"What is it?" asked Bart.
"Let's get away from here, to some place where we can talk it over quietly," suggested Fenn. "We don't want them to know we're onto their plans."
The four chums moved off down the street. Frank seemed to have recovered his good spirits, and joined in the talk readily enough. They listened to Ned's suggestion, and the more they talked of it the more enthusiastic they grew over it.
"This'll beat their breaking-up of our dinner all to pieces," said Fenn. "It's all to the merry. They'll wish they'd let us alone."
"There's one point we almost overlooked," said Frank, just as the chums were about to disperse.
"What is it?" asked Fenn.
"To make the plan work right we've got to get on the floor where the dance is going on, and I don't believe we can. Those fellows will have every entrance guarded."
"Leave that to me," spoke Ned. "I know that old dance hall like a book. There's an entrance they'll never guard and we can use that."
For the next few days the four chums were busy at home every spare moment. Their folks wondered what was in the wind, but the boys kept their own counsel.
"Have you got any cheese?" asked Bart of his mother one evening.
"What for? Are you hungry?" asked Alice, looking up from the first-aid-to-the-injured book that she was studying.
"No, but I'm going to feed it to those who are hungry," her brother replied.
"Do you want it for some poor persons?" asked Mrs. Keene. "I think, Bart, I can give them something better than cheese."
"No; cheese is just what's wanted," Bart answered. "You see it's a secret."
"Oh, I guess he's going to have some sort of an initiation in a secret society!" exclaimed Alice. "Tell me about it, Bart, I'll never breathe a word of it, really I won't."
"I'd like to, Sis, but I can't," Bart replied. "It's very secret."
Bart got the cheese and took it to his room. Alice tried to tease him into telling her what he wanted of it, but Bart maintained a provoking silence.
"All right!" declared Alice. "I'll never tie your hand up again, if you hurt it with your shotgun," referring to an incident when Bart had slightly injured several of his fingers by the premature discharge of his gun.
"I don't intend to get shot again," Bart made answer. "Really, Alice, I'd like to tell you about this, but you'll hear about it soon enough."
"When?"
"Saturday night, maybe."
"But I'm going away Saturday night."
"Where?"
"To a dance."
"A dance, eh?" and Bart looked interested. "What dance?"
"Why one the first-year boys are getting up. I've got an invitation."
"You don't mean to say you're going to the racket the Upside Down Club is going to give?"
"Yes; why not?"
"Oh, nothing."
"Yes, there is something. I can tell by the way you act."
"Well, I didn't think a sister of mine would go to an affair given by the enemies of the Darewell baseball team."
"Oh, you're mad just because they played a trick on you about your dinner. That's nothing. I'm going to the dance just the same. So you'd better tell me now what you want the cheese for."
"Oh, if you go to the dance you may hear of it there."
"Now, Bart, I think you're real mean! Please tell me! How can I hear of it at the dance?"
"Run along now, Sis, I'm busy," and Bart, with a provoking smile, shut the door of his room. Alice waited a minute, and then, hearing her brother moving about among his possessions, and realizing that it was useless to tease him further, went downstairs.
"I don't care," she said to herself. "I'll have a good time at the dance, anyhow."
Preparations went on for the little informal affair the boys of the Upside Down Club were to give. They tried to keep it a secret, but it was impossible. However, they took precautions to prevent any unbidden ones gaining access to the hall. The place was kept locked all day, and in the evenings, while the work of decorating it was under way, there were enough of the first-year boys on hand to prevent any untoward acts on the part of their enemies.
The four chums had taken a few of their closest friends of the nine into their confidence, but they kept matters so quiet that none of the Upside Downs suspected that a plot of vengeance was afoot. While the first-year boys did not ask any of the other male pupils of the school to the dance, they were not so strict with the girls, and a number from all the classes of the institution were bidden to the affair.
"The more the merrier," said Ned, when he heard of this. "It will be the talk of the town Monday morning."
"If it works out right," put in Fenn.
"Oh, it will work out right," Ned said confidently.
The night of the dance came at last. Alice put on her prettiest dress, and, as she was leaving she saw her brother, attired in an old suit of clothes, lounging in his room.
"I thought you were going to tell me about that secret to-night," she said.
"The night isn't over yet," Bart replied. "There's time enough."
So Alice went to the dance. She found many other girl acquaintances there, and scores of boy friends among the members of the Upside Down Club.
Bart, who had remained in his room all the evening, was started from a revery about nine o'clock by a whistle out in the street.
"There are the fellows!" he exclaimed, and, catching up his cap, and taking a package, from which sounded a mysterious scurrying and squealing, he went out.
In front of his house he met Ned, Fenn and Frank. Each one had a bundle similar to the one Bart carried.
"Got plenty of 'em?" asked Ned.
"About two dozen," was the answer.
"You had better luck than I. I got fifteen."
"I have twenty and Fenn has ten," put in Frank.
"That's enough to break up a dozen dances," spoke Ned. "Come on now, we've got to do a bit of climbing."
The hall, where the dance was being held, was over the drug store. This was in the center of a business block, the drug structure being higher than any of the buildings amid which it stood. The ballroom was on the top floor.
"Have you arranged about getting in?" asked Fenn.
"We can't get in," Ned replied. "They've got every door doubly guarded, for they suspect we're up to something. In fact we don't want to get in. I have a better way. Come along."
Ned led the way, through back streets until he came to a certain high fence.
"One of us has got to climb over and open the gate," he said. "After that the rest is easy."
Bart, being a good climber, was soon over the obstruction, and admitted his companions to a yard in the rear of a group of buildings.
"Where are we?" asked Fenn.
"We're in back of Williamson's hardware place," replied Ned. "That's right next to the drug store. We're going to the roof of that, and when we get there we can go up a short ladder until we get to the roof of the drug store."
"How did the ladder get there?" asked Frank.
"I bribed a telephone lineman, who was stringing some wires on the buildings yesterday, to leave it there."
"But what are we going to do when we get on the roof of the drug store?" asked Fenn.
"You watch and you'll see," Ned answered.
By means of an outside stairway, and by climbing up on a rear porch, the boys reached the roof of the hardware building. Thence it was an easy task to get on top of the structure in which the dance was being held. They could hear the music below them, and the sound of merry feet tripping to the melody of a two-step.
"There's a scuttle near the center," Ned spoke. "Walk quietly now. It's a tin roof, and they may hear us, in spite of the music. Go easy!"
