"But evidently, in some way, it has to do with your future, and Cal Dobson knows, or suspects, the secret, too. How did you happen to be bound out to him in the first place, Jed?" Frank went on, anxious to know more of this strange thing.
"Why, you see, he is my mother's first cousin, and he applied to have me bound out to him, as the next of kin. No one else wanted me, and so they handed me over to him to bring to Centerville," replied the boy readily.
"That's a point worth remembering. So he's a relative, eh? I guess nobody around here knew that before. Evidently Mr. Dobson has some scheme in view, and the possession of this same locket is concerned in it. He could get plenty of boys, but there is something else beyond that."
"Hey, Frank, talk about your lawyers, you ought to be one," declared Jerry.
"But you see I want to help Jed, if I can. He is in trouble, and we must stand by him, fellows."
"And we will. Do you think the old humbug has really gone home?" asked Will.
"Perhaps he may get out a warrant to take Jed away, and bring some officer up here to serve it," suggested Jerry.
Frank did not appear alarmed, as he continued:
"Somehow, I don't seem to believe it. Dobson looked worried when I spoke about his cruel treatment of the bound boy. He knows the law would never stand back of such a thing. Then he fears your father, Bluff. Perhaps he has more reason now, than ever, for getting his hands on the boy."
Jed was wringing his hands and looking exceedingly unhappy.
"He'll get me, sooner or later, I know it. One way or another, he never gives up a thing he has set his heart on; and he wants this locket very much. Oh! won't you take it, and keep it for me, please?" he asked.
"Why, certainly I will, only not just now. How do we know but what he is watching us, even at this very minute. Pretend to put it away again, Jed, and manage to slip it to me unseen. I promise you that it will never leave my person, and when you want it again, all you have to do is to ask."
"Thank you. If you only knew how much better you have made me feel. Perhaps in some way I can be taken from him and placed in another home. Oh! I am willing to work just as hard as I can if only itwasa home!"
So presently Frank secreted the gold locket in an inner pocket, where it could not be lost. He knew that there was a deep mystery connected somehow with the little trinket, and while he could not fathom it just then, in good time, no doubt, the secret must appear.
Every time he felt it there his thoughts were bound to go out toward poor Jed, and the important message which his dying mother had meant to give him at the time she pressed the locket into his hands.
"How long do we stay in this camp, fellows?" asked Bluff.
"A few days only," replied Frank, with a mysterious smile.
"Look here, you've got something you're keeping from us," said Jerry boldly.
"That's what I was thinking. So out with it, Frank. No secrets, please."
Will assumed a mock threatening appearance, holding the big spoon up as though it were a baton, for they were washing up the supper things at the time.
"Well, I suppose I'll have to, boys, seeing that I couldn't expect to keep the secret much longer. Listen, then, and you shall hear. Have any of you ever hunted through these mountains to any extent?" asked Frank.
"I've been up here once or twice, but it's mostly new to me," said Jerry.
"Well, I studied a chart of the place, which, by the way, is in my ditty bag at this minute. Please hand it over to me, Bluff. Now, here you are."
He opened it up, and the others eagerly bent over, all dish-washing operations being temporarily suspended in the common interest.
"Here's the road we came by, and about this spot is where our present camp is located. Just two miles beyond lies Lake Surprise, which they tell me is a beautiful little body of water," went on Frank, pointing with his lead pencil on the map.
"Yes, I've heard about it, too. They say it springs upon you as you turn a bend of the old logging road, and no one ever fails to gasp with surprise at the beautiful sight. Hence the name. Well, go on, Frank," observed Will.
"Three days from now we will be encamped on the shore of that same lake, if all goes well, and by that night there will be an arrival that must astonish you. No use trying to guess, for you couldn't in a year. It will be Adolphus, with the team, and what do you think he will be toting up there?"
"More grub," answered Bluff promptly.
A shake of the head in the negative followed.
"Not the girls?" suggested Jerry eagerly, and with a sly blush.
"Well, much as I would like to see them, that is not the true answer. It struck me that since the time the Indians used to paddle around that little gem of a lake there had never been a canoe floating on its waters, and my father proposed that he send up our boats, so that we could have a glorious week to wind up with."
"Hurrah!"
"A glorious thought on your part, Frank."
"Won't it be fun, though! And the fishing must be fine, since no one ever comes up here much." This from Jerry, who always had an eye out for the sport.
"So make the most of this camp while we are here. It's a pretty good one for its kind, with those rocks heaped up as a back-rest, and the trees stretching far away all around. All it lacks is water in front to make it perfect."
"Right you are, Frank. And those same rocks look pretty wild, too. I noticed a big crack right back of our fire, there. Perhaps at some time in the dim past a bear or other wild beast may have had its den in there," said Will.
"Cracky! That is so! And by the same token, I mean to explore the place in the morning. Who knows what a fellow might find in a hole like that?"
"Better go slow, Jerry. Remember that this place up here has been getting a bad name. You might run across the ghost of Oak Ridge in the course of your poking around into such holes," laughed Frank.
"H'm! That wouldn't please me a little bit. If we have to come on that specter thing, I'd rather it was when we were all in a bunch," replied the one addressed.
"Yes, in union there is strength. But don't forget, all of you, that one of the main objects in our selecting the Sunset Mountains for our present vacation trip was the hope of discovering the truth about that same ghost. Hello! I declare if here isn't another visitor!"
All of them jumped as Frank uttered these last words. Poor Jed gave a piteous little whimper, as though his fears had not wholly subsided by any means.
Some one was seen striding boldly toward the campfire, coming from the direction of the road. Immediately Jerry gave utterance to an exclamation.
"Why, as sure as I live, I believe it's Andy!" he said.
"That's who it is—Andy Lasher," echoed Will.
"Now what do you suppose that fellow wants here?" muttered Bluff, who was not so thoroughly convinced of the reform of Andy as some of his chums.
The advancing form drew rapidly near.
"Hello, Andy!" said Jerry, holding out his hand.
