Fenn Masterson's Discovery; or, The Darewell Chums on a Cruise

by Lillian Elizabeth Roy

  CHAPTER XXI

  THE CHINESE BUTTON

  Game was not so plentiful in the woods about the camp, as the threechums had hoped. Frank, Ned and Bart tramped along, keeping a closewatch for anything that would promise to restock the larder, but, forsome time, the most they saw, were numbers of small birds--too small toshoot.

  "Why can't we scare up a covey of partridges?" asked Ned, ratherdisgustedly, after they had been out an hour or more.

  "Why don't you wish for a herd of deer, or a drove of bears, that is ifbears go in droves," suggested Bart. "You want things too easy, you do."

  "I don't care whether they're easy or not, as long as there are some ofthem," retorted Ned. "I'd like to hear how this gun sounds when it'sshot off."

  "Hark! What's that?" exclaimed Bart, looking up as a sudden whirringnoise was audible in the air over their heads.

  The boys looked up, and, to their surprise, saw a big flock of wildducks, flying quite low. It was rather early in the season for them, asthey learned later, but they did not stop to think of that. Withoutfurther words, they raised their guns and blazed away.

  "Hurrah! We got some!" yelled Ned, as he saw several of the wild fowltumbling earthward.

  "The other barrel!" exclaimed Frank. "We may not get another chance, andwe'd better kill enough to last us a week."

  They fired again, and killed several more of the ducks. They found thebirds to be in fairly good condition, though they would be fatter lateron.

  "They will make fine eating!" remarked Bart, as he held up a string ofthe wild fowl. "Maybe Fenn won't like to set his teeth in a nice brownedpiece of roast duck."

  "Providing he is well enough to eat it," added Ned.

  "Oh, he'll be well enough," was Frank's answer. "But I'd like to getsomething else besides duck."

  "Well, we've got plenty of time yet," suggested Bart. "Let's go a littlefarther."

  Slinging their game over their shoulders, and reloading their guns, theboys once more started off. They had not gone far before a commotion ina clump of underbrush, just ahead of where Ned was walking, startled thelad into sudden activity.

  "Here's something!" he called in a hoarse whisper.

  "Yes, and it's liable to come out and shake hands with you, and ask howyou like the weather, if you yell that way again," remarked Frank."Don't you know any better than to call out like that when you'rehunting?"

  "I couldn't help it," whispered Ned. "I saw something big and black. Ithink it's a bear."

  "A bear! Where?" cried Bart in a whisper, cocking his gun.

  "Go easy," advised Frank. "We stand a swell chance of killing a bearwith these light shotguns. Where is it, Ned?"

  The boys were all speaking in low tones, and had come to a halt in alittle circle of trees. All about them was thick underbrush, from themidst of which had issued the disturbance that caused Ned to exclaim.

  "There it is!" he said, grasping Frank by the arm, and pointing towardsomething dark. At that moment it moved, and a good-sized animal dartedforward, right across the trail, in front of the boys, and, an instantlater was scrambling up a tall tree as if for dear life.

  "Fire!" cried Ned, suiting the action to the word. He aimed point-blankat the creature, but, when the smoke cleared away, there was no deadbody to testify to his prowess as a hunter.

  "Missed!" exclaimed Ned disgustedly. "And it was a fine chance to bowlover a bear cub, too."

  "Bear cub?" repeated Frank. "Take a look at what you think is a bearcub."

  Frank pointed to the tree, up which the animal had climbed. There, awayout on the end of a rather thin limb, it crouched, looking down on theboys--a huddled bunch of fur.

  "A raccoon!" exclaimed Bart. "You're a fine naturalist, you are, Ned.Why didn't you take it for a giraffe or an elephant?"

  "That's all right, you'd have made the same mistake if you had seen itfirst," retorted Ned. "I'm going to have a shot at it, anyway."

  He raised his gun, but the raccoon, probably thinking now was theopportunity to show that he believed in the old maxim, to the effectthat discretion is the better part of valor, made a sudden movement andvanished.

  "See!" exclaimed Ned triumphantly. "He knew I was some relation to DavyCrockett. He didn't exactly want to come down, but he had some businessto attend to in another tree."