They found the scuttle, and it was unlocked. Ned had seen to that, by giving a judicious hint to the janitor of the place the day before. The boys cautiously removed the covering to a hole that led into a sort of attic or ventilating space. A few minutes later the four chums were in a dark loft, looking through the grating of a ventilator in the wall right down on the dancing floor.
"My, but they're having a good time!" exclaimed Ned in a whisper. "It seems a pity to spoil it."
"Pity nothing!" exclaimed Bart. "What did they do to us? Besides, there's no harm in this. There'll be a little screaming from the girls, but that's all."
"Have you got 'em in paper bags?" asked Ned, as he began to open the box he carried.
"Sure," replied Bart, and the others answered in the affirmative.
"When I open the grating just toss the bags out, right in the middle of the floor," Ned went on. "Do it quick, as I want to close the ventilator before they see where the things come from."
An instant later Ned had opened the ventilator grating, which he had previously loosened. Then, through the air, went sailing four paper bags. They struck almost in the middle of the ballroom floor and burst.
Then from the bags there scampered over three score mice, rushing, running, leaping and darting amid the dancers, with frightened squeaks and squeals.
For a moment there was silence, broken only by the noise of the rodents. Then every girl in the room, and there were forty of them, uttered a frightened scream and rushed for a place of safety.
"A mouse! A mouse! Oh, save me!" was the universal cry, and the music came to a stop in a crash of discord as the dance was most effectually broken up.
All over the room ran the mice, and all about darted the frightened girls. The boys were, at first, too surprised to know what to do, but, at a rallying cry from someone, they started after the mice. However, they had no weapons to kill the rodents with, and had to be content with taking kicks at them as they darted past, seeking means of escape.
"Couldn't have worked better!" exclaimed Bart, as he and his chums watched the scene from where they were hidden.
"I hope none of the girls faint," said Fenn.
"Oh, Stumpy's getting worried about Jennie, I s'pose," remarked Ned.
"No danger of any of 'em fainting," said Bart. "They're too much afraid a mouse would bite 'em."
So it seemed, for the girls contented themselves with screaming and getting up on whatever offered in the way of chairs or benches.
Meanwhile the mice, bewildered by the lights, the noise and the strange place, were running about, squealing as loudly as they could. Every time one of the frightened creatures came near a girl, or a group of them, the cries of the damsels drowned the squeaks of the rodents.
The boys of the Upside Down Club were at their wits' ends, for they could wage no effectual warfare against the mice. One or two of the committee of arrangements scurried around until they secured brooms, but by this time the mice had hidden in corners, whence they scurried out occasionally, to the great fright of the girls.
The dance had come to a sudden end, for the girls, even after comparative quiet was restored, refused to venture on the floor. Even Alice, who was braver than most girls, stayed in a corner.
"Who did it?"
"Where did they come from?"
"How did it happen?"
These and many more questions were heard on every side. The paper bags from which the mice had burst were still in the center of the floor. Some of the first-year boys picked them up. From them dropped slips of paper on which were printed:
COMPLIMENTS OF THE DAREWELL BASEBALL NINE.
"I thought so!" exclaimed Walter Powell, the chairman of the arrangement committee of the dance. "The Darewell Chums had a hand in this. We must find 'em, fellows!"
"Come on!" exclaimed Ned to his companions in the ventilator space. "We'd better skip. They may find us."
They went out as they had come in, and soon were on their way home.
"Talk about getting even," remarked Fenn. "I guess we did it all right!"
"I caught all the mice in our house," said Ned. "Dad says he wishes I'd take the job steady, though he didn't know why I was doing it."
"Alice tried to find out one night what I was going to do with the cheese I got to bait the trap with," Bart remarked. "I guess she knows now."
Meanwhile the boys of the Upside Down Club, much chagrined at the unexpected ending of their entertainment, were trying to induce the girls to go on dancing. They said all the mice had gone, which was probably true, but they couldn't get the young ladies to believe it.
"I'm going home!" declared Jennie Smith, and several other girls decided to go with her.
The boys made an ineffectual search for those who had played the trick. They soon discovered that the bags had been thrown through the ventilator, but, by the time a committee of investigation had gone to the loft, the four chums were far away.
"We'll not say anything about this at school, Monday," Ned remarked as the chums prepared to separate that night. "Let it come from the other fellows."
"Oh, it will be town talk by to-morrow," declared Frank, as he started off down the road toward his uncle's house.
Mr. Dent's residence was about a mile outside of Darewell. The road leading to it was well lighted up to within half a mile of the Dent place, and then the lamps were few and far apart. Frank hurried on, thinking of many things besides the trick of the mice, for he had a real trouble, and one he had not yet shared with his chums. It was bothering him, and had been for some time. He wished he had someone he could take into his confidence.
As he neared his uncle's house he noticed there was a light in the sitting room. This was unusual, as his uncle and aunt were in the habit of going to bed early. They left no light for Frank, who had a key to the front door, and who carried matches to light the lamp always left on a table for him.
"I wonder if any one is sick?" the boy thought, as he approached the house.
He turned up a side path, as he wanted to get a drink at the well before going to bed, and the water in the house was not likely to be fresh. As he advanced cautiously through the darkness he heard voices, coming, evidently, from the direction of the front porch. Frank halted, and, as he did so, he heard his uncle's tones. Mr. Dent was saying:
"Of course it's too bad, but if he's violent, there's only one thing to do."
"That's all," the voice of a man replied. "We will have to keep him in the sanitarium for a while yet. I am just as sorry about it as you are. But we must not let the boy know. It might have a bad effect on him."
Frank started. All his troubles seemed to come freshly to his mind. He knew the man talking to his uncle had something to do with them, and he resolved to find out more about the matter. He remained silent, hoping to hear additional talk, but the two had concluded their conversation, and the stranger could be heard walking down the gravel path toward the front gate. That was what the light had meant. Mr. Dent had received a visitor, and Frank determined to find out who it was.
"Well, I'll see you again when necessary," the stranger called to Mr. Dent. "Good-night."
"Good-night," replied Frank's uncle, as he went into the house and shut the door.
Frank waited until the stranger was out on the path in front of the house. Then, keeping as much as possible in the shadows, the boy followed. He stole along, walking on the sod to deaden his footsteps, and soon found himself on the main highway. Just ahead of him he could see the figure of the man. He tried to see if he knew the stranger, but it was too dark.
"But I'll find out where you go," Frank declared to himself, "I'll get on the track of this mystery sooner or later, and I guess I've got a good start now."
All unconscious of being followed, the man hurried on. He seemed to know his way, for, though it was dark, and the path was uneven, he kept on at a good pace.
