“Wake up! wake up!”
Both Frank and Jerry shouted at the
top of their strong voices. The others came tumbling
into view, and loud were their expressions of dismay
at the terrible sight that met their eyes.
“Get busy here, every one!
Water wanted, and never mind your clothes!”
Even while he was speaking Frank jumped
into action. The night air struck home, and made
him shiver, for he had just tumbled out from between
the snug folds of his blanket; but this was a time
when delay might mean the complete wiping out of the
camp.
Will gave a whoop and immediately
vanished again inside the tent. He had not gone
to rescue any of his clothes, nor did he even think
of getting into them; but when he reappeared it was
with his camera hugged tightly in his arms.
Meanwhile the others had set to work
with a vim. There was fortunately no wind, so
that the fire had burned sluggishly. Then again
the late storm had wet the dead leaves then on the
ground, and they had not as yet become thoroughly
dry, so it took quite some time for them to get over
smouldering, and burst into a vigorous flame.
“We’re getting it down,
fellows; keep right along hitting it hard!”
called Frank, cheerily.
Even old Toby had appeared from under
the fly where he slept. He had been dreadfully
scared at first, doubtless under the impression that
the mate to the dead bob-cat had invaded the camp,
intent on revenge. This feeling soon gave way
to the desire to see the camp saved, and he labored
faithfully with the rest.
Scattering the smouldering leaves,
beating out the fire with any sort of thing they could
snatch up in their excitement, they managed to get
the flames under control after a little while.
It had been a most exciting experience,
however. Bluff was swinging his blanket vigorously,
and thrashing the fire with it effectively; though
he might later on have some difficulty in getting
rid of the smudges that this process necessarily produced.
“Victory!” shouted Jerry,
when the last vestige of the fire had gone under.
Bluff threw his blanket around his
shoulders and strutted about with the air of a conqueror;
“They have to get up early in
the morning if they expect to beat us,’’
he said, proudly.
“Talk about your hot times,
that was a scorcher!” cried Jerry.
“But I’m beginning to
shiver now all right; and I advise every one to crawl
into his clothes in a hurry. Then we can talk
it over. It’s a mighty suspicious thing,
that’s what,” remarked Frank.
They were only too glad to take his
advice, and shortly after the four gathered around
the revived campfire to exchange opinions.
They were a pretty smutty-looking
crowd; but Jerry declared that those marks were medals
of honor.
“Now, if we had all been like
Will here, and each rushed for his possessions, the
camp would have been a-goner,” he remarked, with
a reproachful look.
“That’s all right, fellows,
and under any other conditions I would have been one
of the first to assist; but I’m the official
photographer of the expedition, and the guardian of
those splendid films that must perpetuate our camping
trip, for posterity,” he explained.
“Hear! hear!” cried Frank.
“Why didn’t you lay the
outfit down at a safe distance then, and help fight
the fire with us?” demanded Bluff.
“I guess I know enough to take
warning from your sad experience. They hooked
your old gun; the next thing they’ll be after
will be my camera. No, sir, I hang on to that
business through thick and thin. They’ll
have to chloroform me to get my films away, and that’s
so.”
“Was it an accident?”
asked Bluff, looking to Frank for an opinion.
“What do you think, Jerry?” demanded the
leader.
“It couldn’t have been
an accident, and I’m dead sure of it,”
was the reply.
“Suppose you state your reasons then.”
“First, we banked the fire down
as usual before crawling into bed. Then there
wasn’t a particle of wind to scatter the sparks.
And last, but not least, those heaps of dead leaves
were carried here! I happen to know that place
was just about bare last evening!” replied the
other, seriously.
Will uttered an exclamation of wonder and alarm.
“Do you really mean to say that
some fellows would be mean enough to try and burn
our camp?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t put it past
that Andy Lasher. Talk to me about your heathen!
he’s just about equal to any of ’em.
But don’t you agree with me, Frank?”
