope it is!”
249CHAPTER XXVIBACK TO THE SCHOOL
They waved frantically to the person on the shore, and he waved frantically in return, and at last all were convinced that it must really be their missing chum.
“He must think I am Jerry,” said Dave. “Won’t he be surprised to see me!”
“He will be, unless he was at the cabin last night and read the note,” returned Buster.
“The note wasn’t touched,” said Ben. “I noticed that it was exactly as we left it.”
All gave a parting wave and pointed to the shore, and then left the hill. They made their way down to the cabin, and told the camp-worker what they had seen.
“It must be Lawrence,” said Jerry Blutt. “Maybe he’ll come over here, instead of waiting for us to go to him.”
“Gracious, I never thought of that!” cried Buster.
“We’ll be like the men in one of Shadow’s stories,” said Ben. “One was upstairs in a big250office building and one downstairs. The man upstairs went down, and the downstairs man went up, and they kept that up until both stopped, tired out, one upstairs and one down.” And the others had to smile at the brief yarn.
All journeyed to the lower shore of the island, where they could get a better view of the spot where the person they thought was Phil had been. They saw the party walking up the river bank, looking for a good place to ford. All shouted loudly and waved their hands to keep him where he was, and he nodded his head deeply, to show that he understand.
“It must be Phil,” said Dave. “Oh, how thankful I am that he wasn’t carried away by the flood!”
The boys were impatient to get back to the shore, and Jerry Blutt did not blame them. To carry any of the stuff over was still out of the question, and they did not attempt it.
“You can come and get it some day, Jerry,” said Buster. “You can ship it to us by express, and we’ll pay you for your trouble;” and so it was arranged.
It was as hard to gain the shore as it had been to reach the island, and all were well-nigh exhausted when they finally left the water, not to return again. Phil saw them coming, and when he made out Dave he was almost dumfounded.251
“Where in the world did you come from?” he demanded, as he caught our hero by the hand.
“From Oakdale, Phil.”
“Did you run away, too?” demanded the shipowner’s son.
“Hardly,” answered Dave, with a grin. “I came to bring you fellows back. But first tell us, how did you get out of the flood last night?”
“Oh, I had a fierce time of it. I tried to get back to the camp, but stumbled over some tree-roots and went down in a hole and hurt my ankle. When I got up I couldn’t see the others, and I must have lost my way. Then it began to rain and get dark, and I didn’t know which way to turn. I yelled dozens of times, but I didn’t hear any answer. I tried to locate the cabin, but I must have been completely turned around, for I came out on the shore. Then the flood came along, and before I knew it I was floating down the river. I hit a tree and clung to that, and we drifted a mile or more before the tree got stuck on a sandbar. I stayed there, in the rain and darkness, until morning and then waded and swam ashore. I was so tired out I had to rest for awhile, and then I came up here, to try to find out something about our crowd. I was thinking of getting over to the island again when I saw you on the top of the hill. Of course, I thought Dave was Jerry.”252
“We were scared to death, thinking you had been drowned,” said Ben.
“Well, I came pretty close to it,” was the serious reply. “No more such flood for me!”
All turned towards the cabin where four of the party had spent the night, and there Jerry was called on to prepare the best meal their limited stores afforded. On the river-bank they had picked up some fish cast up by the flood, and these were broiled, making a welcome addition to the meal.
While the meal was being prepared, and after it had been eaten, Dave had a serious talk with Phil and the others, and all realized the folly they had committed in running away from Oak Hall. Phil in particular, was much disturbed and said he had been thinking of coming back.
“But we saw that article in the newspaper, and it scared us,” went on the shipowner’s son. “Of course, it didn’t mention any names, but we knew it was meant for us. I know now, just as well as the others, that it was a mistake to run away.”
“Then, you’ll go back with me?” questioned Dave, eagerly.
“Yes.”
“And you’ll go back, too, Ben and Buster?”
“Yes.”
“I am mighty glad to hear it—and I feel that253this thing will come out all right in the end,” returned Dave.
“By the way, there is one thing I haven’t told you, Dave,” said Buster, a minute later. “The general excitement drove it clean out of my head. We know who it was that spoiled the feast Phil got up for the crowd.”
“You do?” asked our hero, with interest.
“Yes. It was Nat Poole. He went to Rockville and sent those telephone messages to Jason Sparr and that musical professor, calling the whole affair off. He did it because he wasn’t invited to take part.”
“How did you learn this?”
“I heard it the night I went to the Hall to get our baggage. When I was in hiding, waiting for a chance to go to the dormitory, I saw Nat Poole come in, along with that new student, Will Fasey. They had been out somewhere having a good time, and Nat was telling Fasey how he had sent the telephone messages and queered the feast. I would have pitched into him then and there only I didn’t dare expose myself,” went on the stout youth.