Frank was drawing closer, in the eagerness of his pursuit. He was not as careful as he had been to walk on the sod, and, after he had gone about half a mile, the boy suddenly stepped on a loose stone which made him slip. The sound was heard by the stranger, who was about one hundred feet in advance, and he turned quickly.
"Who's there?" he asked sharply.
Frank did not answer.
"Who's there?" the man inquired again, and there was menace in his tones.
Frank crouched down to get in the shadow of a big tree.
"I know someone is following me," the man went on, in a sharp voice. "Whoever it is I warn him he had better come no further. If it's money you're after I'll tell you I am armed, and I'll not hesitate to shoot. If it's a beggar I have nothing for you. If it is anyone else I warn him I will stand no trifling. I will say nothing to you, and if you follow me you do so at your peril. Be warned in time and go back. You must not meddle in this affair, whoever you are. I shall protect myself if I am attacked!"
The voice ceased, and there sounded a click in the darkness, that might indicate the man had cocked his revolver. Frank did not move. He hardly breathed. He did not know what to do, for he had not counted on being discovered.
"Remember! Follow me at your peril!" the man exclaimed again. Then, turning quickly he ran ahead in the darkness, and was soon lost to sight.
Dazed by the sudden ending to his chase, Frank remained a while standing by the tree. He had half a mind to ignore the warning and keep on after the man, but on second thought felt it would be an unwise thing to do.
"I must try another plan," the youth said to himself. "I will get at the bottom of this mystery concerning me. I did not know Uncle Abner was mixed up in it. I wonder if I had better ask him about it?"
Frank debated this question in his mind as he went back home. Then he decided he would say nothing about what he had overheard until there was a chance of learning more about it.
"Is that you, Frank?" his uncle asked him, as the boy went into the house a few minutes later.
"Yes, uncle."
"Well, be sure you lock up well. There have been thieves about, I hear, and we don't want 'em to get in here."
Frank wondered at his uncle's caution, for Mr. Dent was not usually nervous. It was also news to Frank to learn that there were thieves about.
"Have you seen any?" he asked his uncle.
"No, but Jim Peterson's hired man was over a while ago, and told me his dogs had barked at some tramps passing in the road. There are strangers in the vicinity, I guess."
Frank wondered if the dogs had barked at the stranger who had been at the Dent house a little while before, but he said nothing about it, and, soon went to bed.
As the chums had anticipated, the breaking-up of the Upside Down Club dance created more talk among the High School pupils than had anything else in the line of sports and fun since the institution was built. The members of the ball team, and their friends, who had been let into the secret, preserved a discreet silence about the affair, and would answer no questions.
Although it was generally believed that the four chums had been the prime instigators of the affair, they would admit nothing, and many were the conjectures about the mice.
As for the girls, after their first fright, they laughed as heartily as did the boys over the sudden ending of the dance. The only pupils who seemed angry over the matter were the boys on the dance committee, who were incensed at the breaking up of the affair.
"I know those Darewell Chums had the most to do with it," said Denny Thorp, who was the leader of the crowd that had captured Ned. "I'll get even with them."
"It looks to me as though they had gotten even with us," remarked Peter Enderby, Denny's chum. "They paid us back, good and proper."
"That's all right. What we did wasn't half as mean as letting those mice loose and spoiling the dance."
"Oh, get out!" exclaimed Peter. "It's all in sport. What's the use of getting mad?"
But Denny declared he was going to watch his chance to pay the Darewell Chums back with interest.
But, though the four friends heard of Denny's threat, they were not alarmed over it. They felt they could hold their own. From then on, however, there was open warfare between the Upside Down Club members and the baseball nine and their friends, and many were the tricks each side played on the other.
One afternoon, about a week later, Jim Morton, who was watching a crowd of boys playing on the school campus, hailed Bart, as the latter, in chase of the ball, ran toward where Jim was lying stretched under a shady elm tree.
"What is it?" asked Bart
"I've been waiting until someone would knock a fly over in this direction, so's you come close," Jim went on. "I wanted to speak to you."
"Speak ahead," Bart went on, as he threw the ball back.
"Do you want a job as guide?"
"Guide? What do you mean?"
"I met a man the other day, stranger in town, I guess, and he asked me if I'd show him the corduroy road through the woods. I told him I had to go to school, and he said Saturday would do. But I don't just feel like taking the job. I've got spring fever I guess. To-morrow's Saturday, and he expects me to go to the hotel after him, and show him the road. But I know I'll be tired tomorrow and I thought maybe you'd like the job. He says he'll give five dollars."
"Oh, I don't know," Bart replied, somewhat surprised at what Jim told him. "What sort of a man is he?"
"He has red hair, that's all I remember. I was sort of sleepy the day he met me, and I didn't take much notice."
"How'd he come to ask you?" inquired Bart, wondering why lazy Jim had ever been requested to do anything.
"Sandy Merton told the man about me. The man went to Sandy first, said he heard Sandy knew the woods pretty well. But Sandy works for a farmer every Saturday, and he couldn't go, so he recommended me. Said it would be easy work, but I don't fancy tramping through the woods. Do you want the job?"
"Sure, I'll take it," Bart replied. "It'll be fun. I wonder if he only wants one boy?"
"I guess he doesn't mind. Said I could bring a friend along if I wanted to. Here, I'll give you his card, and you can inquire for him at the hotel," and Jim extended a bit of pasteboard on which was printed the name:
JACOB HARDMAN.
"I'll go see him," Bart remarked. "Sure you don't want the job, Jim? Five dollars is a nice bit of money to pick up for just going to the corduroy road."
"I—got—spring—fever," murmured Jim, and Bart saw that the boy's eyes were closed as though he had gone to sleep.
"Queer he had energy enough to tell me that much," remarked Bart, as he moved off. "Just like him, to lie here and wait for a chance ball to bring me in his direction. Jim certainly is the limit when it comes to laziness."
That evening Bart went to see Mr. Hardman at the hotel. He found the stranger pleasant enough, and, as Jim had said, with a wealth of thick red hair.
"You're the third boy that has been engaged for this work," said Mr. Hardman with a smile, when Bart had explained his errand. "I hope you will not fail me. You see I am a stranger in this locality, and I'm thinking of buying land for a house, if I like the place. But I'm fond of solitude, and I have heard that the woods, through which the corduroy road runs, are just about what I want. I don't wish to get lost, so I thought I would hire one of the town boys to show me around. Do you know your way through the forest?"
"Quite well," Bart replied. "I have camped there. The road is easy to find, but it winds in and out, and you might get lost, as there are several branches to it. What time do you want to start to-morrow?"
