The High School Boys' Fishing Trip Part 21

"I don't know whether I'm any good at judging distances," d.i.c.k whispered, "but it seemed to me that whatever exploded was not much more than three hundred yards from camp."

"About that distance, I should say," Tom agreed.

"Then we've gone about as far as the place of the explosion.

Suppose we keep very quiet and listen."

"Ugh!" grunted Greg. "I hope the earth doesn't blow up under our feet."

"Go back to camp, if you're nervous," smiled d.i.c.k, but Greg remained where he was.

"I'm going out a little way and prowl," whispered d.i.c.k, pointing in the direction he had chosen. "Tom, why don't you travel in about the opposite direction?"

Reade nodded.

"Where shall I go?" asked Greg.

"You had better remain right here," Prescott whispered. "If you should hear either of us yell for help then you could start in the direction of the sound."

"Then I'll get into those bushes," whispered Greg. "When you come back, come straight to the bushes, so I'll know that it's one of my own crowd. If any strangers appear, I'll listen to 'em if they halt near here, or trail them if they try to go past here."

d.i.c.k nodded. This seemed about the best that could be done.

Of course, back in camp, he had three more good and courageous fellows to draw upon as added forces, but with such strange doings afoot in the night it didn't seem wise to call the others away from the camp. Above all, the camp had to be watched and guarded.

In half an hour d.i.c.k returned. He had found nothing to throw light on the puzzle of the night. Tom was back already, having beaten d.i.c.k to Greg's hiding place by about two minutes.

"We may as well go back to camp," whispered Greg.

"Not much!" Prescott retorted. "If anyone is trying to do anything to us, then we want to run the mystery down and put an end to it. My idea is that the best thing we can do is to get up to the road, post ourselves at fair intervals and watch to see if anyone should pa.s.s."

"Correct!" clicked Reade. "And I think that would have been the best plan in the first instance."

"If the powder-mill explosions are to keep up through the night,"

hinted Tom, "then there ought to be another one due within a few minutes. In that case our tormentors may be getting ready to plan something now. So let's hike for the road at once."

d.i.c.k led the way, all three boys moving as noiselessly as they could. Prescott posted his friends, then chose his own post, so that they were stationed at intervals of about a hundred yards.

All had hiding places within plain view of this rough country road.

Now the time dragged again. Strain their ears as they might, none of these young outposts of d.i.c.k & Co. could hear a single suspicious sound. They must have remained there all of three quarters of an hour.

Bang! sounded a terrific crash. Tom and Greg, without showing themselves in the road, hurriedly, silently reached their leader.

"Pshaw!" uttered Prescott in disgust. "With all our care we were on the wrong side of camp to be near the explosion. Come along, now, but don't make any noise if you can help it, and don't step out into the road. We'll go straight toward that latest noise.

If it takes all summer we're simply bound to find out who is trying to blow up these woods just to scare out a few little rabbits like ourselves!"

CHAPTER XI

IN A FEVER "TO FIND OUT"

Our trio had nearly reached what they judged to be the scene of the latest explosion when d.i.c.k suddenly gave a low, sharp "hist,"

at the same time bending over to the ground while still peering ahead.

Palpitating with excitement, Tom and Greg halted, also looking.

Out of the shadow ahead emerged something only vaguely outlined in the dark. Whether wild animal or human being it would be hard to say there in the darkness. Indeed, the slight sound caused by its progress close to the road had more to do with warning d.i.c.k and his friends than anything their eyes saw at first.

"Come on!" whispered d.i.c.k, heading suddenly for the road. In a jiffy Tom and Greg were also in hot pursuit, though young Prescott managed to keep somewhat in the lead.

But the object of their pursuit took alarm, too, and gaining the road, flew like the wind.

"Hold on there, you!" challenged d.i.c.k. "We want a little conversation with you at once."

At that vocal warning the fugitive put on an even better burst of speed.

"It must be a man!" exclaimed d.i.c.k. "He evidently understood me."

"No use for you to try to get away!" shouted Reade. "We intend to get you if we have to chase you all the way to the seaboard."

That was enough to make the fugitive veer suddenly and dart in under the trees. Tom vented an exclamation of disappointment, for he knew the chances were easy for escape in the deep shadows of the forest.

At that instant d.i.c.k raised his right hand. In it he held a small stone that he had picked up at the first instant of discovering the presence of the stranger.

Now d.i.c.k threw the stone, with the best judgment that he could command in the darkness.

Ahead there went up a cry, as though of pain. Then all three pursuers distinctly heard an angry voice say!

"Hang him! He hit me in the heel!"

If there were any reply to this from a confederate of the injured fugitive neither d.i.c.k nor his chums heard it.

After a minute all three stopped at a low uttered order from young Prescott.

"Hus.h.!.+" whispered d.i.c.k.

"s.h.!.+" confirmed Tom Reade.

As they stood there in the forest not a sound of another human being was audible.

For some five minutes the trio of high school boys stood without stirring from their tracks.

"We've lost the trail," whispered d.i.c.k at last. "We could remain here, of course, waiting for more things to happen, but my belief is that daylight would find us still standing here, like so many foiled dummies. We might as well return to camp. What do you think?"

"Yes; we'd better go back to camp," a.s.sented Tom.

"I'm agreeable," murmured Greg