The Castaways of Pete's Patch

by Carroll Watson Rankin

  CHAPTER XXV

  A Captured Fisherman

  NOW that there was hope of learning more about Billy Blue-eyes, theyoung campers found it hard to wait patiently for possible tidings fromPittsburg. They were all restless and excited; Laddie in particularcould settle down to nothing.

  "We'll all go fishing," declared Mr. Black. "That'll keep Billy's mindoff his troubles. Dave says he knows a trail that will lead us to thefinest fishing spot in the country; so we'll take a lunch and stay allday."

  "Laddie," queried Mrs. Crane, anxiously, "are you strong enough forsuch a long trip?"

  "Sure," asserted her fidgety patient, "I could pull in a _whale_."

  "Then," declared Mrs. Crane, "I'll get Mahjigeezigoqua to wash thedishes and make the beds, and I'll go, too. I don't care if I do getrheumatism--I haven't been fishing for _years_. And that young womanloves to do things for us."

  "No wonder," said Jean, "after all you did for Rosa Marie last winter."

  "Put on your very oldest shoes," ordered Mr. Black. "You're to wade theriver--Dave says it's shallow all the way down, except in a few spotswhere we can follow a trail along the bank. He's cutting poles foreverybody."

  For perhaps half an hour, sure-footed Dave, carrying the lunch in a bagon his back, led the fishing party through thickets that Mr. Black hadsupposed impenetrable, to come out at last on the river bank. It wastheir own many-curved river, but so wildly beautiful at this seldomvisited spot that even quiet Mrs. Crane exclaimed loudly. Then, theirhooks baited, they waded into the shallow, winding stream, and fished.

  "Go _down_ dose stream," commanded Dave. "Bam-bye she's take you backto Pete's Patch."

  "Here, Bettie," said Mr. Black, "I'll show you how to cast yourhook--Phew! Here's a fish for you already--must have been ready forbreakfast!"

  Sure enough, a wriggling, silvery trout dangled from Mr. Black's pole.

  "There's something running away with my line," complained inexperiencedJean, a little frightened by this uncanny sensation. "It feels as bigas a rabbit!"

  "Pull it in," commanded Mr. Black, "you've got a bite."

  So she had, but the fish that had felt "as big as a rabbit" provedso tiny that Mr. Black put him back to grow; and the apparentlyunconcerned little trout made a dart for Marjory's hook. He seemed sodetermined to be caught by _somebody_--it didn't matter who--that Davedug a little pool in the sand for him.

  "Stay dere," ordered Dave, "till dose beeg brodder of you ees have som'chance for got caught."

  "I don't think I want to fish," said tender-hearted Jean. "I'd rather_look_. Every time I take a step I see a new picture--I'd like to keepall my eyes for the scenery."

  "So would I," declared Bettie, pulling in her line. "Let's just dawdlealong together somewhere out of reach of Mabel's hook--Goodness! Lookat Henrietta putting on her own bait!"

  "I did it, too," bragged Marjory. "I couldn't wait for Dave--it's_such_ fun to see a trout dart out from under the bank and grab yourworm and run away with it."

  "You must give a little jerk," instructed Mr. Black. "Just like that."

  "Just like this," added Mabel. But Mabel's fish proved to be a log, soamid much laughter, Dave provided her with a fresh hook.

  For several wonderful hours, the happy castaways waded and fished.Never in all their wanderings had they encountered anything asbeautiful as the overhanging trees, the fern-fringed banks, the softlygurgling water. And never had fish seemed more willing to bite. EvenDave was surprised at their voracity. In spite of Mrs. Crane's heavyfloundering, in spite of the number of times that Mabel slipped fromslimy stones to land "kersplash" on her sturdy back, in spite of thedelighted shrieks that came from Marjory and Henrietta at every bite,the hungry fish flocked to the feast of angleworms.

  SEATED ON THE DRY END WAS A STOUT, PLACID MAN]

  "Dose worms she's taste lak' pie to dose feesh," explained Dave.

  "I'd like it better," grumbled Mabel, whose hook was continuallycatching in the trees, "if there wasn't so much underbrush overhead."

  "That's certainly a queer place," laughed Billy, stringing his eleventhtrout on the branch provided by Dave, "for _under_brush. Here, I'llpull it out for you."

  The wonderfully happy morning passed all too quickly--there should besome way of prolonging summer mornings in a trout stream. They hadeaten their wholesome lunch, and Mr. Black, his fine dark eyes aglowwith eagerness, his thick, almost-white hair standing up all over hishead, had fished in a dozen perfectly marvelous holes that Dave hadpointed out, when the castaways reached in their wanderings a pointcrossed by a broken-down bridge. One end was still in place; theother sagged until it was partly submerged. Seated on the dry endof this flimsy structure, fish-pole in hand, was a stout, placid man,whose mild, serene blue eyes invited confidence.

  Sociable Mr. Black, still aglow with the joy of his unusual luck andglad of a chance to display his splendid catch, proudly disclosed thecontents of his basket--also of the basket that Dave carried.

  Billy, too, and the girls flocked nearer to display _their_ respectivecatches. It was certainly a fine showing. Mr. Black, however, had thelion's share.

  "How many did you say?" drawled the comfortable stranger, seeminglyonly mildly interested in the count. His apparent indifference, indeed,proved quite galling to Mr. Black, who had introduced himself and hisparty.

  "Seventy-two for mine," beamed Mr. Black. "For once we'll have all thetrout we can eat."

  "Well, Mr. Black," returned the man, in his leisurely, indifferent way,"I'm sorry for you; but I guess you'll have to ride to Lakeville in mybuckboard to-night. I'm the game warden; and fifty fish is the limit."