  "That's an easy way of getting out of it," remarked Bart, "but I'llwager you would have missed worse than I did if you had shot."

  "Oh, come on and stop scrapping!" exclaimed Frank.

  "We're not scrapping," retorted Ned. "Only I say I'm as good a shot ashe is."

  "You can prove it, by shooting at a mark, when we get back to camp,"suggested Frank. "Just now we're out hunting, not trying to decide arifle match."

  But word seemed to have gone through the woods that three mighty boyhunters were abroad, and all the game appeared to have gone into hiding.Tramp as the chums did, for several miles, they got no further sight ofanything worth shooting at.

  "I guess we'll have to be content with the ducks, and go back," remarkedFrank, after a somewhat long jaunt in silence. "Fenn may be lonesomewaiting for us."

  "I know my stomach is lonesome for something to eat," returned Bart."The sooner some of these ducks are roasting, or stewing or cooking inwhatever is the quickest way, the better I'll like it."

  "All right, let's head for camp," agreed Ned, and, having picked outtheir trail, by the help of a compass they carried, they were soonjourneying toward where their tent was set up.

  "I hope Fenn is all right," remarked Frank, as they trudged onward.

  "All right? Why shouldn't he be?" inquired Bart.

  "Well, I was a little worried about leaving him alone."

  "Why Fenn is able to take care of himself," declared Ned. "Besides,what's there to be afraid of?"

  "I don't know," admitted Frank. "But suppose another spell of fevershould suddenly develop, and he was all alone? It wouldn't be verynice."

  "Well, he was as anxious to have us go as we were to start off,"remarked Bart.

  "I know it, but still, I can't help feeling a little anxious."

  "Oh, he'll be all right," declared Bart, confidently. "He'll have agood fire ready for us, coffee made, and all we'll have to do will beto clean these ducks and put them to roast."

  "I hope so," replied Frank.

  The boys, in the excitement of the chase, had gone farther into thewoods than they had anticipated on starting out. Consequently it waslater than they expected when they got to where they saw landmarks thattold them they were near camp.

  "It's only about half a mile farther now," remarked Bart.

  "Give a yell," suggested Ned. "Fenn will hear it and know we arecoming."

  The three chums united their voices in a loud hallo; and, when theechoes had died away, they listened for an answering cry. None came,and the woods were silent, save for the noises made by birds flittinghere and there in the branches of the trees.

  "He didn't hear us," said Ned. "Try again."

  "Maybe--maybe he isn't there," suggested Frank, in a low voice.

  "Of course he is!" declared Ned. "Maybe he's asleep."

  "I guess he didn't hear us," suggested Bart. "The wind is blowing thewrong way. Let's yell again."

  Once more they shouted, but with no effect. There came no answeringhail.

  "Come on!" called Frank, increasing his speed. The boys spoke butseldom during the remainder of the tramp to camp. When they came insight of the tent they strained their eyes for a sight of their chum.He was nowhere to be seen.

  "Probably he's inside, lying down," spoke Ned.

  It needed but a glance within the canvas shelter, to show that Fenn wasnot there. In the gathering dusk Frank gave a hasty glance about thelocality. The embers of what had been the campfire, were cold. There wasno sign that Fenn had been there recently, or that he had made anypreparations to receive his chums.

  "He must have gone off in the woods and forgotten to come back,"suggested Bart. "Maybe he went hunting on his
own account."

  "If he had, he'd have taken his gun," replied Frank, pointing to wherethe weapon stood in a corner of the tent.

  "Then he's out for a walk," declared Bart.

  "He's staying rather late," commented Frank. "I hope--"

  Frank did not finish his sentence. Suddenly, he darted forward andpicked up something off the ground.

  "What is it?" asked Bart.

  For answer Frank held it out on the palm of his hand. It was a smallobject and the two boys had to bend close to see what it was. They sawone of the peculiar brass buttons that serve to hold the loops withwhich a Chinese blouse is fastened.

  "A Chinese button!" exclaimed Bart, in a whisper.

  "The Chinamen have been here!" added Ned.

  "It looks as if the smugglers had Fenn," said Frank solemnly. "They musthave sneaked in here and carried him off!"