"About nine o'clock. You might bring a couple of friends, if you like. I'm fond of company. Is it worth while to take lunch?"
"Well, we could hardly go there and back before dinner."
"Then we'll take something to eat," Mr. Hardman went on. "Here are two dollars. Get some sandwiches and things, and we'll have a little picnic in the woods."
In spite of the man's apparently hearty manner Bart felt an indescribable aversion to him. Mr. Hardman was pleasant enough, but he had a habit of shifting his gaze around as he talked and he did not look one squarely in the eyes. But Bart gave only a momentary thought to that. He was wondering whether he had better bring his three chums on the trip. He was about to ask the man if he would object to a party of four boys, but Mr. Hardman evidently considered the incident closed, for he bowed to Bart and opened the door of his room, where the interview had taken place.
"I'll bring 'em anyhow," Bart decided, as he went downstairs. "He didn't mention any special number. Besides, I don't know the road any too well, and the others can help me out."
Bart told his three chums of the matter that night. Fenn and Ned said they would go, but Frank declared he had to do some errands for his uncle and would not be through in time.
"I may walk out that way and meet you," Frank said. "I expect to be finished shortly after dinner. Are you just going to the road and back?"
"I don't know how far he may want to go," Bart answered. "We'll probably be gone all day."
"Wish I could go," Frank said, but, as he spoke, his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere.
"Frank's getting stranger than ever," remarked Ned, as the former left Ned's house where the four chums were talking that evening. "I wonder if he doesn't want to go?"
"I guess he'd like to, if he could," Bart replied.
"Do you know anything about this Mr. Hardman?" asked Fenn.
"Only what I've heard," Bart answered. "He came to the hotel about a week ago. Seems to have plenty of money. Treated me very nicely, but, somehow I don't like him, and I can't give any reason for it."
"Did you get the grub with the money he gave you?" asked Ned.
"Yes."
The next morning the three chums went to the hotel. They found Mr. Hardman waiting for them.
"On time I see," he remarked, as Bart introduced Ned and Fenn. "It's just the morning for a nice long tramp. I hope you boys are good walkers."
"I guess we can keep up with you," Bart replied, and they started off.
It was about five miles from the hotel to where the corduroy road began to wend a tortuous way through the big woods back of the town of Darewell. It was the same road over which the chums had traveled the time they went camping just before the previous Thanksgiving, during which excursion they had shot considerable game.
They walked out through the suburbs of the town, and soon were in the open country. Then came a stretch of woodland, and, after a mile of this, the chums turned aside into a denser forest.
"Here's the corduroy road," said Bart, pointing to where the log highway began.
"Ah, indeed," remarked Mr. Hardman. "Quite interesting. Made of little logs laid side by side. To prevent wagons from sinking down into the mud, I suppose?"
"It isn't used much nowadays," volunteered Fenn. "It was built by the loggers when they were cutting some timber, but that was several years ago."
"Where does it lead to?"
"Right into the middle of the woods, and then it stops," replied Bart, thinking of the winter day they had last traveled over the road, and recalling what events had followed the discovery of the Perry family, suffering in the forest hut.
"We'll take a walk along it," Mr. Hardman went on. "It seems to be just the sort of locality I'm looking for. Quite lonesome enough to suit me."
It was pleasant in the forest that June day. On either side of the road grew tall ferns and there were many wild flowers. The birds were flitting through the branches, and, in spite of the rather queer expedition they were on, the boys enjoyed themselves. As for the man they were guiding, he was content to walk along, stopping, here and there, to look through the forest, or gather some flowers.
"Is there any particular place you want to go to?" asked Bart, when they had been walking on the road for perhaps half an hour.
"I thought you said the road did not lead anywhere."
"Neither it does, but there are paths through the woods branching off the road, and if you wanted to get to a certain spot I think we could take you there."
"No, I only want to see how the road runs. I am not looking for any particular place. But these paths you speak of, are they easy to find?"
"Not unless you know the woods pretty well," put in Ned.
"Ah! Then I suppose a person coming—say from the other side of the forest—would have difficulty in reaching the road and getting into Darewell?"
"It would be quite hard, I imagine," said Bart, "We have never been to the other edge of the forest. It is about ten miles in extent, and we have only been about half way through. It is pretty wild, the farther in you go."
"So much the better," Mr. Hardman murmured. "Now boys, are you ready for lunch? I confess the walk has given me an appetite."
"The same here," admitted Fenn with a laugh.
They sat down on a grassy bank, and ate the food Bart had purchased. Mr. Hardman seemed to be thinking of many things, for he hardly spoke during the impromptu meal, and, when he had eaten a couple of sandwiches he arose from the bank and wandered off a little way into the woods. When he came back he addressed Bart:
"Are you sure no one—er—say a sick person—could get from the other side of the forest to this road?"
"Well of course it's possible," admitted Bart, "but I don't believe a sick person, or a well one, either, could get here without a lot of trouble. There are no paths to speak of, so I've heard old hunters say."
"That's good," Mr. Hardman remarked, half to himself. "That's just what I want. Is this the only road leading into the woods from Darewell?"
"The only one," replied Bart.
"Then I guess I've seen enough."
"Do you think you'll build a house here?" asked Ned.
"Build a house here? What do you—Of course. Well, I like the place first rate. I must come again some day. I think we'll go back now. By the way, I must pay you," and he handed Bart the five-dollar bill.
"I'm much obliged," Bart said. "I'm afraid it was hardly worth so much. It was a regular picnic for us."
"So much the better," replied Mr. Hardman with a smile. "Now we'll go back."
They started to retrace their steps along the corduroy road, the boys wondering somewhat over the whim of Mr. Hardman. He had not acted like a man who had come to look for a place to erect a dwelling, and, though they expected some oddity in a man who preferred to live in the solitude of the forest, they could not account for his questions about whether or not a person could get from the farther side of the woods to the road.
For about an hour they tramped back over the way they had come. Mr. Hardman said little, and walked just ahead of the boys, who conversed among themselves. Just as they were nearing the end of the road he turned and asked:
"You are sure now there is no other way of going through the forest but this road?"
"Positive," replied Bart.
"You couldn't be mistaken?"
"Well, if there is a road no one in Darewell knows of it," put in Ned. "We've lived here a good many years, and have often been in these woods, and we never heard of any other road."
"That's good," Mr. Hardman responded, and he seemed well satisfied.
"I wonder if Frank will come to meet us?" asked Bart as Mr. Hardman resumed his position slightly in advance of the boys.
