The Outdoor Chums - Captain Quincy Allen
If so, no wonder that he cried at the top of his voice for assistance.
Unable to escape he must starve to death, or become the prey of wild
beasts unless help came.
Jerry immediately crawled out of his hole. He no longer remembered the
fact that a bear had recently been sniffing at the entrance to the hollow
tree. All he had in mind was that he might be of assistance to a fellow
human being in distress.
It was pitch dark in the woods, though now and then a flash of distant
lightning came to momentarily relieve the gloom.
Jerry started in the direction he believed the sounds came from. Now and
then he paused to listen, and in this way managed to keep going straight.
"Hello! where are you?" he cried, finally, as a dreadful silence fell
upon the forest ahead, a silence that made him very anxious indeed.
Immediately a voice called out wildly:
"Oh, here I am, under this fallen tree! Please come and help me! I can't
hardly move, and I think my arm is broken. Don't leave me to die!"
"It's all right. Don't worry, for I'm not going to run away. Speak again
so I can get to you. It's awful dark under here."
The other took him at his word, and commenced to rattle on, saying all
manner of things, simply to direct his rescuer to the spot.
"It's Andy Lasher, as sure as I live," said Jerry to himself, as he
recognized the other's voice, despite the agony in it.
So making his way forward he finally came to the tree under which the
other was pinioned by some of the branches.
"I can't see you, it's so dark here. Wait!" he said aloud.
"Oh! please don't leave me now; I'll go out of my mind, sure!"
"I don't mean to; but I must have some light. Now, I happen to have the
stub of a candle in my pocket, and the wind has died out, so I think it
will burn if I stick it down low. I'll get you out somehow, Andy," said
Jerry, cheerily.
He struck a match.
"Why, is it you, Jerry?"
"Sure thing. See there, that burns all right, I guess. Now, I'll put it
here in the shelter of this stump, while I look into things."
"You won't leave me here, Jerry? You ain't that kind of a feller, I
know?"
Andy was evidently alarmed. He could not but remember that there had been
bad blood between this lad and himself for a long time. Indeed, some
recent events that were not at all to his credit, must have cropped up to
make him anxious.
"Not much. Say, you just had the escape of your life, I tell you. This
heavy limb almost hit you in falling. If it had, then it would have been
one, two three for you. You seem to be held down mostly by small
branches," observed Jerry, after he had made a critical examination.
"Do you think you can get me out, Jerry?" asked the other, very humbly.
"Easy. Just you wait, and when I tell you what to do, go ahead."
With that he started operations. By breaking off the smaller branches one
at a time, he gradually weakened the network that was binding the
prisoner. Every obstacle, however small, that was removed, made things
easier. And finally Jerry gave a pull at the imprisoned boy.
Andy let out a howl of pain, but all the same he came free.
"My arm!"
"I'm going to look at that now, right away. If it is broken the sooner
you get back to Centerville and see a doctor the better; but, somehow,
I've got a notion it's only badly bruised. Here, bend it back, so I can
slip it out of the sleeve."
With much misgiving and many exclamations of agony, Andy did as he was
told. The other then examined it from one end to the other.
"Talk to me about luck, you've got cause to be mighty thankful, Andy.
There are a lot of bruises here, but no bones broken," declared Jerry.
"Sure you ain't mistaken, Jerry--'cause it's awful sore?" groaned the
other, and yet there was a trace of gratitude in his voice.
"Make up your mind it's so. Now, the question is what are we going to do
the rest of the night? I was in a hollow tree, but there isn't room for
two. Might manage to make a fire somehow, and stand it out. Think you can
walk now, Andy?"
Jerry unconsciously thrust a supporting arm around the waist of the
other, and steadied his steps as they moved slowly off. In so doing he
was heaping coals of fire upon the head of his adversary. Andy grunted
now and then as some jolt gave him new pain; but on the whole he was very
quiet. Perhaps his mind was busy and his conscience working overtime.
So they reached the hollow stump.
"Here's where I was camped all through the storm, and mighty lucky for
you that I lost my way when out hunting. Now wait till I dig out some of
that dry wood from the inside. It will make a capital start for a fire."
Jerry set to work with a vim. In five minutes he had a cheery little
blaze going, and more wood drying out close beside it. From time to time
other fuel was added to the fire until it reached such proportions that
it eagerly devoured any sort of stuff they chose to feed it.
"This ain't half bad, because it's getting mighty cold after that storm,
and if you happened to be lying drenched through under that tree I
reckon you'd be shivering some by now, eh?" laughed Jerry.
