Chapter XVI: Was It a Wild Man of the Woods?

“What’s all this you are telling us, Nat?” asked Mr. Bartlett, with a show of interest, while the boys of the camp crowded around the trio of newcomers, and Mr. Holwell and Mr. Rowland stood listening not far to one side.

Dit and Alonzo seemed pretty well exhausted. They sank down on a log, panting as if they could hardly catch their breath. Despite the color in their flushed faces they looked alarmed, as well as sheepish on account of having given way to their fears.

“Why, we certain sure did see _something_, Mr. Bartlett!” urged Nat, with emphasis. “The woods happened to be kind o’ gloomy right there, so we couldn’t be dead sure what it was, but he made a horrible drumming sound, and waved his arms above his head. Ugh! did we run? Well, to say we tore along’d be hitting it closer.”

“And I reckon the wild man chased after us for a little, too,” Dit Hennesy managed to say between his gasps. “Leastwise I could hear something comin’ back of us, and it made me smash into a tree, I was that worried.”

He put a hand up to his forehead, where they could see that a lump had made its appearance. This at least was evidence that the boys were not trying to play one of Nat’s customary practical jokes. Bumps like that have a way of telling a story of their own. Bumps seldom lie.

“What makes you think it was a wild man?” asked Harry Bartlett, trying to get all the information possible from the boys.

“Oh! well,” replied Nat, slowly, “he just seemed to act wild, I reckon. When we glimpsed him he was squatting down, and as soon as Dit here let out a whoop he commenced growling at us something fierce.”

“Yes, sir,” said Alonzo, thinking he ought to add the weight of his testimony to that given by his two companions, “it was a wild man as sure as anything. And right away, sir, there were three wild boys tearing through the woods like fun. As luck would have it we came in the right direction, and didn’t get lost. Whew! I’d hate to spend a night alone on this island with _that_ thing roaming around loose!”

The camp director and Mr. Holwell walked aside, Dick going with them.

“What do you think about it, Mr. Holwell?” asked the boy.

“They evidently did see something that frightened them,” admitted the gentleman. “But whether it was an animal or a crazy human being remains to be found out later. When boys are suddenly thrown into a bad scare they can easily mistake a hog, or even a harmless calf, for a monster.”

“But if there is some sort of strange creature loose on Bass Island,” pursued Dick, eagerly, “mightn’t that explain the thefts that have been taking place?”

“True enough, Dick,” answered Harry Bartlett, “and for one I earnestly hope that may turn out to be the case. It gives me a heartache to think of suspecting any boy among us of being a thief.”

Several other boys joined them just then. They were all trying to figure out how much dependence could be placed on the story told by Nat and his cronies. In times past they had cried “wolf” so often that now no one felt like believing them, though, in fact, there might be real cause for alarm.

“Huh!” said Dan, skeptically, “like as not they were looking to see what the chances were to leave the island when they could hook one of the boats, and then got scared at their own shadows. It’s nearly always the way with bullies like Nat.”

“But why should they want to desert us, Dan?” asked Mr. Holwell.

The other shrugged his shoulders in a way that stood for a great deal.

“Oh! well, sir,” he went on to say, “I don’t want to accuse any one, you understand, and right now I’m not hinting that Nat had a hand in those thefts; but you see they think we suspect them, and that makes it disagreeable here for them.”

“To tell the truth,” said Elmer Jones, “I never thought they’d tag along with us up here, in a regularly organized Y. M. C. A. camp, because they’re always in fear of being lectured on account of their ways. But they came, and now they feel uneasy when this queer mystery is afoot.”

“We mustn’t make them feel that they are suspected,” said the minister. “So far they seem to have behaved themselves fairly well, and I have been allowing myself to hope that by degrees those boys may see that it pays to be decent. I would like to show them that there’s more genuine fun to be gotten out of the clean method of living than in the way they’ve usually carried on. Besides, we mustn’t forget that none of those boys has the best of home influences back of him.”

“There comes the boat with the bass fishermen!” called Dan just then, as a shout was heard from the water.

