Four in Camp: A Story of Summer Adventures in the New Hampshire Woods

by Ralph Henry Barbour

  CHAPTER XV

  CONCLUDES THE ADVENTURE AND SHOWS TOM SLEEPING THE SLEEP OF THE JUST

  At the first alarm Nelson and Tom had sprung down the gangway to thefloat, ready to lend assistance to Dan. Luckily there were no boats atthe head of the pier, and so Dan had struck nothing harder than thewater. He was up in an instant.

  “Are you hurt?” called Nelson anxiously.

  “No, I’m all right,” was the reply. “Did they hear?”

  “Yes, they’re coming!” And Nelson slipped into the water, followed byTom, and struck out vigorously.

  “Swim like the dickens!” counseled Dan. “Make for the shore!”

  Back of them a lantern was swaying down the path and a voice cried:

  “Who’s that? What’s the matter?”

  But the boys offered no explanations. They were very busy at thatmoment. There was no thought now of quietness; their one endeavor wasto get to shore as soon as possible. Once Nelson turned to look. Thelight of the lantern showed two or possibly three forms on the pier,and from the way the lantern was lowered and carried back and forth heknew that they had seen the wet footprints and, perhaps, had discoveredthe loss of the pole.

  “Some of your boys on a lark, I fancy,” said a voice. “I’m certain Iheard them swimming away as I came down. No, I won’t go along, thanks.”

  When Nelson glanced back again the lantern was moving about the float.After that he attended strictly to business. Tom and Dan were well inthe lead and he swam his hardest to overtake them. Hand over hand hewent, _splash_, _splash_, his eyes full of water, and his breath comingharder and harder. Then a new sound came to him, the steady churn ofthe Chicora’s propeller. Desperation lent new strength and in a dozenstrokes he was even with Dan; Tom still led by a couple of lengths.

  “They’re after us in the launch,” gasped Dan. “When we get--nearshore--spread out--and take--to the woods. They won’t see--the canoe.”

  “All right,” answered Nelson.

  The camp record for the quarter mile was something a little undernine minutes, but there is no doubt but that that record was smashedto fragments that night, at least by Tom. Yet in spite of their bestendeavors the launch gained on them from the start. Had they hadmuch farther to go they would have been caught beyond a doubt. Asit was they were in the darkness under the trees before the Chicoracould reach them. The launch could not come nearer than twenty yardsfrom shore because of her draft, and that fact saved them. As theyfloundered, up to their waists, over the submerged branches and rockstoward land they heard a hail from the boat:

  “Stop where you are or I’ll fire at you!”

  “Down!” whispered Dan. Nelson heard, but Tom, who was well ahead,splashed on, sounding in the stillness like an elephant at his bath.The Chicora had stopped her screw, and those on board were listeningintently. Dan and Nelson, flat on their stomachs in two feet of water,made no sound and waited nervously for the report of Mr. Clinton’srevolver. They were certain that he couldn’t see them and certain thathe wouldn’t shoot them if he did; but he might discharge his revolverto scare them, and there was just an unpleasant possibility that one orother of them might be hit by mistake. Tom had subsided on the groundat the edge of the woods, and they could hear him panting heavily wherehe lay. Then:

  “I heard only one,” said Mr. Clinton, his words coming clear anddistinct across the water. “Surely one of our boys wouldn’t do such atrick alone.”

  “There may be more around, though,” said Thorpe.

  “I doubt it. More likely it was some one looking for a chance to steal.Although why he wanted a flagpole is beyond me. Anyhow, we can’t getany nearer. We’ll go on to camp, I guess.”

  Then, to the boys’ relief, the screw started again and the light thatmarked the position of the launch moved away up the lake.

  “Quick!” whispered Dan. “We must make a run for it. If we can get intoour bunks before he gets there we’ll be all right.”

  They floundered out of the water, were joined by Tom, and went crashingthrough the woods, bumping into trees, lashing their faces withbranches, and making enough noise to be heard by those on the launchhad it not been for the beat of the propeller. Fortunately the road wasbut a short distance, and once on that they made fine time.

  “Talk about your hare-and-hounds!” gasped Nelson. “Gee!”

  When they reached the clearing they stopped running and went forwardcautiously. All was silent and deserted. In a moment they had gainedMaple Hall. But Dan stopped them before they had laid foot on the porch.

  “We must wipe our feet,” he said, “or Clint will see the tracks. Here.”

  Some one had left a towel over the railing, and with this theyhurriedly wiped their feet clean of dirt and leaves. Their bodies haddried long since and were glowing from their exertions. Just as thetowel was thrown aside and they had mounted the porch a light gleamedbetween the trees of the path from the landing and voices reached them.

  “Quick!” whispered Nelson. “What did you do with the towel? We mustn’tleave it here.” He picked it up and followed the others into thegloom of the dormitory, treading softly over the creaking boards. IfDr. Smith was awake it was all up with them. But the bed by the doorgave no sound. The hall was silent save for the deep breathing andoccasional snores of its occupants. Nelson found his bunk, tossed thesoiled towel beneath it, dived into his pajamas, and slipped into bedjust as the door at the end of the dormitory became suddenly illuminedand footsteps sounded on the porch outside. He was panting hard, buthe drew the clothes up to his chin, threw one arm over his head, andstrove to look as though he had been asleep for hours. Then he waited,hoping that Tom and Dan had gained their bunks and that Mr. Clintonwould not look too closely at his hair, which was still wet.

  Then the light glowed against his closed lids and he heard the Chiefand Mr. Thorpe walking slowly down the aisle. And at the same momenthe became aware of a sound he had not heard before, a loud, unmusicalwheeze and gurgle that came from his side of the hall further down. Thenext instant he realized what it was and would have given much to havebeen able to give vent to the laughter that threatened to choke him.Tom was snoring!

  To have heard that snore would have satisfied any one that ThomasCourtenay Ferris had been sleeping the sleep of the just for manyhours. And Mr. Clinton was no exception. When he raised the lanternover Tom’s wide-open mouth and listened to the evidence that pouredforth he smiled and walked on. Up the aisle he went, stopping at eachbunk. And then:

  “Everything seems all right here, Thorpe,” Nelson heard him mutter.

  “Yes, I guess you were right, sir,” answered Mr. Thorpe with a yawn.

  “I guess I was, only--what any one should want with a flagpole is morethan I can see!”

  Then they retraced their steps, passed out of the door and disappeared,and Nelson, raising his head with a sigh of relief, saw the lantern’slight grow dimmer and dimmer. Two minutes later they were all on Dan’sbunk, hysterically whispering and giggling, and it was an hour laterwhen sleepiness at last broke up the meeting. When the first buglesounded three of the occupants of Maple Hall only muttered and turnedover again, to arise finally with heavy eyes and aching limbs.