Jerry had saved the life of the town bully the previous fall, when during a storm a great tree had fallen and pinned him to the ground. Ever since Andy had tried to show his gratitude toward his benefactor. At the same time he would not make friends to any extent with the other three boys.
"Howdy, Jerry," said the newcomer gruffly, as he accepted the offered hand.
He seemed to be carrying an old grip, as though he might be on his way across the mountains to the bustling manufacturing town of Chester, where there were always chances for obtaining a job.
"Won't you sit down, Andy? We're long done supper, but if you're hungry we can stir up something."
Jerry always said "we," as though he wished to impress it upon the other's mind that the balance of his crowd were with him in all he said and did.
"Ain't got time, Jerry. Got some business that's takin' me across here to-night. I knowed you fellers was a-campin' round here, an' I wanted to tell you something I thought you orter know. Pet Peters and his crowd is up here, and they mean to make you trouble some way or other. That's all. I'll be goin' on, now, Jerry."
Andy was plainly nervous. He had always been a bold spirit, so that it could hardly be the presence of the other boys that affected him. Frank wondered what ailed him, but of course he would not ask.
"Then you won't stop over night with us, Andy?" asked Jerry.
"Mighty kind of you to say that, but I can't, not this time. I'm in a big hurry, you see. Saw Pet and the boys hatching up something and thought I'd just drop in while goin' past, to put you wise. So-long, Jerry."
Andy completely ignored the others. Not that they cared in the least, for of old there had been war to the knife between this big fellow and the members of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club. They could not easily forget how vindictive he had ever been in his pursuit of the four chums.
He wheeled, and walked away, leaving the campers staring after him. So he presently vanished from their vision, heading back toward the "tote" road.
"Well," said Will, with a little laugh, "what d'ye think of that?"
"I say it's good of him to go to the trouble to warn us. He didn't know that we had any idea those fellows were up here, and he came in good faith, meaning to save us from being caught napping," said Jerry stoutly.
"Oh, that's all right, Jerry. I admit that Andy is trying to walk the straight path, and that all his success, so far, is due to you. But what do you think he is doing up here?" demanded Bluff.
"I don't know; and, more than that, I don't believe it's any of my business," returned Jerry promptly and significantly.
"Meaning that it isn't any of mine, either. Granted, for the sake of argument, but all the same I can't help wondering."
"Yes, that's the lawyer of it, always wanting to know. Perhaps he just felt like taking a walk," jeered Jerry.
"More than likely he's on his way across the Sunset Mountains to Chester, looking for a job. I understand from the map that there's a good road all the way over," said Frank, always ready to soothe the two belligerents.
"Well, in that case, I hope he gets a good one. You mark my words, fellows, that Andy Lasher is going to come out all right yet," declared Jerry.
"It seemed to me he didn't like to see us up here," remarked Will.
"Well, now, that was my idea, too, though I don't know why he should feel that way about it. These mountains are free to all. A few trappers spend their winters up here, Jesse Wilcox among them, sometimes, but I guess our camping for two weeks isn't going to interfere with anybody's enjoyment," laughed Frank.
"Except the ghost's," remarked Bluff soberly, at which all laughed.
They were seated about in various attitudes a short time later. Will, as usual, busied himself with his camera, which he was never weary of handling. Bluff had started to oil his precious repeating gun for the third time since leaving town, just as if he expected the dampness to play havoc with its shooting powers. Frank was writing something in his diary, for he made it a practice to keep a log of each outing, which had proved a great pleasure to all the members of the club during the long winter evenings, when they were snow-bound at home.
Jerry was talking in a low tone with the fugitive bound boy, on the other side of the fire, and drawing out some little facts in connection with his life that seemed to interest him intensely.
It looked like a wonderfully peaceful scene. The fire blazed cheerily, sending up tongues of flame. At times the night air wafted the smoke back into the crevice among the rocks close at hand, which the boys had noticed, and intended to explore in the morning.
Suddenly, without a breath of warning, all this was changed as if by the wand of a magician. There was a horrible roar, that thrilled the campers, and a great black body came wallowing out from the crevice in the rocks, plunging headlong into the fire, which was scattered hither and thither by the furious attack.
"A bear!" shouted Frank, as he rolled over out of the way.
"I told you so!" shouted Bluff, as he fell over in his eagerness to get up.
"Somebody shoot him!" bellowed Jerry, who was directly in the path of the bear, if the rolling monster concluded to keep on after he had extinguished the several little fires in his hairy hide.
Frank had a method in his activity in rolling away from the danger zone. He remembered that he had placed his gun at the foot of the tree that had the gnarly trunk, and in a case of this sort the quicker a fellow laid hands on some means of defense the better.
Now Bruin was once more upon his feet, having succeeded in putting out the few sparks that had threatened to set him on fire, so that if he ran through the forest he must have resembled an animated torch.
Bang!
That was surely the voice of the repeating gun. Bluff had had it in his hands at the time the bear, angered by the constant inrush of bitter smoke, had dashed from his den, among the blazing fagots.
It had taken Bluff just about five seconds to get himself together and raise his gun to a level with the struggling black form among the scattered brands of the disturbed fire.
"Whoop! Give him some more,you!" shouted Jerry, peering over the top of the log behind which he had now taken refuge.
Bang!
That shot came from another quarter. Frank did not mean to be left out in the cold entirely, apparently.
Then Bluff took up the refrain again, which was an invitation for Frank to make use of his second barrel. By that time the bear had ceased making any attempt at escape, and was lying, inert, on the ground. Four charges, even of bird shot, when fired only ten feet away, at the most, can do the execution of as many bullets of large caliber.
"Well done, fellows! I congratulate the brave Nimrods!" vociferated Jerry, coming out from his place of refuge and waving his cap in the air.
Snap! Will had made another flash picture.
"Wouldn't have lost that one for a good deal, I tell you," he said.
Jerry, in his demonstrative way, went around shaking hands with every one, even little Jed, who had been petrified with horror during the entire proceedings, and could only stare at what was passing.
"Talk about your luck! What d'ye think of that? Meat just drops into our hands as we sit around our campfire. Tell me about your Israelites in the desert, and the manna that they picked up—we don't even have to move to get a full larder."