"You can't tell much about Frank lately," replied Ned. "I don't know what to make of him. I wish he'd tell us if he is in trouble, for we might help him. I know what it is to be worried about something and not have any one you can talk to. I found that out when I had to disappear in New York," and he laughed at the recollection, though at the time of his trouble he felt in a very different frame of mind.
"Well, we'll just have to let him alone until he's ready to tell us," said Fenn. "Hello!" he added, a moment later, "someone is coming along the road."
The chums stopped, as did Mr. Hardman. The sound of footsteps could be heard.
"Who is coming?" asked Mr. Hardman, and the boys thought he seemed alarmed.
"I don't know," Bart replied.
A moment later a figure appeared around a turn in the road.
"It's Frank!" exclaimed Ned.
"Who?" asked Mr. Hardman.
"Frank Roscoe; our chum," Bart said. "He has come to meet us."
"Frank Roscoe!" exclaimed Mr. Hardman, and the boys could see he was much excited.
"Frank Roscoe here! If I had known that!"
He turned suddenly and hurried past the boys, retracing his way along the corduroy road into the depths of the forest.
"I have forgotten some papers!" he exclaimed, not turning his head. "I must have left them on the bank where we ate lunch. I'll get them. Don't wait for me. I can find my way back."
Then he was gone, a curve in the road hiding him from sight. But by this time Frank had come up to his chums. He saw Mr. Hardman's sudden retreat, and had caught the words the man called back to the boys. At the sound of them Frank broke into a run.
"What's the matter?" cried Bart, surprised at his friend's action.
"I must catch that man!" exclaimed Frank, as he raced past his chums.
For a moment the three boys were so surprised they did not know what to make of it. The queer action of Mr. Hardman, in suddenly fleeing, was only equaled by Frank's pursuit.
"Let's go and see what it means," suggested Ned, as he turned to go back over the road.
The sun had gone under a cloud and the woods were quite dark, as the forest was dense at this point. The three chums hurried on in the semi-twilight. They had not gone far before they met Frank coming back.
"Did you catch him?" asked Ned.
"No. He must have turned off into the woods. What is his name? How did you fellows come to be out with him? What made him run back as soon as he saw me?"
"One at a time," suggested Ned. "We can't answer all those questions at once. What made you run after him?"
"Because I believe him to be a man who knows something I should know," Frank replied, for, though he did not tell his chums, he recognized in Mr. Hardman's voice the tones of the stranger who had been at his uncle's house one night and who had warned the boy back when Frank had attempted to follow.
"Do you suppose he turned back because he saw you?" asked Ned.
"He said he had forgotten some papers," observed Fenn.
"Yes, and he said he must have left them on the bank where we ate lunch," responded Bart. "But did either of you observe him have any papers in his hands? I guess not. He didn't look at a single paper from the time we started. That was only an excuse."
"It's a queer mystery," remarked Bart, looking at Frank. "Can we help solve it?"
"I'm afraid not," Frank replied with a smile. "But come on, it's getting late."
"Perhaps we ought to stay and see if Mr. Hardman will come back," suggested Fenn. "He may get lost in the woods."
"I guess not," was Bart's opinion. "I think he knows these woods as well as we do."
"Then what was his object in having us show him the road?"
"Part of the general mystery," said Bart. "It's too deep for me. If Frank knows it, why perhaps he'll tell."
"I wish I could," their chum answered, and the boys noticed that he was quite solemn. "It's something that concerns me personally, and I am not in a position, yet, to tell any one. I have only suspicions to go on, and it would not be fair to tell them to any one, until I see how near the truth I am. I admit I must seem to be acting strangely, but I can't help it. I wish I had caught that man. I believe he holds the secret I wish to solve. Where did you meet him?"
Bart told the circumstances connected with taking Mr. Hardman to the woods, and of his curious questions.
"Tell me over again that one he asked about sick persons finding their way through the woods," Frank asked, and Bart repeated it. Frank seemed to ponder over it.
"I think I'll try to see him at the hotel," Frank remarked a little later. "He may come back tonight. If he does, and I can get any clues to what I want, I may have something to tell you."
"I think we can give you a piece of news now," Ned put in. "We have been keeping it a secret, thinking the time would come when you could make use of it. Well that time seems to have come now."
Then he related what had taken place the night he was kidnapped by the Upside Down Club, and detailed the conversation of the two men in the vacant house.
"Are you sure about this?" asked Frank. "Are you sure they spoke about my uncle, and property and a sanitarium?"
"Positive," replied Ned. "Why?"
"It all fits in!" exclaimed Frank. "It bears out my theory. Now, if I could only find the place, I would have something to work on. Perhaps you fellows could help me!"
"We sure will, and you can depend on us!" cried Ned heartily.
"Thanks," replied Frank simply, but there was much meaning in the little word. "I may call on you sooner than I thought I could."
"Can't do it too soon for us," Bart made answer. "We want to get this thing cleared up. It's worrying you, Frank; isn't it fellows?"
"Yes, it is," admitted their chum. "It is worrying me and I want the secret cleared up, but I have to go slow. There are a number of persons involved, and I have to feel my way. The time may come when you will think I have done wrong, but when it is all explained you will say I'm right."
Frank's talk, his refusal to explain what he meant, and the strange scene, in which he and Mr. Hardman figured, was a great mystery to the three chums, but they felt they had no right to press Frank for an explanation. They could only wait until he told them what it all meant.
It was now getting dusk, and, deciding it was no use to wait for Mr. Hardman, the boys hurried back to Darewell. The first thing Frank did was to call at the hotel to make some inquiries regarding Mr. Hardman. But, beyond the fact that he was registered there as coming from New York, and that he seemed to have plenty of money, nothing could be learned. The man was not in, the clerk said, and was in the habit of going off and staying a day or two at a time. He had been at the hotel a little over a week, but seemed to have no acquaintances except Sandy, Jim and the three chums, if they could be so classed.
"Any luck?" asked Ned, as Frank stopped at his house that night, on his way back from the hotel.
"No, none," was the reply in hopeless tones. "But I'm going there again to-morrow. He may stay in, because it's Sunday, and I can get a chance to talk to him."
"Better not let him know you want to speak to him," suggested Ned. "If you do he'll make some excuse and slip out."
"I'll not send up my name when I inquire at the desk," Frank answered.
But his precautions were useless, for, when he called at the hotel the next morning, he learned that Mr. Hardman had come in at midnight, had paid his bill, and departed on the one o'clock train.
"Did he say where he was going?" asked Frank of the clerk.
"I don't know. The night man was on, but we don't generally ask our guests where they are going."
"I thought he might have left word where he wanted his mail forwarded."