Andy put out his right hand, for it was the left arm that had been
injured.
"I want to tell you that I feel pretty punk now over the way I've
treated your crowd, Jerry. This is mighty white in you, and that's what,
to act as you have with me. I'm right sorry now I ever laid out to hurt
you fellers. I ain't goin' to keep it up no longer, and that's dead
certain. If Pet Peters wants to, he can go it alone. I'm all in. You've
made me ashamed."
Jerry understood. There was really no need of further words. Between two
boys such things are instinctively grasped; and Jerry knew what a
tremendous effort it must have been for this rough fellow to frankly
admit that he had been led to see the error of his ways.
Perhaps the repentance was not wholly genuine, and time would swing Andy
back to his old ways; but just then, sitting by that friendly fire, he
seemed to feel very warmly disposed toward the lad whose coming may have
saved his life.
"Oh! that's all right; don't mention it. Glad to know you mean to let us
alone. It's all we ask, anyway. But what brought you away up here, Andy?"
said Jerry.
Andy dropped his head and gazed into the fire. The other even thought he
could see what looked like a blush mantle his cheeks, though the chums of
the town bully would have shouted at the very idea of such a thing.
"I reckon it was some more rotten business, Jerry. To tell the truth I
was up to see old Bud Rabig, trying to get him to join us in a raid on
your camp. You see," the boy went on hurriedly, as though fearful lest
his courage might fail him before he got the whole thing off his mind,
"we'd tried to smoke you out and made a botch of the trick; and I even
pushed Bluff over into the lake this afternoon, to get him a duckin',
'cause the temptation was too great But it's all up with me now. After
this I ain't goin' to lift a hand against any of your crowd."
"Did you get lost, too, trying to make your way back to your camp?"
asked Jerry.
"That's just what I did. Thought I could save time by taking a short-cut
through the big woods. Then the storm came down on me, and I reckon I got
some rattled. I lost my head, and while I thrashed around, that pesky old
tree came down on me. Thought I was a-goner, I give you my word," and
Andy shuddered.
"How long did you lie there?" questioned the other.
"Hours and hours, it seemed to me. I'd shout when I could, but something
seemed to tell me it wasn't no good--that I just deserved to die right
there, because I'd never been no good to my folks at home or anybody
else. But you just wait and see. I got a light, I did. Thought I was sure
goin' to die."
Both boys were soon sleepy, for the heat of the fire affected their eyes.
So Jerry fixed things to keep the blaze going while they napped, rolling
a log over so that it offered a good chance for the fire to feed.
In this way they passed the balance of the night, nor would either of
them soon forget the experience, though from different reasons.
In the morning they managed to cook some of the fresh venison Jerry
carried, and for which the other seemed very grateful. Then they figured
out their position, which was not hard to do, since the sky was clear and
the sun well up.
Half an hour later Andy recognized certain landmarks that told him he
could make a turn and reach his camp by the lake shore.
"Good-by, Jerry. I'm going to skip out here. And I ain't forgettin'
this either," he said, thrusting out a hand, while a queer grin crept
over his face.
Jerry hurried on, anxious to relieve the suspense of his chums.
As he came in sight of the camp he paused and stared, as well he might,
for it seemed to be occupied by a stranger, and he a man with the wild
aspect of a madman.
CHAPTER XVII
AFTER THE STORM
"Whoop! All hands on deck to pump ship!"
"My camera! Oh! where did I put it?"
"Grab up the bedding and hustle in under the other tent, boys!"
This last from steady, clear-headed Frank, who seemed to know just what
should be done in an emergency.
It started Bluff and Uncle Toby working strenuously to keep blankets from
getting very wet. But Will could not think of lending a hand until he had
first of all lugged his beloved camera under shelter.
It was indeed fortunate that both tents had not gone by the board at the
same time, or the camp must have been plunged into the deepest distress.
Led by Frank, they managed to hustle their belongings under the second
cover, where the driving rain could not reach them.
By the time all had been done the boys were dripping, and it took them
some twenty minutes to get warm again, snuggled in their blankets.
"Oh! what a night!" wailed Will a dozen times.
"Please let up on that, or give us a change in tune. It's bad enough
to have to stand the storm without listening to a phonograph,"
grunted Bluff.
The hours crept along. Now and then they dozed, but sound slumber did
not come to a single one of the group. Uncle Toby was quite content to
cower as close to Frank as possible, satisfied that the other was able
to protect him. He seemed to exhibit the blind confidence of a dog in
an emergency calling for energy; to him Frank was a type of manliness
hard to match.