  "The game warden!" gasped Mabel.

  "The game warden!" gasped Henrietta.

  "The game warden!" gasped all the others.

  "The penalty," drawled the leisurely officer, "is either imprisonmentor a fine--seein' it's you, you'll probably have to pay a fine."

  "I _will_!" exclaimed Mr. Black. "What's that about a limit? I didn'tknow----"

  "New law," explained the man, lazily. "And some of these heretrout that your kids have caught are undersized; they ain't seveninches--'nother new law; you'll have to pay for those, too."

  "Why, the limit is _six_ inches."

  "Used to be, ain't any more," returned the placid person, fumbling inhis pocket for a battered copy of the game laws. "See, here's what itsays."

  "I guess you're right," admitted Mr. Black, scanning the pages.

  "I'm real sorry," stated the game warden for the second time. "But yousee, Mr. Black, I've got to arrest _somebody_ this week or they'llthink I'm not earning my salary. And I guess you can stand it lotsbetter'n some."

  "Well," said Mr. Black, "I certainly supposed I was a law-abidingcitizen; but I'm willing to pay the piper--it isn't often that I danceto such a merry tune. Those fish are worth any fine that I shall haveto pay. I'll go down with you to-night if you'll tell me where to meetyou; but I'm going to eat my share of those fish first--I assure you ofthat!"

  Mabel, who had edged closer to the game warden, now relieved her mind.

  "Say," she queried, "you won't put him in jail, will you?"

  "Not if he's able to pay his fine," smiled the stout officer.

  "Where," she next demanded, severely, "are your leggings?"

  "Leggings!" exclaimed the puzzled man. "Why! They don't make any bigenough to go round my fatted calves."

  "I don't believe you _are_ the game warden," declared Mabel. "You'rejust pretending."

  The complacent officer, however, proved his right to the title byshowing certain documents to Mr. Black. But, as Mabel leaned closer toinspect them, too, her weight upon the rotten log on which the bulkygame warden sat proved too much for the time-worn timber. Down itcrashed, taking Mabel and the astonished officer with it.

  Fortunately, the water at this point was sufficiently deep to breaktheir fall, for the river bottom near the bridge was of solidsandstone, and therefore pretty hard. Dave plunged in after Mabel, butpermitted t
he gasping game warden to flounder out by himself. By way ofatonement, Mr. Black invited the victim to supper and later loaned himsome dry clothing. After this accident, the campers, somewhat subduedbut fully alive to the wonderful charm of the day, proceeded towardhome. It was five o'clock when the castaways, hungry but otherwisenone the worse for their long day in the river, finally reached Pete'sPatch; for the point in the pretty stream that was only three-quartersof a mile away by land was almost a day's journey by water, owing tothe numerous twists and turns of the winding river that was so likeDave's queer conscience.

  "Say, M'sieu Black," said Dave, lingering after the others had turnedtoward camp, and speaking in a dreadful whisper very close to Mr.Black's ear. "Ah'm good frien' to you. Eet ees ver' bad, Ah'm tole(here Dave's black eye glittered humorously), to broke dose game law;but eef you ees weesh for hide you'self, me, Ah'm show you som' pootygood plass. Dose game ward' hunt for feefty year biffore she ees fin'dose ol' Pete Black. Hey, Pete? You lak for hide on yourself?"

  "Thank you, Dave," returned Mr. Black, "but I guess I'd better take mymedicine like a man--a man doesn't hide."

  His first plan failing, Dave kindly offered to set the game wardenhopelessly astray, to steal his horse, and finally, as a last resort,to murder the unsuspecting officer in a variety of ingenious ways. ButMr. Black declined all these kindly offers and finally convinced Davethat he didn't mind going to Lakeville, with a good fish supper insideof him.

  The castaways found Mr. Saunders in possession of the camp at Pete'sPatch. He had whittled a shingle doll for Rosa Marie, who sat in raptdevotion at his feet.

  "She hasn't taken her eyes off me since I arrived, three hours ago,"declared Saunders, rising to hand some papers to Mr. Black. "She'simmensely taken with either my auburn hair or my new tan shoes--I don'tknow which. I didn't know, Mr. Black, what you wanted done about thisinsurance matter, so I brought the letters to you."

  "Mighty glad to see you," returned Mr. Black, "for I'm going to townto-night. You'll have to stay here till I get back and be a father tomy family. I'm under arrest for breaking the game laws--but wait tillyou see what I broke 'em with. Those fish----"

  "Any news from Pittsburg?" interrupted Mrs. Crane.

  "Not a word. But I've brought letters for all those girls. Theirmothers, aunts, and so forth want to know how they're going to getthem ready to go away to school next fall if you keep them in the woodsall summer. They want to make clothes for them."

  "It isn't polite," giggled lively Henrietta, "to answer letters themoment you get them. And anyhow, who wants clothes?"

  "There's just one thing that we do want," said Mrs. Crane, "and that'snews for our Billy-boy. He's so uneasy that he can't rest. In fact,we're _all_ uneasy--in a state of suspense----"

  "Well," returned Mr. Black, "worrying won't hurry matters, so you'dbetter amuse yourselves with other things--perhaps Saunders will help."

  Saunders _did_ help; nevertheless, it was hard to wait; for by thistime Laddie-Billy was quite certain that he was a friendless waif, ahomeless orphan, or, at best, a hopelessly lost youngster with onlyhalf a mind.

  "I'd rather be dead," mourned Billy, bitterly, "than a blitheringidiot."