"That's so, I believe he did," the clerk answered, for he knew Frank quite well. He looked in the letter rack, and found a slip the night clerk had left, directing that all mail for Mr. Hardman was to be sent to the general delivery, Lockport.
"Lockport," murmured Frank, as he left the hotel. "That is a town close to the other edge of the woods. I wonder what he can be doing there? Very well, if he's in Lockport I'll go there, but I'm afraid I'll have trouble finding him. However, I must try. He's likely to stop at a hotel, and there can't be more than two or three in Lockport."
Somewhat discouraged over his failure to find Mr. Hardman, Frank went back to his uncle's house. All that Sunday he remained indoors, though his chums called in the afternoon, and wanted him to go for a walk.
"Don't have any hard feelings," Frank said, when he declined the invitation. "I'm in no mood for walking or talking. I'll feel better tomorrow."
Then he went back to his room, to brood over his secret. He debated with himself whether or not he ought to tell his uncle what he had seen and heard, and ask for an explanation of the matter.
But Mr. Dent was rather a stern man, and, though he was very kind to Frank, he did not encourage confidences. So, after thinking it all over, Frank decided he would try, a little longer, to solve the mystery by his own efforts. He did not want to appeal to his uncle and be met with a refusal.
"I tell you what it is," Ned remarked, as the three chums walked away from Frank's house. "We've got to do something to cheer Frank up."
"What would you suggest?" asked Fenn.
"Let's have some sort of fun," replied Ned. "I've got an idea!" he exclaimed suddenly. "It will be a great joke! We'll play it on Jim Morton."
"Jim's too lazy to play jokes on," said Fenn.
"This is going to be a lazy joke," explained Ned.
As they walked along, the three chums perfected their plans for some fun they hoped would take Frank's mind off his trouble for a while, and, at the same time, afford amusement for themselves.
"Besides it will be a sort of lesson for Jim," said Ned. "He's getting worse and worse. After a bit he'll be too lazy to draw his breath, and then he'll die and it will be our fault."
"I don't see how you make that out," declared Bart.
"Why, it's our duty to prevent him from dying by providing such contests as this I am about to arrange."
"Go ahead," put in Fenn. "We're with you."
The next Monday morning there appeared on the bulletin board in the boys' court of the high school this notice:
ATTENTION!
"Arrangements have been perfected for a grand free-for-all race, for the championship of the school. The affair will be in the nature of a handicap, and there will be three prizes, for the first, second and third winners. Any boy in the school may enter, and there will be no fee collected. The race will take place Saturday afternoon on the school campus. The distance and conditions will be made known at the time of the start. It is hoped that there will be a large number of entries. The more the merrier."
The notice was signed by the school athletic committee, of which Bart was chairman. At the noon recess Bart was besieged by a crowd of boys asking all sorts of questions about the contest, from the kind of prizes to be offered, to the distance to be run.
"I can't tell you any more than is in the notice," Bart answered. "All you have to do is to train for the race, and the committee will attend to the rest."
With this they had to be content. As Ned had suggested, this did serve to take Frank's mind off his troubles to a certain extent. He inquired about the contest, and, when he was sufficiently interested, his three chums took him to one side and explained that it was gotten up for the benefit of Jim Morton.
"Do you think you can get him to enter?" asked Frank.
"I guess so, if I talk to him right," Ned replied. Then he set to work to get Jim to become one of the contestants.
"Why, you know I can't run," Jim complained, when Ned broached the matter to him. "Besides, I don't believe in races. It takes too much time and strength. I'll live longer if I don't hurry so much," and Jim, slowed up in his walk, which was slow enough at best.
"But this is different," Ned went on. "You know you're giving the school a bad name by being so lazy."
"How?" asked Jim, in some surprise.
"Why, you've been made an honorary member of the athletic committee," Ned went on. It was a fact, but he had engineered the matter through. "Now how does it look to see one of our honorary members so lazy he won't even enter a contest? Besides, I think you could win this race, Jim."
"Me win? Why, you know I haven't ever run a race."
"But I think you can win this one," Ned went on, rather mysteriously. "If you'd only train a little bit I know you could beat lots of the fellows. Let me enter you as one of the contestants, and some of us fellows will practice with you nights."
"All right," Jim assented, rather flattered that the chums would go to so much trouble on his account. "I'll try, but I know I can't come in even third."
"You wait," counseled Ned.
The news soon spread that Jim had entered as a contestant in the race. And, what was more surprising, he had begun to train. Few of the High School boys believed it until they saw Jim speeding around the campus one evening, with Ned and his chums. Frank entered into the spirit of the joke, which only the four knew of, and there were impromptu brushes, in which Jim frequently came in ahead. This, of course, was all arranged to give the new athlete confidence in himself. As for Jim, he really seemed to be interested in running. At first he was so stiff, from lack of practice, that he ran like a lame cow. But in a few days he could pick up his heels to better advantage.
"We'll cure him when it comes to the final show-down," declared Ned. "We'll cure Jim of laziness, and it will be a fine piece of work."
"Best of all, though," said Bart, "Frank seems to have forgotten his troubles, and that's why we undertook this."
"If only he doesn't begin to worry, after the fun, we expect to have Saturday, is over," put in Ned, a little doubtful of his own experiment.
There were scores entered in the race, and that insured a good attendance at the event. In spite of many questions the chums refused to tell any details of the contest, and it was much of a mystery as ever Saturday afternoon, when all the boys, and quite a crowd of girls, were gathered on the campus. Ned got up on a box to make an announcement, and to tell the conditions of the race.
"Entries are not limited," he said. "We'll admit boys, girls, dogs, puppies or any animal that walks, flies or crawls."
There was laughter at what they all took to be a joke.
"I mean it," Ned went on. "If any of you have a dog or a goat you want to see race, put him in. We'll make the conditions and the prizes fit any person or animal," and there was more laughter.
"What's the distance?" inquired several of the boys who had donned racing trunks and spiked shoes.
"Five times around the campus," Ned answered. "That's about a mile."
"Where are the prizes?"
"They will be shown and awarded after the race. Now are you all ready?"
"Aren't you going to run this off in heats?" asked Lem Gordon. "There are too many to start at once."
"No, it's a free-for-all race, but those who have been in previous contests will have to start off first."
"Last, you mean, I guess," said Lem. "That's the proper way to handicap."
"Not for this race," Ned replied.
"Why not?"
"Because this is going to be a lazy race."
"A lazy race!" cried half a score of voices.
"Yes, a lazy race. The person or animal who comes in last, after making five circuits, wins."
"Are there going to be animals in this?" demanded Lem.