"Well, bear's meat may please some, but it's pretty tough," commented Will.
"Come off, you practical man! Where's your sporting blood? Think of the delight of sitting here and chewing on meat that fell to your gun. What odds if it is as tough as an old cow? It'sgame! That ought to settle it. Imagination can make even bear meat seem as tender as spring lamb," declared Jerry.
"And there's the skin. That will make a bully old rug for my den!" exclaimed Bluff, looking boldly at Frank, as though challenging him to dispute his claim.
"You're welcome to it, seeing that I have several already, but I'm afraid you'll find it a pretty poor specimen at this season of the year. The pelts are never good for much until fall sets in. The beast has hardly stopped shedding last winter's coat of hair," laughed Frank.
"Well, thatwasa bear's den, after all! We didn't go far wrong, did we? And as for me, I'm itching to investigate it right away. Frank, let's get a few torches together and crawl in. Will you?"
Jerry was as eager as ever to examine things. He could not wait until morning came, now that a bear had actually issued forth from the crevice in the rocks.
"There may be another in there," suggested Bluff meaningly.
"All right, then. Something is due to fall to my gun, I guess. Don't you think for a minute that everything is going to come your way. Better save your wind for blowing up your bed a little later. You'll probably need it all," remarked Jerry, who had been sore ever since the preceding night, when his rival had come in just a trifle ahead in the great wind act.
Frank hesitated. He knew it was hardly wise to creep into that crack in the rocks so soon after the bear had issued forth; for if there was a mate inside, doubtless they would have a severe conflict.
At the same time he knew Jerry full well, and was certain that once he had taken the notion into his head he would carry it out, if he had to go alone.
So he quickly made up his mind to go.
"All right, if you are bent on it; get the torches ready. I imagine, though, it is only a little cave, after all, and we will be back in a jiffy," he said, as he pushed new shells into his gun and fastened his belt around his waist, so that in case of necessity he would have a further supply.
Meanwhile, Will was rebuilding the fire. Bluff, aided by Jed, had succeeded in pulling the dead bear further away, all the while muttering delighted phrases at the great luck that had come his way so unexpectedly. He would never be able to sleep that night for wanting to feast his eyes on the big black bulk that represented such speedy work with his repeating gun.
"All ready, pard," said Jerry just then.
He had several pieces of good burning wood under his arm, and carried one that he had lighted at the fire, in his hand. With his other hand he clasped his gun, ready for business.
"Here, let me carry the torches, Jerry. If a chance comes, you ought to be prepared for it," said Frank as they reached the opening.
That was his usual generous way, always wanting every one to get his share of the fun and glory.
They found that the cleft was really wider than any of them had suspected up to now. Moreover, it showed plain evidences of having been used by some wild animal for a long time, as there was a regular trail running into it.
"Looks good to me," declared Jerry, who dearly loved to be prowling about just such a place as this, with the odor of a wild animal's den greeting his nostrils as they pushed slowly into the hole in the rocks.
Frank thought he had known spots more pleasant, but then he was game for anything in this line, so they pushed on, following the turns in the crack until finally Jerry, who was in advance, stopped.
"I see something ahead there. Thought it moved a little. Raise the light, please."
"You're not going to shoot, I hope!" exclaimed Frank, who knew that such a move would be the extreme of foolishness, since at the best Jerry could only expect to wound, and a bear in that condition was to be dreaded.
"Certainly not, unless I can see the rascal decently. Now let's advance slowly. Can you see anything yet?" asked the other.
"Only a dark spot. I hardly think it's a bear, for by now we would have heard growls of some sort," Frank replied.
"Cubs, perhaps; this is the time of year for them."
"Yes, but that was not a mother bear Bluff shot, you see, and the father would hardly be in here with the cubs. I never heard of such a thing. No. You see, just as I said, it's only a lot of stuff where the old chap had his bed. The smoke made him mad, it seems. Must have had a previous experience in getting smoked out, and simply couldn't stand for it."
"And the cave ends here, that is, the part of it big enough for our passage. So, after a look around, perhaps we'd better go back. To tell the truth, I thought I heard one of the boys shouting just then," said Jerry, whose ears were unusually keen.
"Probably Bluff, just working off a little more of his enthusiasm. This has been a big night for him, Jerry. And that gun—well, it won't do for you to poke fun at it any more, you understand."
They investigated to see what the draught of air meant, and concluded that the crevice might have another opening further on, though it was out of their reach, by reason of the smallness of the passage.
"Back to the camp it is, then. No more bears to-night, I reckon," sighed Jerry, visibly disappointed because he was not to be permitted to share in the honors that had fallen to Bluff.
So they began to make their way back to the exit.
Frank pushed on with increased speed, for it seemed to him that he, too, had heard some sort of sounds outside that might bear investigation. Could the farmer and his man have returned during their absence, and, cowing the two guardians of the camp, carried the bound boy off to his servitude again?
The thought annoyed him more than he could say, and it was in that frame of mind that he and Jerry emerged from the cleft. They found an apparently deserted camp, with not one of the three in sight.
"Hello, there, Bluff! Will! Where are you?" cried Frank in dismay.
Then a head was cautiously poked up from behind a log—the head of Will.
"Say! Is it gone?" asked this individual in thrilling tones.
"What gone—the bear?" demanded Frank, looking at the dark mass near by.
"No; the ghost! It was here just now, and poor Bluff fell over in a heap when he jumped up to get his gun. Oh! it was terrible! terrible!" groaned Will, as he came crawling cautiously forth, and looking half frightened to death.
Frank and Jerry gazed at each other in utter consternation.
"Tell me about that, will you? The ghost walked, and while we were away visiting, too! Was there ever such beastly luck?" groaned the latter, in dejection.
"But what's this about Bluff? You say he fell over. Was he struck with anything? And where's Jed?" asked Frank, eager to reach a conclusion.
"I'm here, all right," said a voice, and the bound boy came crawling out of a dense thicket close by. He was shivering, and his face looked white and drawn, as with fear.