"Will the morning ever come?" groaned Will, as he shifted his cramped
position for the tenth time at least.
"Well, I think we've got a lot to be thankful for," declared Frank,
stoutly; "in the first place, no great damage is done, for I saw that our
tent was caught in the branches of a tree close by, and we can rescue it
in the morning. Then nothing was spoiled that I know of. And the storm is
really over, though morning is some two hours off," striking a match and
looking at his nickel watch.
"Can't we have a fire?" asked Will, who was shivering under his blanket.
"Just thinking so myself. It's getting sharp, now that the wind
has shifted into the northwest. Suppose we make a try," answered
Frank, readily.
It was just in anticipation of such an emergency that he had hidden some
of the dry wood away where the rain could not reach it. Frank's previous
experience in woodcraft had taught him many valuable things.
Securing some of this, he quickly had a little blaze. The others fed this
in a cautious manner, so as not to smother it by too much fuel. As a
result the fire was in a short time burning freely, and diffusing a
genial warmth around that proved very acceptable to the chilled campers.
Even Will thawed out under its influence and ceased to grumble.
"It's all right, too, fellows; not a drop got in tinder these
waterproofs," he declared, as he eagerly examined his precious
possession.
So the morning found them.
The first thing they did was to rescue the runaway canvas. It was found
to be intact, the pins only having given under the strain. So shortly
afterwards the second tent again arose, and things began to look
shipshape around the camp.
"Seems like an Irish wash-day," remarked Will, as he surveyed the
various blankets and other things spread out on bushes to dry in the
sunshine and air.
"Only for Jerry's strange absence, I'd feel bully," remarked Frank.
"Don't you think we'd better start out and look for him?" asked Will.
"Yes, after we've had some breakfast. I never like to attempt anything on
an empty stomach. And, besides, you see, we may have to go all the way
over to Jesse's shack before we learn about him," observed Frank.
"Do you really think he's stayed there?" questioned Bluff, anxiously; for
even though he and Jerry seemed to be constantly bickering, deep down in
their hearts they had a genuine affection for each other, as had been
proven more than once.
"I hope so," was all the other would say.
"And I've got a dreadful fear," remarked Will, sighing, "that the poor
fellow's been caught under a falling tree. So many went down last night.
I'll hear that terrible crashing every time I wake up for a long time to
come. It haunts me, just because I imagined Jerry out in it all."
Toby here banged the big spoon on the empty frying pan. That was a
welcome sound to a set of ravenous boys, and they quickly assembled
around the rude table upon which the black _chef_ was placing heaps of
flapjacks, flanked by steaming cups of fragrant coffee.
Uncle Toby did not seem to relish being left alone in the camp again; but
there was nothing else to be done. Frank gave him some advice as to what
he should do if any wild beast invaded the place; and also how he could
threaten any of Andy's crowd should they show up with hostile intent.
Then the three boys started off, meaning to head in a direct line for the
distant camp of the old trapper.
"What if we don't find him there?" asked the skeptical Will.
"Wait till we get to the river before trying to cross. I reckon we'll be
apt to find some traces of him there. And even if he was caught out in
the woods in that storm, that's no sign he was hurt or killed. Jerry
knows enough to get in out of the wet; and depend on it he found shelter
somehow, somewhere."
So Frank buoyed their spirits up in his accustomed cheery way. One could
easily see that he belonged to the optimist family, and never looked on
the gloomy side of things.
They had not gone half a mile away from the camp before they discovered
some one moving through the bushes ahead.
"There he is!" exclaimed Bluff, eagerly, as he raised his hand to his
mouth, as if about to give a "cooie."
"Hold on! I don't believe it is. There, you see, it's a man, and a
hunter, too, I expect, for he's carrying a gun," interrupted Frank.
"Perhaps he may have seen Jerry. Shall we ask him?" demanded Will.
"If we keep on straight we're going to meet him, and, of course, we'll
ask. I only hope he has, though I doubt it. Do either of you know him?"
Frank asked this because he was comparatively a newcomer in Centerville,
while the other boys had been raised there.
"Seems to me I've seen him before," exclaimed Bluff. "Why, yes, it's Mr.
Smithson. He lives in Centerville--that is, his family does, because he
isn't home much. You see he's one of the wardens over at the State insane
asylum at Merrick."
"What?" cried Frank, startled; "then perhaps he may not be hunting wild
animals after all. Suppose one of the mad inmates of that institution
escaped, and is up here roaming through the woods?"