“They act as if they had met with at least fair success,” said Mr. Holwell, who could read boys like the printed page of a book, though for all that he confessed that he found something new every day to study in their make-up.

“And unless my eyes are deceiving me,” remarked Harry Bartlett, “there’s the other boat pushing out from the shore across the lake.”

“Just what it is,” added Clint Babbett, who possessed keen vision. “And say! let me tell you they’ve got a load of stuff along with them. Must have about cleaned that farmer out of eatables.”

There was more or less excitement as the boats came in, one after the other. The fishermen had succeeded beyond their most ardent expectations, and showed a splendid catch of bass, several of which exceeded in weight the largest taken on the preceding day.

When those from the second boat landed they proudly exhibited the results of their visit to the farm. There was butter, beautiful golden in color, and many dozens of eggs, some of them from ducks, though it was pretty late in the summer for these fowls to be laying, Mr. Holwell observed.

“And here’s six of the finest spring chickens you ever saw,” said Phil Harkness, one of the foragers, exultantly. “They had just fixed them for market, and were only too glad to sell them to us.”

“The farmer’s wife treated us to all the buttermilk we could swallow,” observed Fred Bonnicastle, another of the returned pilgrims. “She said we could have gallons of it if only we had some way of carrying it back with us, which we didn’t--only _in_ us.”

Lunch was prepared with the customary breezy accessories in the way of directions called back and forth. Mr. Holwell seemed just the same as usual. If he felt his late loss keenly he knew how to hide his feelings, so that he might not cause the spirits of his boys to droop.

One lad, however, said nothing. This was Asa Gardner. Dick could not help noticing that the boy heaved a deep sigh every little while, when he thought no one was noticing him.

“He certainly looks unhappy,” Dick told himself, as once more suspicions began to force themselves into his mind, though he hurriedly put them aside, remembering the promise he had made to Mr. Holwell to believe in Asa and help him all he possibly could.

The three berry pickers had returned with full buckets. They reported the supply of berries as literally inexhaustible. Still it could be seen that they were beginning to wonder where the fun of their outing was to come in if they had to spend most of their time in doing this sort of work.

“On Monday,” Dick told Mr. Holwell and Mr. Bartlett, “I’ll give some of the fellows a tip, and see if many hands won’t make light work. We’d all like to pick berries for a while, I expect, and every quart will count so much to their score. And I’ve an idea Mr. Nocker means to see that they get a price for those berries that no one ever had before.”

“That’s the right spirit to show,” Mr. Holwell remarked as he placed a hand affectionately on Dick’s shoulder.

It happened that a little while after lunch Dick wandered down to the landing to take a look at one of the boats which had been reported as leaking again. He believed he knew of a way in which it could be mended so as to stay dry and serviceable.

He turned the boat upside-down; and, while stooping over examining the bottom of the flat craft, he heard some one coming. Turning his head he saw it was Asa Gardner. Like a flash it struck Dick that the other wanted to say something to him in secret, and was taking this chance when no one else was near.

A chill gripped Dick’s heart. He seemed to feel that something dreadful was coming, though he could not guess its nature as yet.

Asa drew alongside.

“Dick,” he said, and the other boy noticed how his voice trembled.

“Yes, what is it, Asa?”

“I’ve been waiting to catch you alone, because I’ve got something to say to you that I wouldn’t like anybody else to hear, especially Mr. Holwell.”

Dick felt the chilly sensation again; but he looked up smilingly.

“All right, Asa,” he said, cheerily, “here’s your chance to tell me what’s bothering you. If I can do anything to make you feel easier just make up your mind I want to help you. Now, what’s gone wrong?”

Asa’s eyes were growing wet, and evidently he labored under great emotion.

“It’s just this, Dick,” he said, weakly, “I never should have dared come along with a bunch of decent fellows like your crowd. I ought to have known I just couldn’t keep from falling back into my old ways, that have got such a terrible grip on me. And Dick, there’s only one thing to be done--send me home right away!”