"Bluff fell right over there by the bear, Frank. See! There he is now, getting up again. Thank goodness! He isn't dead, anyway!" cried Will.
Frank sprang to the side of Bluff.
"What ails you, old fellow? Are you badly hurt?" he asked.
"I don't just know. Seemed as if the sky fell on me; but I reckon I must have banged my head against this tree here in my excitement. I never noticed the pesky tree, I declare. All I could see was that terrible thing standing there and waving its awful bony hand. Gee! I was scared! I admit it, boys. Never got such a shock in my whole life," said Bluff, rubbing his forehead, where quite a large lump told of contact with some hard substance.
"Do you really mean to say that the ghost appeared to both of you while we were away?" asked Frank, hardly able to believe his ears, and looking to see if the others could be putting up some joke on Jerry and himself; but that lump was genuine, all right, and the look of pain on Bluff's face meant sincerity.
"Sure he was here. He kept waving us away all the time," declared Will.
"Evidently, then, from what you say, he does not like campers on his preserves, and would warn us to go home. H'm! That is something to be considered when trying to understand this riddle. Did the ghost speak at all?"
Bluff looked inquiringly at Will.
"If it did, I didn't hear it. I just gave a yell as I saw Bluff keel over, and rolled back behind this log, where I cowered till I heard Frank call. Oh! what a chance I lost to snapshot a real, genuine ghost!" And Will shook his head with disgust over his timidity.
"I wish you had done it; then we'd have something tangible to work on. As it is, we hardly know where we stand. The evidence of a frightened person is hardly enough to prove anything," mused Frank.
"Look here! Can either of you describe the ghost?" demanded Jerry.
Again Will and Bluff exchanged mournful glances.
"Not so you could understand it, I guess, boys. All I know is that he seemed ten feet high to me, and was all in white, that seemed to flicker, just like you see phosphorus in the dark," said the former.
Frank laughed.
"Exactly. I knew you would say that before you spoke. It is always the accompaniment of modern ghosts. In fact, you'd think these visitors from another world had to come out of a volcano in order to get here, and the sulphur and phosphorus-match smell hung to their garments. How did this wonderful thing vanish?"
Bluff shook his head.
"I wasn't in the running after that tree kicked me. Perhaps either of these others could say," he admitted candidly, still rubbing his bump, which Frank was getting arnica to relieve.
"Why, so far as I know, it justwent, that's all. Now you see it, and now you don't. But it was a sure-enough ghost, Frank. I could prove it if I hadn't fallen over that log before I thought of my camera," avowed Will.
"What strange things we see when we haven't got our gun," jeered Jerry, who did not seem to fully believe the story of the others.
"You appear to doubt their words," said Frank, turning on his chum questioningly.
"Oh, I don't think they're faking. That pigeon egg on Bluff's noble brow proves that he was scared nigh to death, and banged into a tree for keeps; but I don't believe in ghosts. They saw something—yes, but I've got a little suspicion that somebody's putting up a fine old joke on the crowd."
"Somebody, eh? Perhaps you'll go further, and state which way those aroused suspicions of yours slant?" demanded the injured Bluff, as he bent his head so that Frank could fasten a handkerchief, saturated with arnica, about his brow.
"Well, didn't we receive plain warning, not an hour ago, that there were fellows hovering around these regions bent on playing some sort of practical joke on us? How about that Pet Peters crowd, eh?" said Jerry firmly.
"Frank, do you believe that possible?" asked Will.
The one addressed looked serious.
"To tell the truth, I can't take much stock in it," he admitted finally.
"And why?" demanded Jerry aggressively.
Bluff was romping off with all the honors, and Jerry begrudged him the chance. He had won the contest the first night; the bear had fallen to his gun just recently, in conjunction with Frank, of course; and now he had been favored with the first sight of the wonderful ghost of Oak Ridge, the presence of which had stirred the entire community around Centerville.
Why, really, Jerry even envied his rival the possession of that lump on his forehead, since it was a mark to signify that he had been in the brunt of battle.
"Well, according to what the boys tell, this thing that has appeared to them was too astonishing to be the work of those crude plotters. Pet and his cronies can hatch up mean games, like throwing rocks into a camp, digging a pit to catch a fellow as though he were wild game, and such pranks, but they could never think up or carry out a big thing like this. If it is a game, depend on it, the one responsible for the deception is a smarter man than any of our old enemies."
"A game! Do you think that ghost wasn't real?" asked Bluff.
"Of course I do. Why, if I believed in such supernatural appearances, do you imagine for a minute I'd come up here hunting experiences? No, sir! I'd stay safe at home. Surely there must be some sort of reason for this party to play at ghost. I'm trying to put things together. Why should any one want to make people keep away from Oak Ridge?"
The others began to comprehend what Frank had in mind.
"I believe you're getting close on to its track, Frank," said Jerry confidently.
"Perhaps, after all, we couldn't have seen very well," admitted Will, grinning as boys do when they feel that they have done a foolish thing.
"The only thing I can swear to is that it hurt," vowed Bluff.
"Well, we don't intend to go away to please Mr. Ghost. Perhaps then he may pay us another visit," laughed Frank, tying the bandage securely.
"Hey! Leave me the sight of one eye, anyway, or I'll be doing it some more, and have lumps all over my poor cranium. That's better, Frank. I only wish I had got my gun—that's what," pursued the injured member of the group.
"Well, I advised you before not to use it on the ghost. If it proves to be a man, how badly you'd feel if you had shot a harmless lunatic," observed Frank.
"I guess that's so," muttered the other, shrugging his shoulders.
"Things seem to be happening to us mighty fast this time," observed Will.
"I should remark to that effect. Here we have only been away from home parts of two days and nights, and see how many strange things have come about. The raid of the camp by the Peters crowd, the finding of Jed, the coming of the farmer, and our bold defiance, the rush of old Bruin out of his cave into our fire, and now the appearance of the ghost on the scene," declared Jerry.
"You forgot one little event—the passing of Andy Lasher," put in Frank.