"Of course there are. This is free-for-all. Here is my entry," and Ned, turning over the box he had been standing on, disclosed a big mud turtle, that started to crawl away as soon as it got into the light.
"A mud turtle race!" cried Lem.
"Certainly! Why not?" demanded Ned, "This turtle has been trained against Jim Morton, champion lazy racer of the Darewell High School!" he went on in a loud voice, to make himself heard above the shouts of laughter. "Now, all ready. Come on, Jim, I believe you can beat the turtle if you half try!"
Such a yell as there was at this! The boys and girls realized the joke that had been played, and even Jim did not hesitate to join in the merriment, for he appreciated the trick which had been worked on him.
"One! Two! Three! Go!" cried Ned. "There goes the turtle!" and he pointed to where the animal was crawling along at a rapid rate. "Hurry up, Jim, or he'll beat you!"
"I guess not," Jim replied. "I'm going to take a rest. This training has tired me out," and he sat down on the grass.
"Any one want to compete against the turtle?" asked Ned. "Come on now. Remember, it's free-for-all."
But no one seemed to care to contest, and, amid yells and laughter at the manner in which they had been fooled, the boys began arranging impromptu races among themselves.
"You worked that pretty slick," Jim said, as the chums approached him. "You jollied me along in great shape. But I'll have to take lots of rest now, to make up for it."
"Well, you found out you could run if you tried," Frank remarked, as he looked at where Jim was sprawled on the grass.
"Oh, I knew it all along," Jim replied, "only I didn't want it to get out, for fear I'd have to enter all the contests. Maybe I'll go in the next real race," he added. "I've trained enough for three or four seasons I guess."
"I'm afraid you're not cured yet," commented Ned with a laugh. "It was all for your good, Jim."
"That's all right. I appreciate that, and I'm much obliged to you. Can I have that turtle?"
"What for?"
"Why, I thought maybe I could educate it," and Jim smiled.
"Go ahead; take it if you want to," Ned replied. "I had trouble enough catching it in the river."
Jim carried off the turtle, and the crowd of boys and girls, laughing and joking about the lazy race, gradually dispersed.
"Wonder what Jim wanted of the turtle?" asked Fenn, as the four chums walked along.
"Give it up," said Ned. "Going to train it to waltz maybe."
"More like he's going to play some joke on you for what you did," suggested Frank, who was in better spirits than his friends had observed him to be for some time.
And that was exactly what happened. When the chums got to school the next Monday morning, they were met with queer glances on every side. At last Ned demanded:
"What are you fellows grinning at? What's the joke? Tell us and we'll laugh too."
"Better go downtown and look in the drug store window," advised Lem Gordon.
The chums took the advice that afternoon. They found quite a crowd in front of the "Emporium," as the drug store was called. Working their way up to the window the four boys saw a queer sight.
A big box had been arranged to represent a pond, with rushes and grass growing around the edges. In the center was a little mound of stones, that were raised above the surface of the water with which the box was filled.
But what attracted more attention, than the accurate representation of a pond, was a big mud turtle resting on the stones lazily blinking at the crowds that stared at it, as though pleased with the homage paid. And, on a card hanging over the turtle, was this inscription:
"Winner of the Darewell High School annual lazy-race. Trained for the event by Ned Wilding, Fenn Masterson, Bart Keene and Frank Roscoe."
"I guess that's one on you," remarked Lem Gordon, as he joined the chums while they were looking in the window. "Jim got back at you all right."
"Yes, I guess he did," admitted Ned.
Nearly everyone in the crowd knew the four chums, and the boys were subjected to considerable chaffing over the notice about training the turtle. They took it good-naturedly, and when Jim Morton came strolling along, a little doubtful as to how the four lads would treat him, because of the joke he had played, Ned called out:
"That's a good one, Jim."
"Much obliged for that turtle," Jim responded. Then, as he walked a little way down the street with the chums he told them he had sold the animal to the drug store proprietor for a dollar and had suggested putting it in the window, to attract attention, and serve as an advertisement.
It now lacked but a few weeks to vacation time, and every boy in the school, including the four chums, was counting the hours until the classes would close for the summer.
"We haven't made our vacation plans yet," said Fenn one afternoon, when the boys were out on the river in their boat. "What are we going to do?"
"Let's take another boating trip, away up the river," suggested Ned.
"I was going to propose a walking trip, taking in the whole county and lasting three weeks," Bart put in.
"That's too much work," commented Fenn.
"You're getting so fat you're lazy," remarked Ned. "But I think myself walking is a little too tiresome."
"Oh, I only just mentioned it," Bart hurried to add. "I don't insist on it. Let's hear what Frank has to say."
"I'm in favor of going camping," was Frank's answer. "I think it would be fun to go to the farther end of the big woods."
"Away off there?" asked Ned in some surprise.
"That's a good distance," commented Bart.
"And lonesome," added Fenn.
"But it's just right for camping," Frank went on. "We don't want to put up our tent in the middle of a village. The wilder place we can find the better."
"There's something in that," Bart admitted. "I'd like to camp where we couldn't hear a railroad whistle or a factory bell. But what's your idea going so far into the woods, Frank?"
"Nothing in particular, I only happened to think of it," but Frank's manner showed that he had some reason for the suggestion, and did not want to tell his chums. Ned was the only one of the three who noticed it, however, and he concluded to say nothing, but to keep close watch over Frank.
"The far end of the big woods," mused Bart aloud. "That is the place Mr. Hardman was inquiring about. By the way, Frank, did you ever catch him?"
"No, he went to Lockport. I wrote to a friend there, as I didn't have time to go myself, and I got an answer that no one of that name was at any of the hotels. So I concluded there wasn't much use bothering any more. But I'll find him some day, and when I do—" Frank paused. His chums looked at him, wondering at the emphasis he put in his words. "But let's talk about camping," the boy went on. "What do you say? Shall we go to the woods?"
"Suits me," remarked Ned, and the others agreed that it would be as much fun, for the vacation season, as anything they could propose.
They were soon busy talking over the details, arranging about the tent and the cooking utensils, and discussing the best way of transporting their camp stuff. They made some inquiries the next day and learned that by going to Lockport they could enter the woods by an old trail, seldom used, and could travel much more easily than if they worked their way in by the corduroy road.
"That's what we'll do," decided Ned. "Then, Frank, maybe you can have a chance to find your friend, Mr. Hardman."
"I don't believe I'll look for him," Frank replied. "We'll not have much time in Lockport anyhow. I have another plan now," but he did not tell his chums what it was.