“Certainly I do, because I happen
to have a strong bit of evidence which I picked up
out there close to the burning leaves.”
He held something up.
“A match-box!” exclaimed Will.
“Do any of you own that?”
“Pass it around. I never
saw it before,” declared Jerry, as he handled
the little silver article in which several matches
still remained.
“Well, I have, then,”
remarked Bluff, suddenly, as he stared at the trophy;
“and just as I thought, here are two initials
on it.”
“What are they?” asked Jerry, showing
excitement.
“H.B.”
“That doesn’t cover any
of Andy’s crowd, though,” said Jerry, seemingly
disappointed.
“The real owner of this match-box
is Herman Bancroft,” announced Bluff; “I’ve
had it in my hands more than once. You know I
went with him for a time.”
“He wanted to join our Rod,
Gun and Camera Club, but the black ball dished his
chances. Perhaps Herman was mad about that; perhaps
he even followed us up here, and has tried to get
even,” suggested Will.
“That’s hard to believe,
for he isn’t the bad fellow some people say.
A little wild, but with a good heart. I’d
rather believe he lost it, and one of that crowd picked
it up,” said Bluff, sturdily.
“That’s just like you,
Bluff, standing up for a friend. Well, I’m
rather inclined to believe the same way. Anyhow,
it was a mighty mean dodge. If that Andy Lasher
keeps on he’ll get in a peck of trouble sooner
or later. Why, for such a thing as this he deserves
a peppering of shot at a distance,” said Frank,
indignantly.
“It was criminal, that’s
what. We might have been smothered in our beds,”
remarked Bluff.
“Or my camera might have been
utterly destroyed,” wailed Will.
Old Toby said nothing, but he cast
many an anxious look around at the adjacent trees,
as if he had an idea lingering under his woolly pate
that in some way or other this new disaster might
have a connection with the shooting of the wildcat.
Things assumed a normal aspect after
a while, and only for the scent of burnt leaves no
one would dream that the camp had come near destruction.
But all the inmates of Kamp Kill Kare
slept, so to speak, “with one eye open”
during the balance of that night.
There was no further alarm.
By the time breakfast had been disposed
of they could look the matter calmly in the face,
and it no longer appeared in such a terrible aspect
as when they were scampering around in their pajamas
fighting the flames and smoke.
The sun seemed unusually warm this
morning, so Will declared that he meant to tramp over
to the lake and try a little fishing, since they would
have small opportunity to do any of this when the cold
winds came again.
“I’m on too,” remarked
Bluff, moodily; “a fellow without a gun is like
a fifth wheel to a wagon, useless in camp. Let’s
make up some lunch, for it’s a long tramp, and
we won’t come home until late.”
Jerry announced that he wanted to
go over and have a further talk with Jesse Wilcox;
after which he might take a tramp in a new region
advised by the old trapper as opening a possible chance
for big game-perhaps a deer.
Frank declared he would stick to the
camp; with such vicious characters around, he secretly
thought it hardly safe for all of them to go away,
leaving old Toby as the sole guardian. They had
too much at stake, since their pleasure would be destroyed
if the camp were raided successfully.
Reaching the lake Will spent much
of his time taking views, while Bluff set to work
trying to entice the finny denizens of the water to
bite his lures.
As time went on he was fairly successful,
and when they ate their lunch he had quite a fair
string of fish as the reward of his diligence.
Will proved to be a poor fisherman
after all, especially when he had his adored camera
along, for he presently wandered off again.
“Don’t go too far,”
warned Bluff, as he sat on the end of a log that jutted
out over the water a yard or more.
Engrossed with his sport, Bluff hardly
noticed how time passed. Hearing a step back
of him, he called out:
“I got three more; what luck did you have, Will?”
He heard what sounded like a chuckling
laugh back of him; and before he could turn some one
gave him a strong push. Bluff went over with a
splash into the lake.