"Well, I didn't think that amounted to anything worth mentioning."
"You can never tell. When the story has all been told some of the things that at the time appeared very insignificant may loom up as big as mountains. But it does look as if we were bound to keep things hustling so long as we stay up here in the Sunset Mountains," remarked Frank.
Jerry was working at a long piece of rope.
"Just let that fine, healthy spirit from the other side of the Styx show up while I'm around, that's all," he said resolutely.
"What are you making?" asked Bluff.
"Why, that cowboy who was in town last year taught me something about throwing a rope, and I'm going to keep ready for Mr. Ghost," he avowed.
"Oh! If I could only get you in the act of lassoing him, what wouldn't I give for the chance of a picture!" sighed Will enthusiastically.
"I see very plainly that if you keep along with us much longer there'll be the greatest lot of freak pictures ever seen on the market. It makes me shudder to think what rowdy things my parents will see me doing," came from Jerry.
"It'll be a long time before I get the equal of that one where you are chasing around the tree with those wild dogs in pursuit. A fellow never could have kinder chums than I have—so willing to pose to please me. But it's really worth while," said Will.
All of them were tired by this time, and soon preparations began, looking to a night of rest. The rubber mattresses were blown up again, and this time Jerry proved an easy winner. Bluff, of course, declared that his swollen forehead was the cause of his defeat, and immediately challenged the winner to another match on the very next night.
And while the rest slept, Frank took the first watch, wondering whether that remarkable ghost would condescend to pay him a visit.
"Wake up there, lazybones!"
Frank opened his eyes. The sun was actually shining in through the front of his tent, much to his mortification and surprise.
"That's about the first time I've ever been caught napping," he remarked to Will, who was now ding-donging a big spoon on the bottom of a frying-pan, to indicate that breakfast was ready.
Frank had been up the greater part of the night, on guard. He had assumed most of the care of the camp himself, only dropping down when the hour was getting on toward dawn.
The others, knowing this, had been careful not to arouse him, but had gone on with the duties of the morning.
"It's good of you, boys, to let me sleep so long. I guess I must have needed it, too. Count me in before you've been at it five minutes," and so saying he slipped through the woods to a little brook near by, where they could hear him splashing about at a great rate.
When breakfast was done they began to consider what the duties of the day were to be. They had come up here into the mountains not to hunt, for the close season was on all edible game, but to knock around and have a good time generally. Incidentally, of course, they expected to look into that ghost story, and endeavor to learn just how much truth lay back of it.
Already considerable progress had been made, Frank thought.
He had prodded the boys who were in the camp at the time the specter showed up, and upon putting their stories together, came to the conclusion that the ghost must have appeared on the east side of the place.
Hither Frank hied himself immediately after he had finished eating. Dropping down on his hands and knees, he commenced to examine the ground with all the care of a red trailer of the plains and forest.
"Find anything?" asked Jerry, joining him.
Neither of the other chums would even so much as look. They had had an experience, and were quite content to let it rest at that. The absentees might take it into their heads to continue the treatment, if they wished. Perhaps they might not feel quite so ambitious after one chance to look at that grim white figure.
"Nothing to boast of. You see the ground is rather hard here, and a man might stand all around without making much of an impression. Still, it seems to me as if that might be the imprint of a shoe, and this, too."
He pointed as he spoke, and Jerry bent lower to look.
"I think you're right. Somebody stepped there, that's sure. Whether last night, or a week of Sundays ago, I wouldn't care to say," he admitted.
"Well, you ought to be able to place it better than that, for if you stop to think, you must remember that it rained just three days back."
"Correct! And that would have washed the footprint out completely, eh? But if we only had a hound here, used to following a human trail, wouldn't it be the easy thing to run down Mr. Ghost?" chuckled Jerry.
"It certainly would; but we happen to have nothing of the kind. I know of a couple of dogs able to do it. Colonel Halpin brought them up from the South. Don't you remember early last spring they were borrowed by the wardens of the penitentiary to track an escaped convict? They got him, too," remarked Frank.
"Yes, one of them; the other got clean away. I heard he walked in water, and in that way broke the trail."
"Well, the fellow who told me said the convict had some red pepper along with him. When he found the dogs were on his track he scattered this around. The poor beasts almost choked to death, and were not fit to scent a thing for days. That was a clever rascal, all right," said Frank.
"I declare I'm almost tempted to say he deserved to get away; but if we can't follow the tracks of Mr. Ghost I suppose we'll have to just wait until he chooses to pay us another visit, eh, Frank?"
"That's the only remedy; and if what I suspect is true, I imagine we'll be apt to see something of him again soon. We're not wanted in this region, and he means to let us know it frequently."
"Do you think it can be a crazy man's freak?" queried Jerry.
"Honestly, I don't. There is a motive back of this thing, but I'll be frank with you, and say that as yet I don't catch it. Perhaps the idea may flash in on me at any time. I have several suspicions, but nothing to prove that they can hold water."
Presently, therefore, the two searchers wandered back to where Will and Bluff sat talking with the fugitive bound boy.
Bluff looked up at them with a grin.
"S'pose you've got it all fixed now, and can tell us the name and antecedents of our ghost? It's mighty kind of you to go to all that trouble," he gurgled.
Neither of the others answered, for, indeed, what could they say?
"If you want to save that bearskin, I'll show you how to take it off, Bluff," remarked Frank later on.
"Well, now, I would, the worst kind. Even if some of the hairs do come out it will make a dandy rug. When you're ready, tell me what to do," replied the other.
So they busied themselves in that way. Will was developing his first roll of films in the tank, which could be used as well in daylight as at night, or in a dark-room. Jerry wandered off, with his gun over his arm, not looking for game, but with the intention of protecting himself against any possible danger. As for Jed, filled to repletion, he seemed quite a different boy from the fear-haunted chap of the previous night.
Jerry was a curious boy, always seeking to learn the why and wherefore of everything that happened. He did not believe in the ghost stories, and only wished he could run across something to prove the fact.
