Canoe Boys and Campfires Part 19

A spring was visible a little above the fishermen, and as the boys happened to be thirsty they paddled over to it.

The canoes immediately became objects of interest, and a friendly conversation was started.

The man in the boat stepped out, and picked up Randy's gun.

"That's a purty nice weapon," he observed in a mournful voice. "It ain't unlike the one I lost, only mine was longer, and a leetle bit lighter.

It was a muzzle loader, though, and this is one of them new fangled kind."

"How did you lose yours?" inquired Randy.

"It sunk out there," replied the man, pointing toward mid-channel. "I was driftin' along when I seen a muskrat in the reeds on t'other sh.o.r.e.

I stood up to reach the gun, an' just as I got holt of it my foot slipped on a wet board, an' down I come. The weapon went overboard, an'

that was the end of it. It riles me bad, 'cause that gun belonged to my old daddy."

"When did this happen?" asked Randy.

"'Bout half an hour ago; anyway not much mor'n that."

"But the gun surely isn't lost for good. Why don't you dive after it?"

The man thrust his hands into his pockets and stared blankly at Randy.

The three fishermen smiled and nudged each other.

"Why don't you dive after it?" repeated Randy. "If you can tell me the exact location I'll get it for you."

"You will, will you?" exclaimed the man impressively. "Waal, I reckon you'd have a stiff contract. Did you fellows never hear of Rudy's Hole?

Thar it lies right in front of you, and there ain't no bottom to it."

"Hold on, Mose Hocker," exclaimed one of the fishermen. "There must be bottom somewheres, of course, but it's mighty far down."

The boys looked at one another incredulously and smiled. The idea of a bottomless hole in the Conodoguinet was ridiculous.

At that moment an old man with bent back and white hair hobbled down the path from the road above, leaning heavily on his cane, which was his constant companion.

"Good afternoon, Daddy Perkiss," exclaimed Mose Hocker. "I'm glad you come along. I lost my gun out in the Hole a while ago, and this chap here offers to dive arter it. You've lived around these parts nigh onto eighty years. Tell him how fur down he'll have to go to reach that weapon."

"Ho! Ho!" cackled Daddy Perkiss, as he tremblingly sat down on a drift log, "the lad wants to dive in Rudy's Hole, does he? Well, let him try, let him try."

The old man was silent for a moment, and his bleary eyes had a far away expression as though they were looking into the dim past.

"It be sixty years since Jonas Rudy were drowned out here," he mumbled in a shrill voice, "an they ain't found the body to this day. I were away at the time, drivin' a teamster's wagon to Pittsburg, but I mind hearin' the story when I come home. Many a time I've heard tell how they tried to find bottom the next spring after Jonas was drowned.

"Mike Berry, the blacksmith over at Four Corners, brought his anvil, an'

the men made the women folks give up their clotheslines. Then they went out on the hole in the old ferryboat, and let down the anvil. There was two hundred feet of line in all, an' when half of it were out the men lost their grip. The rest went like greased lightnin', an' the end got coiled around Mike Berry's yaller dog, an' took it along. The poor beast never came up again."

Daddy Perkiss paused for sheer want of breath, and looked around to note the effect of his story.

"That yarn was started years ago," whispered Mose Hocker, coming close up to the boys, "an' Daddy has told it so many times that he believes every word. I reckon the most of it's true though. It would take more'n one clothesline to reach bottom out here."

"But has the place never been sounded?" asked Ned. "Have you never tried it yourself?"

Mose Hocker shook his head vigorously. "What would be the use?" he replied. "n.o.body doubts it. Why, Rudy's Hole is known an' dreaded for miles around."

Evidently regarding this argument as a clincher he turned aside, and began to talk to Daddy Perkiss.

About this time Randy was doing a good deal of thinking. He had listened with incredulous interest to the old man's narrative, and knowing how p.r.o.ne country folk are to accept any fanciful story--especially a long standing tradition--without ever attempting to verify it, the conviction had forced itself upon his mind that Rudy's Hole was a myth--in other words that its depth was nothing extraordinary.

Randy was a good swimmer, but a far better diver. He was long winded, and his staying qualities under water had always been a source of admiration and envy to his companions.

It now occurred to him, with irresistible fascination, what a fine thing it would be to recover Mose Hooker's gun, and show these people what a delusion they had been laboring under all their lives.

It took Randy but a short time to make up his mind, and walking over to Mose Hocker, he asked abruptly: "Could you tell me just where your gun fell in?"

"I reckon I could if there was any need of it," was the drawling reply.

"I happened to notice my bearings at the time. I was straight down from that rock out there, and straight out from the big b.u.t.ton wood tree on yonder sh.o.r.e--right over the deepest part of the Hole."

"All right!" said Randy quietly. "Now if you will lend me your boat for about ten minutes I think I can restore you your gun."

CHAPTER XVI

A SHATTERED DELUSION

The burst of derisive laughter that greeted his proposition in no way disconcerted Randy. He waited quietly until it was over, and then repeated his request.

"Ho! ho!" cackled Daddy Perkiss; "is the lad tired of livin', or kin he breathe under water like a fish?"

"He's a stout hearted chap," cried Mose Hocker, "and sense his mind's bent on takin' a good long dive I reckon he kin have the boat. There ain't no undercurrent out there as I know of, so he ain't likely to come to harm, and besides I'm mighty anxious to git my gun back."

Here Mr. Hocker winked slyly at Daddy Perkiss and the fishermen.

The old man failed to appreciate the joke.

"It's temptin' Providence," he cried shrilly, pounding his cane on the beach. "If you ever sees that weapon agin, Mose Hocker, I'll give you ten pounds of the best plug terbacker that Bill Smith has in his store."

"That's a bargain," exclaimed Mose. "You fellows can testify to what he said."

Then turning to Randy he added with a laugh, "Don't fail me now, lad.

Ten pounds of terbacker ain't picked up every day."

"Just give me a fair show and I'll astonish you all before long,"

replied Randy, moving toward the boat. "Ned, will you go with me?" he added.

Ned willingly agreed, much to the amazement of Clay and Nugget, who expected him to oppose Randy's project with all his might. The truth of the matter was that Ned, being a sensible fellow, shared Randy's view, and was rather anxious to see the tables turned on the credulous rustics.

He was satisfied from the smooth and sluggish appearance of the water that a dive would not be attended with danger.