Two weeks later school closed, and the boys completed their preparations for going camping. They packed up their tent and other stuff and shipped it to Lockport. They followed it two days later, and one bright morning, having seen their things loaded upon a wagon, they started off for the depths of the big woods.
"Well, this is something like camping," observed Bart that evening, when, having pitched their tent in midst of a particularly lonely bit of the big woods, they sat down to rest. The selection of the spot had been Frank's, and, though his chums had wondered somewhat at it, they agreed with him that it was a good place.
There was a little stream running through the forest, not far from where they pitched their tent, and their first attempt was rewarded by a catch of several fine fish. Fenn, who had been elected cook, soon had them frying with some bits of bacon, and Bart, leaning back comfortably against a big tree, made the remark quoted above.
"Say, are you a visitor, or only a day boarder?" asked Fenn, as he looked up from his cooking and observed Bart. "There's lots to be done yet. Lanterns to fill, the cots to get ready, and a trench to dig around the tent to keep the water away when it rains. You'd better get busy."
"Just as you say," answered Bart good-naturedly. "I'm willing to do my share."
He got a shovel and began digging the trench. Ned was busy with the lanterns, and seeing that the guy ropes were tight, while Frank looked after putting the folding cots up, and getting out the blankets. In a short time the camp was in fair shape, and Fenn announced that supper was ready.
In the cool of the evening, after the meal, they sat about the tent, before the campfire, and felt very well satisfied with the place.
"To-morrow we'll take our guns and take a tramp through the woods," said Bart. "I don't s'pose there's anything much to shoot, but we may get a chance at a hawk or something."
"Hawks aren't good to eat," remarked Fenn.
"Who said they were? Just because you're cook you needn't think every time we take our guns we're going out to stock up the pantry. We'll kill the hawks and save the farmers' chickens. They'll appreciate that."
"I don't believe there's a farmer within two miles of here," commented Ned. "We're quite a way from civilization. It's five miles to Lockport, the nearest town."
Tramping through the woods the next day the chums found the forest even wilder than they had anticipated. There were no trails or paths to be seen, and it looked as though few, if any persons, ever visited the vicinity. But the boys liked it all the better on this account. As Bart had said, there were no sounds of civilization to be heard; no locomotive whistles or factory bells.
"I had no idea there was such a wilderness in this part of the country," remarked Ned, as they walked along, looking in vain for something to shoot at. "I wonder if we'll come across a lonely cabin, where a hermit or a wild man lives?"
"It's lonesome enough for any sort of a hermit," said Fenn, as he paused and looked about him. The silence of the deep woods was broken only by the wind moving the branches of the trees, and by the songs of birds. "It looks like the jumping-off place. I guess—Hello! What's that?" and he pointed to something up in a tree.
"A hawk?" questioned Bart, raising his gun.
"No, it looks like a telephone wire."
"A telephone wire in these woods?" inquired Ned.
"That's what it is," Fenn went on, as he stepped back to get a better view, and caught sight of the two twisted strands of insulated copper. "There's no mistaking a telephone wire."
"That's queer," murmured Frank. "I wonder if—" then he paused. "Let's follow it and see where it leads to," he added, after a moment.
"What for?" asked Bart.
"Why, just to find out," Frank answered. "If there's a telephone wire there may be people near at hand!"
"I don't know's it makes much difference if there are," was Ned's comment. "These woods are open to any one who wants to come in, just as they are to us. Why should we bother to follow a telephone wire?"
"Oh, I just mentioned it," Frank hastened to add. "I'm not particular."
The wire was fastened to trees, about twenty feet above the ground, and ran in a zig-zag direction through the woods. It had evidently been put up by men not familiar with the telephone business, for no attempt had been made to go in a straight line, and, in some places the porcelain insulators were carelessly fastened to the trees. The wire was run through the branches with little regard for the safety of the conductor, and the boys noticed several places where better support might have been had for it, than was taken advantage of by those who put it up.
The chums tramped for an hour or more, coming across the wire several times in the course of their wanderings. Frank was generally the first one to see it, and finally Ned remarked:
"You must be very much interested in that, Frank."'
"No, not specially. I'd like to know where it runs to, that's all."
"You can trace it this afternoon."
"Maybe I will."
Ned and Bart decided on a fishing trip that afternoon, and Fenn elected to stay in camp and fix his gun, which had gotten slightly out of order.
"What you going to do, Frank?" asked Bart.
"I think I'll take a nap in the tent."
Bart and Ned, taking their poles and lines, went up along the stream, to a deeper part which they had observed in their morning journey. Fenn brought his gun out in front of the tent and proceeded to take it apart. As for Frank, he stood about for a while, watching Fenn, and then, remarking that he thought he would stretch out on one of the cots, went inside the tent.
It was nearly two hours before Fenn had his gun fixed to suit him. Then, oiling and cleaning it, he took some cartridges and set up a mark to shoot at.
"Come on out and try your luck!" he called to Frank.
There was no answer from the tent.
"Come on out! It's too nice to sleep!" Fenn shouted again. He fired at the target, and made a bull's-eye, much to his surprise and delight. "I say, Frank!" he shouted. "Come on, I can beat you all to pieces!"
He ran to the tent and lifted up the flap. He expected to see Frank stretched out on one of the cots, but what was his astonishment to learn that the canvas house was empty. There was no sign of Frank, and none of the cots showed any signs of having been used since they were made up that morning.
"That's queer, I didn't see him come out, and I was in front of the tent all the while," said Fenn. "He must have slipped past when I was hunting for that little screw I dropped."
He felt a vague sense of uneasiness, for, though he tried to make himself believe that Frank had come out unnoticed by him, he was not as sure of it as he desired to be. He moved toward the back part of the tent, and saw something that caused him to utter an exclamation.
For there, plainly to be seen in the dirt floor of the tent, were marks, showing where someone had crawled out under the rear wall of canvas. The sod, which was not yet tramped down, was torn, and one of the tent pegs had been pulled up by the strain. There was a rear entrance to the tent, but it was tightly laced shut, and would have taken some time to open.
"Frank didn't want me to know he was going," said Fenn to himself. "He wanted to slip away for some reason. Now I wonder what it could have been? He's been acting very queer lately. I hope—"
Just then Ned and Bart came through the woods, carrying strings of fish.
"What's the matter?" asked Bart, as Fenn came to the flap of the tent, his face plainly showing something had happened.
"Frank's gone!"
"What do you mean? Off for a stroll in the woods? Well, that's nothing."
"No, he crawled out of the back of the tent while I was fixing my gun! He didn't want me to see him go! Boys, I'm afraid there's something wrong with Frank!"