It was with this faint hope springing up in his heart that he sauntered out of the camp and into the great forest that stretched far away toward the lake, on the borders of which Centerville and Newtonport lay.
Looking back of him, he could see the Sunset Mountains very near, the sides covered with the same dense forest growth.
"Let's see, what have I got to look out for?" he was saying to himself, as he upraised a finger with each count: "The ghost, for one; those Apaches of Pet Peters, for two; that fine, hearty old gentleman, Farmer Dobson, for three. Well, a fellow would need to have three pairs of eyes to keep watch of all those perils at once. Perhaps there is another bear near by, the mate of the one Frank and Bluff knocked over. Well, I'm willing, if she only shows up."
So he was talking to himself as he wandered on. He did not mean to go very far away from the camp, at the time he started, but somehow it was so easy to just keep walking on. The day was fine, and he felt like taking exercise.
Jerry did not forget to keep his eyes about him all the while. It would not be pleasant to have those hovering plagues, the boys from town, drop down on his head from some tree, and he did not hanker after the experience.
Somehow his thoughts ranged back to Jed. Jerry was very much interested in the fortunes of the little bound boy, and had determined that his father, as well as the lawyer parent of Bluff, should do something to relieve him from his distress.
"I wonder what there is about that little gold locket that makes old Dobson want to get it in his possession so much? It must be proof of something; and surely there must be money in it for the possessor, if one only knew how to go about it. That's what we don't know, and Dobson does. But Frank will think it out. Nothing gets past him for long, now."
Frank was far from guessing the secret, as yet, for just at that very particular minute he sat in camp looking slyly at the very locket Jerry referred to, and trying to figure out how such a thing as Jed's mother's picture could be valuable to her cousin, the old skinflint farmer.
Jerry, having gone as far as he dared, was now beginning to hedge; that is, he had turned to the left, showing that he meant to return to the camp, but by a different route from the one already taken.
Since in another day or so they meant to change their camping-ground, and pass on to the shores of Surprise Lake, among the mountains, he thought he might as well see as much of this territory as possible.
Although he had taken his gun along, Jerry really did not believe he would see anything of a character to make him glad he had carried it. Still, if those followers of Pet Peters were hovering around they would fight shy of him on seeing that he carried a weapon.
He changed the tenor of his thoughts to Andy, and began to wonder what it could have been that brought him up into that lonely country, where there were no farms.
He was aroused from his reflections by a sound that startled him. This was undoubtedly the bellow of a bull, if Jerry knew what that was, and he believed he did. Looking up, he saw something that startled him.
Down the "tote" road, which he happened to be following, something was rushing toward him with lowered head, stopping occasionally to shake his horns and give a renewed bellow as of rage.
What he had heard Farmer Dobson say on the preceding night flashed through his mind, and Jerry knew that he was now looking upon the missing prize bull. He could not remember of having lost any bull himself, but the animal was heading his way, and evidently meant to make his immediate acquaintance.
This was a species of game that Jerry was not looking for that morning, thank you.
Perhaps bulls were not mentioned as being included in the closed season, but they had a value attached to them, and he was not in the humor to give Farmer Dobson any sort of club to hold over his head.
Jerry did not like the idea of taking to a tree, either. Flight, then, would seem to be his only course.
To leave the "tote" road and dash wildly through the forest was his plan, as he saw the bull coming so hurriedly in his direction.
Before he could even start toward putting this idea into play another actor had appeared on the scene.
Jerry saw a figure rushing through the scrub with the evident idea of intercepting the oncoming bull. He immediately recognized the flaming red bandana which he had noticed around the thick neck of the farmer on the occasion of his visit to the camp.
Then Jerry grinned, nor did he make the first move toward leaving. Stepping to one side, he screened himself behind a friendly tree and waited.
"There's his bull, all right. Now let's see how he leads him home by the ring in his nose. It will show me how," was what he was saying as he peeped around the base of his ambush.
The bull still came on. Somehow he seemed to take a new lease of life at sight of Farmer Dobson. It may have been caused by the flaming handkerchief just below the red face of the tiller of the soil. Then again, possibly, a list of indignities suffered in the past at the hands of this same owner occurred to the bull.
Jerry saw the man flaunt his arms wildly in the air. He was shouting loudly, too, and perhaps in the past the sound of his hoarse voice had cowed the bull.
"But the bully old chap doesn't seem to care a snap now for all his ranting—not so you could notice!" exclaimed the observer, in delight.
This fact finally became apparent to the farmer. By that time the animal was within twenty feet of him, and still advancing. Indeed, no one could blame Dobson for turning and running. The appearance of that big beast, with lowered head, and tail standing out stiff in the rear, during his charge, was enough to send terror to the heart of even a braver man than Farmer Dobson.
"Three to one on the bull!" exclaimed Jerry, unmindful of the fact that the chase was heading toward him.
Fast though the bulky farmer ran, the bull overhauled him in speedy order. Jerry fairly held his breath as the collision occurred, and gripped his gun as though half tempted to shoot.
Then it was all over but the shouting. The watching boy saw something bulky ascending gracefully into the air; nor was he in the least doubt as to what this figure with the sprawling arms and legs must be.
Farmer Dobson was getting a rise in the world. He crashed through the lower branches of an oak, and stuck there.
"Wow!" exclaimed Jerry, breathing again. "He's straddling a limb! What luck!"
He was tempted to let out a tremendous yell, so charged had he become with excitement, but he caught himself just in the nick of time.
"Ginger! That would turn the attention of good old Bowser from Dobson to me. A perch in a tree doesn't tempt me just now. Wonder what is going to happen next?" was what Jerry kept saying to himself.
He soon knew.
The bull was pawing the ground angrily and bellowing at the foot of the tree, now and then casting a look upward. Evidently he could not understand why the ripe plum did not fall down again so that he could practice some more.
The farmer by this time had recovered his wind to some extent. His heavy voice could be heard shouting at the animal, as though in that way he could send him about his business.
"The bull doesn't seem to care whether school keeps or not. He's got his man up a tree, and I expect he means to keep him there. What's that Dobson is saying? Can he have seen me?"
