Dave Porter and the Runaways Part 42

"I guess the best thing I can do is to move right around the sh.o.r.e of this island," he reasoned. "By doing that I am bound to strike one of the camps, sooner or later."

He moved along as rapidly as the rocky sh.o.r.e of Moosetail Island permitted. He had to proceed with care, for there were many dangerous pitfalls.

At length his heart was gladdened by the sight of a rude log cabin, set in the trees a little back from the water. He hurried to it and found the door and window closed. Evidently the spot was deserted.

"n.o.body here," he murmured, and his heart sank for the moment, for he could see that the camp had not been used for a long time. Then he went on, the rain in the meanwhile coming down harder than ever. The downfall made him think of the dam that was said to be weak. What if the present storm should make that structure give way?

"I wish we were all out of this," he murmured. "I wonder if it would do any good to call?"

He set up a yell and listened, and then he yelled again. From a long distance came an answering cry.

"Hurrah, that's somebody, anyway!" he exclaimed. "I hope it was one of the boys!"

He stumbled in the direction of the cry. Then he yelled once more, and again came the answering call. But now Dave was sure it was a man's voice, and he was somewhat disappointed.

"Where are you?" he called out, a moment later. "Where are you?"

"This way! Come this way!" was the reply, and soon Dave pa.s.sed through a patch of timber and around some rocks and reached a spot where there was a tiny cove, with a stretch of fine sand. Facing the cove was a neat log cabin with a small lean-to, the latter containing a tiny stove.

A tall, good-natured man stood in the lean-to, peering out into the rain. He watched Dave's approach with interest. He looked to be what he was, a camp-cook and general worker.

"h.e.l.lo!" he exclaimed, as Dave hurried in out of the rain and shook the water from his cap. "I thought you were one of our crowd."

"What camp is this?" questioned our hero, eagerly.

"Well, it ain't no camp in particular," answered the man, with a grin.

"It's jest a camp."

"But who is stopping here?"

"Three young fellers and myself."

"Are their names Beggs, Lawrence, and Ba.s.swood?"

"You've struck it. Maybe you are a friend to 'em?" went on the man, inquiringly.

"I am, and I have come a long distance to find them," returned Dave, and his tone of voice showed his relief. "Where are they?"

"They left the camp right after dinner an' they ain't back yet. When you called I thought it was one of 'em, although they didn't expect to be back much before supper-time. But now it's rainin' I guess they'll come back sooner."

"How long have they been here?"

"Most a week now, I guess. I didn't come till day before yesterday. I didn't have nothin' to do an' they give me a job, cookin' an' like that," returned the man.

He invited Dave to make himself at home, and our hero was glad enough to go inside and take off the wet raincoat and also his shoes and socks. The baggage belonging to Phil and the others was in the cabin, and he helped himself to dry garments and a dry pair of slippers.

"We are all school chums," he told the man. "My name is Dave Porter."

"Oh, I heard 'em talkin' about you!" cried the camp-worker, and then said his own name was Jerry Blutt, and that he was from Tegley, just across the Canadian border.

"We are not far from the border here, are we?" asked our hero.

"About six miles, thet's all," answered Jerry Blutt, and this reply gave Dave another idea. More than likely Buster and the others had chosen this spot so that, if pursued by the officers of the law, they could flee into Canada.

Jerry Blutt said the three lads had spent their time in various ways, occasionally going fis.h.i.+ng and swimming. They had also written some letters and gone to the railroad station to mail them in the box placed there for that purpose.

"Have they been having a good time?" asked Dave, curiously.

"I can't say as to that, Mr. Porter. They did seem mighty worried over something," answered the camp worker, and from this our hero felt certain that the man had not been let into the secret of why the runaways were there at all.

Half an hour went by and it continued to rain as hard as ever, while the sky remained dark and the wind blew with more or less violence.

Time and again Dave went to the cabin door, to peer out into the storm, but each time he turned back disappointed. His chums were not yet in sight.

"They'll be surprised to see me," he thought. "I wonder if they will listen to reason and go back with me? Supposing they refuse to return?

I'd hate to go back alone."

Then he questioned Jerry Blutt about the dam above the Falls. The man shrugged his shoulders.

"It ain't safe, so they tell me," he said. "But it's been that way a long time, so maybe it won't break away yet awhile. But I'd hate to be on the river when she does go."

"Are there any other camps on this island?" went on our hero.

"Not now. There was some other folks, two or three parties, I was told, but they all moved out yesterday an' the day before. Maybe they got afraid o' the dam," concluded the camp-worker.

CHAPTER XXIV

OUT IN THE STORM

"This is getting to be something fierce!"

It was Dave who uttered the words, about five o'clock in the afternoon. He was looking out of the door of the cabin, and beside him stood Jerry Blutt.

The storm had kept up without intermission, the rain coming down in a perfect torrent, and the wind blowing in fitful gusts from the east.

It was raw and depressing, and our hero could not help but s.h.i.+ver as he looked out on the turbulent waters of the river.

"It's a pity them fellers ain't got back," said the camp-worker, with a slow shake of his head. "It ain't nice to be out in sech a downpour as this, an' with sech a wind! Might a tree blow down on 'em!" And he shook his head again.

Dave was even more distressed than the man. He could not get that dam out of his mind. Such a heavy fall of rain would certainly cause a great flow of water, and if the structure was weak, most anything bad was liable to happen.

"As soon as the boys get back I'll urge them to leave here," he told himself. "If that dam breaks we want to be on high ground, where the flood can't reach us."

"'Pears to me like the river was gittin' putty high," remarked Jerry Blutt, a little later, as he watched the water in the cove closely.

"Well, it would rise some with all this rain coming down," returned Dave.