“But he’ll get what is coming to him from me, when I get back to the school,” put in Phil. “It was a contemptible piece of business, and I want everybody to know it. Besides, he has got to pay for what I lost by the transaction.”254
“If it wasn’t for that, maybe we wouldn’t have been suspected of blowing up the hotel,” said Ben. “Then you really think the wild man did it, Dave?”
“Yes.”
“But what of that letter Jason Sparr got, saying our crowd was guilty?”
“I don’t know what to make of that, Ben. I don’t think the wild man could write that.”
“Would Nat Poole be bad enough to do it?”
“Maybe. But it was an awful thing to do. I didn’t think Nat would be as mean as that.”
The boys had dried and pressed their clothing as best they could, and put on clean collars, cuffs, and neckties, and therefore looked quite presentable once more.
“As soon as we get to town we can get cleaned up a little better,” said Dave. “So we won’t look quite like tramps when we return to the Hall.”
“I hate to face Doctor Clay,” remarked Phil, dubiously.
“So do I,” added Ben and Buster.
“Well, it has got to be done,” answered Dave. “So make the best of it. The doctor understands the situation, so I don’t think he’ll be hard on you.”
“I hope they have got the wild man, and that they prove he blew up the hotel,” said Phil, wistfully.255“That is the only thing that will really clear us.”
“Oh, they are bound to get the wild man sooner or later,” answered Dave, hopefully.
It was decided to take the one afternoon train from Camptown Falls, and at the proper time the boys walked to the little depot, Dave with his suit-case, and the others with some hand baggage. Instructions were left with Jerry Blutt regarding the other baggage, and the man was paid for his services. He said he was glad that nobody had been drowned in the flood, and added that he was going up to the broken-away dam later on to see how matters looked.
It was a rather quiet crowd that got aboard the train when it came along. The conductor wanted to know how they had fared in the flood, and they told him. At Lumberport the boys had to wait an hour for the next train to Oakdale Junction, and they spent the time in getting a good supper, and in having their shoes shined, and in brushing up generally.
“I’ll be glad to get back late at night,” said Phil to Dave. “I’d hate to have the whole crowd staring at us when we came in.”
At the Junction they waited but a few minutes, and the run to Oakdale did not take long. They were the only ones to get off at the depot, and the spot was all but deserted. But they had telegraphed256ahead, and Horsehair was on hand, with a carriage, to meet them.
“Glad to see you young gents back, indeed I am,” said the school driver.
“Any news, Horsehair?” asked Dave, as they piled into the carriage.
“Not as I know of.”
“Have they got that wild man yet?” questioned Phil.
“No, sir. But they seen him—along the river—day before yesterday. He was sleepin’ in a barn. But he got away before the farmer and his man could git him.”
“Where was that?” questioned Ben.
“Up to the Morrison place.”
“The Morrison place,” mused Buster. “I know that family. When I get a chance I am going to ask them about this,” he added.
When the boys arrived at Oak Hall they found Doctor Clay sitting up to receive them. He smiled at Dave, but was somewhat cold towards the others.
“It is too late to listen to what you have to say to-night,” said he. “All of you may report in my office directly after our opening exercises in the morning.”
When the boys went upstairs there were a good many exclamations of surprise, and Roger and the others wanted to ask innumerable questions. But257a monitor cut all talk short, and Dave and the runaways got to bed as quickly as possible.
All were up early, and Dave, Phil, and the others had to tell their story before going down to breakfast. Roger and those who had been left behind with him listened eagerly to the tale of the flood and the other happenings.
“I guess Dave got there just in time,” said the senator’s son. “How about it, Buster?”
“He sure did,” said the stout lad, and shuddered to think how close he had been to drowning.
It can well be imagined that Phil, Ben, and Buster did not have much appetite for breakfast. Phil looked around for Nat Poole, but the money-lender’s son had not yet returned to the school.
“Now, tell me everything,” said Doctor Clay, when the boys at length filed into his office. “As they say in court, we want the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”
“And that is what I’m going to give you, Doctor Clay,” answered Phil. “I made a big mistake in running away, and I am glad Dave came to bring us back. I haven’t done anything wrong, and I am here to face the music, as the saying goes.”
“And so am I,” came from Ben and Buster.
Then the boys told their story in detail, omitting nothing, and Dave related how he had gone to Camptown Falls, and how the flood had caught258him. In the midst of the narrative came a sharp knock on the door.
“Come in,” said the doctor, and one of the servants entered.
“A man to see you, sir,” said the servant. “He says it is very important—something about that wild man, sir! He’s terribly excited, sir!”
“The wild man again!” murmured the master of the school, while the boys looked at him and the servant with interest. “Show the visitor in and I will hear what he has to say.”