"Hey, you fellers! Come here and chase this beast away! A dollar apiece if ye coax him off, d'ye hear?"
Jerry realized that from his elevated perch Dobson must have sighted some others near by. Possibly they were lumbermen, looking over this section for some purpose.
"Cracky! I'd like to see 'em coax! Perhaps the circus ain't over yet," chuckled Jerry, with all a boy's love for fun.
Shouts were heard in the near distance. Jerry pricked up his ears at catching the boyish inflection of these outcries.
"Those fellows are Pet Peters and his crowd. Gee-whittaker! What luck for me, with this reserved seat at the show!" he laughed.
He heard the crash of the undergrowth as the newcomers advanced on the run. The promise of a big dollar apiece was an attractive lure to the Peters lot, and there was little they would not have attempted to earn so easily.
Each of them had armed himself with a stout stick of some sort. Some were long, and others short, but all promised to be serviceable in chasing away the domestic animal that had treed the farmer.
The bull paid no attention to the new arrivals until they were closing in on him from all sides.
"Say! I believe that old critter is playing 'possum. He doesn't want to scare the Peters crowd till he gets 'em in close. Now look what's going to happen! Whoop!"
The bull had suddenly whirled around, and made a bee-line for the nearest of the circle. That worthy happened to be Pet himself. His courage oozed out at sight of that terrible beast bearing swiftly down upon him.
Throwing away his stick he started to run, but the bull was too close upon him.
"Up he goes!" shouted Jerry in admiration, as he saw the figure of Pet whirling into the branches of another tree, where he clung desperately, half frightened to death.
This time the bull did not wait to strike the ground with his hoofs, and bellow. He seemed to know that there was plenty more excitement close by, if only he looked for it.
"Run!" shrieked Jerry, as the animal caught sight of a second chap trying to scuttle off.
Every boy was by this time rattled. They no longer had any thought of hostile action toward the old hero of many a battle. Those little black horns, each surmounted with a shining brass ball, sent a spasm of terror to their hearts, and not the promise of five dollars apiece would tempt them to linger.
But the bull was not satisfied with the scattering of his enemies. He yearned for more exercise, apparently, for he started to chase, first this fleeing boy, and then, turning aside, galloped after another, until he had the entire bunch panic-stricken, most of them howling in an excess of fear.
Jerry just lay down on the ground and shook with laughter. He could not remember when such a feast had come his way.
At the same time he was wise enough to do nothing to attract the attention of the bull. Let the animal return to his two treed prisoners, if he wished, and keep them straddling those limbs a few hours. The experience would do them good, perhaps.
Having chased the aggressors away, the bull now came trotting back to the scene of his victory. It was simply ludicrous to see the manner in which he passed from one tree to the other, bellowing, and shaking that big head of his as if daring the human birds to come down.
"Hey, there, Mister Dobson! Ain't yuh goin' to get that bull away? I don't want to sit up here all day an' night. It's yer business to drop down an' coax him to go home!" shouted Pet.
What the farmer said made Jerry shake all over with amusement; but while it seemed to act as a safety-valve to his feelings, perhaps it would not look well in print, being a series of vigorous exclamations.
"Say, I'll hold ye for damages, Farmer Dobson!" Pet wailed, trying to rub himself in half a dozen places at once.
"Go to grass! I ain't doing nothing; just sitting here! Hold the bull for damages, if ye want to," answered the other, who had a few pet bruises of his own that needed attention, and which kept him from feeling humorous over the situation.
"How we a-goin' to get down?" next asked Pet.
"The critter'll get tired after a while, and wander off. All ye have to do is to sit still, and try not to excite him any more. I'll give ye the dollar all the same, boy, 'cause I seen ye earn it; but them other fellers run off, an' they don't get a cent."
"What do I get for sticking the whole performance out?" called Jerry just then, at the same time taking care not to show himself to the bull.
The farmer and Pet looked in vain to see the speaker.
"It's that Jerry Wallington. I seen him when we was runnin' up. Say, Farmer, ain't there any way to sick the measly old bull on him?" called Pet.
"You'll have to excuse me, gentlemen, but I've got a previous engagement. Good-by!" Saying which, Jerry slid off, keeping the tree between himself and the animal until he thought it safe to stand erect.
"Make him tell what happened."
"It's either that, or a douse in the creek for Jerry!"
"Hold on, fellows! Don't get rough, now! Sit down here and listen, only pick a place where you can roll over with laughing, for it's sure the funniest ever."
Then Jerry told them what he had seen that morning. He had kept the recital until evening, wishing to make merry around the campfire. Of course, the others knew he had seen something humorous, since he could not keep from chuckling every little while; but all their hints and entreaties had not availed to draw him out until he was good and ready.
Jerry was not disappointed with regard to seeing them laugh. Even little Jed had to join in the merriment, for he could picture the rage of his old tormentor, Farmer Dobson, as he straddled that limb and looked down at the triumphant bull.
"That happened hours ago, you say?" asked Frank finally.
"Why, it was this morning, when I was out walking for my health," replied Jerry.
"Phew!" said the other, with a whistle. "What if they're still lodged up in those trees, boys?"
No one looked particularly sorry. Indeed, Bluff even laughed again.
"In that case, they must be feeling pretty stiff by now," he remarked carelessly.
"But I hardly believe the bull would stay this long at his post. The farmer knew that when he told Pet to just keep still and wait. When the beast grew hungry he would be apt to wander away in search of grass, or perhaps go for a drink. Oh, I guess they got down all right," observed Frank.
"All good things come to an end, they say. Those fellows couldn't expect to keep up at the top all the time. But I'd like to have seen it, Jerry," said Bluff.
"Think of me, the most unlucky of fellows! Another royal chance gone glimmering! My rapid-action lens would have caught both of those high-vaulters while they were in the air. Oh! what a loss to our scrapbook! Jerry, if you would only get a little pocket camera, what glorious things you'd capture!" sighed Will.
"Excuse me, if you please. One crank in the crowd is quite enough. Frank, is it our last night in this camp?" asked the other.
