Chapter XII: Happenings of the Second Night

When Mr. Holwell stepped ashore to shake hands heartily all around he looked very happy indeed.

“I’m delighted to be with you, boys,” he told them again and again, in his sincere way that always drew young people to him.

“The feeling is mutual then, sir,” spoke up Peg Fosdick, bluntly; “because we’re just tickled half to death to see you up here at Camp Russabaga. And now, you assistant cooks, suppose you get busy with dinner. Mr. Holwell will be awfully hungry after his journey, and Sunny Jim can’t do it all by himself.”

The camp director, accompanied by Dick as his assistant, took the newcomer around to show him what had been accomplished. As Mr. Holwell had never set eyes on the big lake before he was greatly impressed with the picture he saw in the dying sunlight.

“Wait until sunset, sir,” said Dick, eagerly, “and if it’s anything like we had last evening, with the whole sky painted in colors, you’ll surely say you never saw the equal of it.”

“I want to remark right now, Mr. Bartlett, that your boys have done exceedingly well to get this camp in the condition it is. I’ve been in camps before now, and, as a rule, the campers are a happy-go-lucky set, willing to shirk work so as to have what they call a good time. But here everything seems to have a place, and to be where it belongs. Order is a fine thing for any boy to learn; and cleanliness comes next to godliness.”

The minister watched the preparations for the meal with kindling eyes. His memory took him back a good many years to the times when he was a boy himself; and he could appreciate the enthusiasm with which Sunny Jim and his helpers went at their pleasing task of getting the good things to eat ready for the table.

And then that dinner--what a royal one it turned out to be! After the simple and earnest grace the meal was served. Mr. Holwell showered unstinted praise on everything that came before him. The fish were broiled to a turn, the coffee was real ambrosia fit for the gods, the potatoes had been baked just right, the succotash made him constantly feel like asking for more. And, winding up with a dish of rice and milk and sugar, he declared it to be better than any pudding he had tasted for years.

“I think Mr. Holwell is getting his camp appetite in order right away,” suggested Peg, who, of course, was delighted to have the culinary efforts praised in this fashion.

“To tell the truth,” admitted the minister, frankly, “I consider that I showed most wonderful sagacity in fetching along additional supplies with me, because if I stir up any more appetite than I seem to have to-night there’ll be a terrible drain on your stock of provisions.”

“Oh! we know where there’s a farm only two miles away,” said Phil, “and to-morrow half a dozen of us have been detailed by Mr. Bartlett to tramp over there and get all the eggs and fresh butter and such things we can lug back with us.”

“And as long as those dandy bass are willing to take our minnows,” added Peg, “we ought to keep the wolf from the door, somehow or other.”

After the meal they piled high the campfire, and when the dishes had been looked after every one sat around in various attitudes, either taking part in the brisk conversation or listening to what Mr. Holwell and the camp leaders said in the way of congratulation and advice.

Finally, several were discovered surreptitiously yawning, and Dick realized that the bed hour had arrived. So interesting had the talk been that none of them had paid any attention to the flight of time.

“Where am I going to sleep?” asked Mr. Holwell, when Harry Bartlett explained that nine o’clock was the hour set in the camp for retiring. Moreover, they had put in a strenuous day from before sunrise, and consequently all the boys were tired.

“We have provided a cot in the tent we occupy, Mr. Holwell,” explained the physical director. “Some of the boys have made us a small table for our few toilet articles, shaving things, and such. Besides, we have a couple of folding chairs. Only for a shortage of tents we should have been glad to give you one to yourself, sir.”

The minister shook his head vigorously at that.

“I am glad you didn’t,” he told them, smilingly. “I am no tenderfoot when it comes to camping, you will find; for in days that are past I wandered over many parts of the world, and even faced many perils. I have slept in the igloo of an Esquimau, as well as under the haircloth tent of a desert Bedouin. I would never stand for being given accommodations that differed in any degree from those of the boys.”

When they heard him say that, some of the campers felt like shouting their appreciation, only this early in the outing they had come to understand that boisterous ways must be kept under control.

Somehow or other, there had been so much to talk about while they sat around the bright crackling fire after supper that no one had thought to mention the little mystery of the first night of their stay on Bass Island.

Dick remembered about it when he was undressing, and was half tempted to break rules by crossing over to the tent where the three gentlemen were to sleep, with the intention of speaking to Mr. Holwell.

“What’s the use?” he asked himself on second thought. “It would only bother him more or less, and perhaps make him have a sleepless night; because I’m sure he’d begin to think something about poor Asa. In the morning I’ll watch my chance and tell him about it.”

Accordingly, Dick held his peace. His tent mates were Leslie Capes, Peg and Andy Hale, all congenial companions, and Dick expected considerable enjoyment during the nights they would be together.

Talking aloud was prohibited after half-past nine, so that if any fellows like Nat and his cronies, who had their quarters together, wished to converse they would have to do it in whispers.

Mr. Bartlett had laid down strict rules, and the penalties for breaking these would fall heavily on the heads of the offenders. Curtailing all privileges might cause the guilty ones to repent of having been so rash.

For once in their lives Nat, Dit and Alonzo found it necessary to do as they were told; and they were already regretting their step in deciding to accompany the campers on the outing.

Dick had purposely chosen a particular spot near the exit when arranging his blanket. He did this for several reasons. In the first place he liked the idea of attending to the fire in case he happened to wake up during the night, just as all old woodsmen and hunters were in the habit of doing, Dick understood. Then again, if there came any sort of alarm, and he wished to get out in a hurry, it would be more convenient for him than if he had to stumble over several boys who were beginning to sit up and get in the way.

Truth to tell, about this time the mysterious events of the preceding night began to take hold of his mind. Much to his chagrin, for some little time Dick could not banish them, try as he would.

“Here, this will never do,” he finally told himself after he had turned over as many as four different times, his thoughts busy all the while. “Just forget everything but the one fact that you’re sleepy, and it’s getting pretty late.”

Resolutely holding his mind in check after that, the boy finally succeeded in falling asleep though it required considerable force of character to control his feverish thoughts.

Several hours must have crept by when Dick chanced to awaken. One of his arms felt numb from the weight of his body which had been resting on it.

“I suppose I might as well throw a log on the fire while I’m about it,” he told himself, as, yawning, he commenced to push aside his blanket and crawl forth. “And a few swallows of that cool water wouldn’t go bad either, for I’m thirsty after all that salty ham I ate.”

The moon was well up in the heavens when he crept forth from the shelter of the tent and was shining just as brilliantly as on the preceding night. Without making any sort of noise calculated to disturb even a light sleeper Dick crossed over to where the flickering fire lay.

As he did so something caused him to glance beyond, and he felt a thrill as he believed he caught a glimpse of a crouching moving figure over by the bushes.