"Jewhittaker!" exclaimed Will, turning a trifle pale, and hugging
his camera closer to his breast, as though his first fear concerned
its safety.
"If that's so, I hope Jerry didn't run across him, that's all,"
remarked Bluff.
"Come on, hurry. You've given me a little shock now, and we must learn
the truth immediately. Call out to him, Bluff--there, he sees us, and is
coming this way."
As Frank said, the keeper was hurrying toward them now, an anxious look
on his face. He nodded to Bluff as he came up.
"Camping up here, are you, boys? That's fine. Used to like to do it
myself when I was younger. Say, you didn't happen to see anything of a
wild-looking chap anywhere around, did you?" he asked, glancing at
each in turn.
"Sorry to say we haven't, Mr. Smithson. Has one of your charges
got away?"
"That's just what has happened, and I've been chasing him all over the
country. Got track of him yesterday just before the beastly old storm hit
me. He's somewhere around this section right now. Where's your camp,
boys? He'll be pretty sharp set with hunger by now, and can scent grub a
long ways off?" continued the keeper.
The three lads looked at each other.
"What shall we do, fellows? Doesn't seem just right to be chasing off
this way in a bunch, and leaving that poor old innocent alone in camp.
What if this crazy man drops in on Toby while we're gone? Had we better
turn back, and later on, if Jerry doesn't show up, organize another
expedition, dividing our forces?"
Frank always put things so clearly that he seldom met with any
opposition.
"That strikes me as sensible," observed Will, quickly.
"Turn back it is, then. Will you go with us, Mr. Smithson? We can give
you a good cup of hot coffee, and some breakfast, if you're hungry?"
said Bluff.
"I accept your offer, boys, and glad to meet you. Now, lead the way,
please, because somehow, I seem to feel it in my bones that Bismarck will
gravitate toward some place where there is an odor of cookery in the air.
He always was a good feeder."
"Bismarck?" ejaculated Frank.
"Why, you see, that's what he thinks, and he carries out the part to a
dot. Wait till you run up against him, if luck turns that way," replied
the other.
"He may have been injured in the storm?" suggested Will.
"Not he. Such a cunning fellow would know how to escape a wet back."
"Is he considered dangerous?" Bluff inquired, a little anxiously.
"Well, not particularly, although he can look mighty fierce, and would
terrify a timid person, possibly."
"And I guess Uncle Toby fills that bill, all right," said Bluff; "but
there's our camp through the trees, Mr. Smithson; and, as sure as you
live, there's a stranger standing poking at the fire where our cook is
bending down."
"Bismarck is making himself at home, all right," laughed the warden.
CHAPTER XVIII
A STRANGE VISITOR IN CAMP
"What can we do about it?" asked Will, looking alarmed.
"It's up to Mr. Smithson," remarked Frank, in a low tone.
"Look here, boys, you understand that I want to capture the gentleman
very much indeed. Are you willing to give me a little assistance?" asked
the warden.
"Why, to be sure we will. It looks as though we might have some interest
in his capture, too, judging by the way old Toby is loading up our good
grub in those frying pans to suit his appetite. He threatens to eat us
out of house and home unless something desperate is done. We'll help
capture the escaped lunatic, eh, fellows?"
"Sure we will, Frank. Let Mr. Smithson tell us what to do, that's all,"
said Bluff, readily.
"Well, I hardly think he'll take the alarm at sight of any strangers, so
long as he doesn't get a glimpse of me. Now, if you three just saunter
easily into camp, and pretend to treat him in a friendly way, you'll find
he can be a fine gentleman. Humor his failing as much as you can, boys."
"And what else, sir?" asked Frank, who was listening intently.
"Meanwhile I'll be creeping closer all the while. After he has been
fed he may feel sleepy, because he must have been up all night. The
heat of the fire and a good feed will make his eyes heavy," continued
Mr. Smithson.
"I guess you're right, sir."
"Very good. Suppose you propose that he lie down by the fire and take a
nap. Rig him up a sort of military bed. He imagines that Bismarck is
with the old emperor, off in France on the war campaign. When he's fast
asleep I'll creep into camp and get him secure. It will be easy, boys,
believe me."
"Say, is he the only one loose?" asked Will, just then, his voice
showing alarm.
"Why, yes, so far as I know. Why do you ask?" demanded the warden.
"Because there's some one else crawling through the bushes over yonder."
"Are you sure?" asked Mr. Smithson.
"I saw his head pop up. He's looking in at our camp. Get your gun
ready, Frank. Some of these crazy people are said to be dangerous,"
continued Will.