"If our plans go right, it should be. Adolphus will start in the morning, and I agreed to meet him at a certain point. We can pack up after breakfast, and trail off into the mountains, taking our time," replied the leader of the outfit.
"Let's have a squint at that map again, please," observed Bluff.
The evening passed as usual. Each seemed to be busy after his fashion. Even Jed had assumed charge of the fire, and kept up a cheery blaze, while he had a heap of wood close by, ready for use during the night.
In due time the boys began to show signs of sleepiness—yawning and stretching, after the manner of those who need rest.
"Who takes the first watch to-night?" asked Frank.
"I've spoken for that. You see, I hate to be waked up, once I get to sleep. It sort of keeps me aroused, and I get to thinking of all my troubles," said Will.
"Poor chap! Too bad you have such a load to carry; but then you must expect a few good chances to slip past your machine. As it is, I think you're doing famously, and that we'll have many a hearty laugh over the results."
"Thank you, Frank. It's sure a pleasure to know that one of my chums appreciates my humble efforts to satisfy the community, and lay up ammunition for many a dull winter evening. Go to bed, fellows. I'mit."
With Frank's gun in his possession, Will took up a position where he could observe things without being too conspicuous himself.
"Talk to me about that, will you?" muttered Jerry, as he watched this action on the part of his chum. "And notice how particular he is to sit where he can keep an eye on that black hole in the rocks. Don't worry, Will. We looked it over good and hard, and my word for it, there isn't another bear inside, big or little."
"Oh, I'm not bothering about that. I only thought that perhaps the mate of the one that was shot might come home, and I did so want to get a snapshot of a wild beast going into its den, with the whole camp asleep," avowed Will bluntly.
"And if the ghost should appear again, make him stand for his picture—hear!"
"Don't you worry, Jerry. My watch only extends to midnight, and then Frank comes on deck, you see."
"Wise boy, to fix it so," jeered the other as he crawled inside his tent.
Presently the camp was wrapped in silence. The fire had been so arranged that it needed very little attention from time to time. Will sat there, with the gun on one side, and his camera, ready for action, on the other. It was a question as to which he would seize upon in case of a sudden emergency; but the chances favored the snapshot arrangement, for Will would rather secure a good picture than eat the best dinner ever cooked, or shoot a prize buck.
But nothing happened, just as he had prophesied. At midnight, as he had agreed, he crept over and aroused Frank. A touch on the arm was sufficient, for the Maine boy was a light sleeper.
"All right, Will. Coming," he said in a whisper, not wishing to awaken Jerry; but from the sound of his heavy breathing it would require a cannon to do that.
Frank assumed the position vacated by his chum, but he noticed that Will carried his camera, ready for instantaneous work, into the other tent with him. Like a good soldier, Will doubtless believed in sleeping on his arms, so as to be able to get to work at the call of duty.
Frank wondered whether anything would happen to bring about an alarm. He settled himself down to watch with the determination to use his eyes to some advantage if that ghost happened around again.
What he had heard only whetted his curiosity, and he wished greatly to see for himself. So as the minutes glided along he remained wide-awake, and waiting for he hardly knew what.
Perhaps those Peters fellows might come around, bent upon playing one of their miserable practical jokes. He rather suspected, however, that by this time they might have concluded that they had had enough, and were headed back to town.
Well, how about Farmer Dobson and his hired man? Suppose they had managed to get away from the sentinel bull, would they, too, go back home, or continue to haunt the vicinity, spurred on by the hope of capturing the bound boy?
Frank was inclined to believe that such might be the case. He knew that Dobson seemed worried because of those welts on Jed's back, and which, if seen just now by Bluff's lawyer father, might get him into trouble. Hence, he would be apt to try still further in order to kidnap the boy, who could then be kept secluded until all signs of his cruel treatment had passed away.
Frank had also made up his mind how he would act in case the vindictive tiller of the soil appeared in view, crawling into the camp. He even smiled a little at the prospect of holding him up a second time, and calling the others out to witness his humiliation.
Perhaps an hour had gone thus when he heard a slight sound.
"Something is moving over yonder, sure enough," he said in an undertone.
He sat perfectly still, his eyes fastened on the point where the rustling in the bushes had caught his attention.
Presently he could see the dim outline of a huge bulk.
"It's no animal, but a man or boy creeping up," he concluded, after watching this for another minute.
Then a head was cautiously raised. Frank felt glad that he had taken the pains to sit in the shadows, where he could not be easily seen. Higher arose the head.
"H'm! So it's the farmer, all right, bent on taking poor Jed home. He seems to be a very persistent old codger. Just wait, and I'll give him the scare of his life. Bulls won't be in it," muttered the watcher.
He moved his gun up inch by inch, so that he could discharge it at the proper time. Not that he had the slightest intention of doing Dobson the least bodily injury, beyond the fright that an unexpected shot would bring.
Back of the moving figure of the farmer he could see a second form.
"His man Friday. Well, I'll include him in the performance, too," thought Frank, who was always generous by nature.
Sometimes the best-laid plans go wrong. The farmer doubtless believed he could enter the camp in this brazen way, hunt around until he found Jed, and then force the poor lad to accompany him home.
Frank, on his part, expected presently to take part in the performance, and was even figuring on how high the farmer would jump when the flash of the gun came, accompanied with the crash of the discharge.
Both were counting without their host, for it seemed that there was still another element that meant to be taken into consideration.
Just as Frank had his finger pressing on the trigger, and felt sure that it was time for him to let go, there was an unearthly shriek from the direction of the rise to the right of the camp. Looking hastily that way, Frank saw a sight that instantly riveted his attention, and caused his nerveless finger to fall away from the trigger of his gun.
"The ghost walks! And just in time to get a large and select audience!" he exclaimed, as he saw a shining figure rear up in full view, glistening just as Will had said, with a phosphorescent glow, and one hand waving in a commanding manner, as though urging upon the trespassers the necessity of a quick departure.
Loud cries attested to the fact that Farmer Dobson and his hired man had received the shock of their lives.