"Humbug! If you saw any one at all it must have been a scout from Andy
Lasher's camp, snooping around," commented Bluff, disdainfully.
"Well, perhaps it might be another keeper from the asylum,"
remarked Smithson.
"There it is again; what did I tell you, fel--"
Will stopped speaking in a whisper and gaped. True enough a human head
had bobbed up above the tops of the bushes, as the owner of the same
endeavored to get a better view of the camp.
"It's Jerry!" ejaculated Bluff, in excitement.
Mr. Smithson dropped out of sight, thinking that the stranger in camp
might look that way, being attracted by the clamor of boyish tongues.
Jerry had caught the words of Bluff and immediately turned his head.
"Hello, fellows! Howdye? And who under the sun is the new manager you've
got to run the camp?" he asked, pushing out to greet them each in turn,
and eyeing Mr. Smithson in some curiosity.
"How are you, Jerry? Guess you know me all right, eh? Why, I'm up
here looking for an escaped lunatic, you see," said that worthy,
without rising.
"Talk to me about your coincidences--and that's him right there in our
camp, ordering poor old scared Uncle Toby around with the air of an
emperor. I see it all, boys," exclaimed Jerry, shaking hands around as
though he had been gone for a full week instead of one night.
"Well, he believes himself a bigger man than any emperor, for he makes
and unmakes kings. That is Bismarck you see, young man. And we have just
been laying a plan to capture him. Suppose you all saunter into camp
now. Somebody tell Jerry what we have decided to do. He's looking this
way, and ready to either run or hold his ground according to how the
wind blows."
"Come on, Jerry. You can tell us all that happened later. We must get rid
of this unwelcome visitor first," said Frank.
"We had just started out to learn what had become of you when we met Mr.
Smithson, and he advised us to return to our camp, as he rather expected
the gentleman he was looking for would drift that way. Awful glad you got
through that terrible storm safe, old chap," remarked Will.
"What are those things tied in a bunch at your belt--scalps?" queried
Bluff, as they walked along together.
"The tails of four wild dogs that tackled me in the big timber after I
had shot a deer which they wanted," remarked Jerry, trying to speak
naturally.
"What!" exclaimed the others in concert.
"Oh, it's a positive fact, boys. I can take you to where the critters
lie, if you want to see them later. I was told about them ranging that
section, by Jesse, who warned me to look out for them. I met the pack all
right, and I guess they wished I hadn't. Here's some of the fresh
venison. I hung up most of it so we could get it later. Then we made a
breakfast on part of what I was lugging home," Jerry went on.
"We?" remarked Frank, inquiringly.
"Of course. Andy Lasher and myself."
"Andy Lasher! Where did you run across _him_, and how did it come that
you let that miserable skunk eat breakfast with you?" demanded Bluff.
"Well, he was in a bad way, you see. I just happened to get him out from
under the branches of a fallen tree that had him pinned tight to the
ground. His arm was bruised, and we bunked together until morning. Andy's
got a repentant mood on him. He vows he's done playing nasty tricks on
our club. 'Course I don't know how it will pan out, boys."
"Say, did he tell you anything about my gun?" asked Bluff, eagerly.
Jerry turned and looked at the questioner.
"No, he didn't. Suppose he confessed to everything he ever did? But here
we are, fellows, and our guest looks as if he didn't know whether to run
for it or hang by that breakfast Toby is cooking."
Frank advanced toward the man, bowing, and assuming, as he believed,
something of a military air.
"Welcome to our camp, Prince Bismarck. Won't you be seated, and wait for
breakfast to be served? We have only rude accommodations here, but I hope
you will pardon any lack of seeming hospitality," he said.
The wild look vanished from the face of the gaunt man, and in its place
came an expression of tremendous importance. Indeed, but for the
seriousness of the situation Frank would have felt inclined to laugh
outright, it was so absurd to see this poor lunatic putting on such
magnificent airs.
"You forget, young sir, that I am the Iron Chancellor, and that while in
the field I shun all the comforts of home life. An iron cot, the simplest
food, these are enough for me. It leaves the brain clear to handle the
tremendous affairs of state that engross our attention. Where is King
William?" the other went on.
"Oh, he'll be along after awhile. Perhaps, prince, after you have
partaken of our simple fare and rested by our friendly fire a little
time, the king may join you."
Frank managed to keep a sober face while speaking in this lofty way, but
Bluff and Jerry, unable to stand it any longer, turned their backs on
the couple.