Bart Keene's Hunting Days Part 9

"Yes, mud turtles or anything else that comes our way," went on Bart.

"Yes, I think we'll have a winter camp this season, and if we do--" He stopped suddenly, and appeared to be looking at some object just ahead in the woods, for the boys were now out of the swamp proper. Bart's chums followed his gaze.

"There's a man," observed Fenn, in a low voice.

"Yes, and he seems to be looking for something," remarked Bart, guardedly. "He's poking away the leaves with a stick. Look at him."

The man was, as yet, not aware of the presence of the boys. He was walking slowly along, with his head bent over, as if eagerly scanning the ground. Now and then he poked away the dead leaves with his stick. A moment later, as the four chums could see in the little light that lingered after an early sunset, the man stooped over, and picked up something.

"A turtle! He's looking for mud turtles!" gasped Fenn, for it could be seen that the man had picked up one of the reptiles that seemed to be unusually numerous that day. Unconsciously Fenn had spoken louder than he intended, and the man heard him. He turned quickly, gave one startled look at the boys, appearing ill at ease at the unexpected meeting, and then, wheeling around, he made off through the woods, soon being lost to sight amid the trees.

"He took the turtle with him!" exclaimed Fenn. "He must be collecting them, too!"

"Yes, and did you notice who he was?" asked Bart, who appeared to be laboring under some excitement.

"No. Who?" gasped Ned.

"The mysterious stranger who entered the school just before we did--the man who shot against me at the gallery! Fellows, it's the same man--we must catch him!" and, as he had done that night in the shooting gallery, Bart darted after the stranger, followed by his chums, Fenn still carrying the turtle.

CHAPTER VII

GETTING READY FOR CAMP

"Come on, fellows!" exclaimed Bart, as he stumbled on ahead. "We mustn't lose sight of him again! There's some mystery about that man. I believe he stole the diamond bracelet."

Slipping, and almost tripping over sticks, fallen trees, stumps and stones, the chums hurried on. But the man had a number of advantages. He had a start of several hundred feet, darkness was coming on, and he evidently knew the paths through the woods better than did the boys, for when they caught occasional glimpses of him he appeared to be running at full speed, whereas they had to go slowly, and pick their way.

At last they could see him no more, and, as it seemed to grow rapidly darker, the boys were forced to give up the chase.

"Well, wouldn't that get on your nerves?" Bart demanded of his chums, as they stopped for breath. "That's the third time we've seen that man, and the second time he's gotten away."

"The next time he sees us he'll know enough to run without waiting to take a second look at us," observed Frank, grimly.

There was little use lingering longer in the woods, the chums decided, so, after a last look about, hoping for a sight of the mysterious stranger, they once more started for home. It was quite dark as they got out on the main highway, and to their great delight they saw approaching Jed Sneed, a teamster whom they knew. He readily consented to give them a ride back to town.

As they were nearing the centre of Darewell Ned exclaimed:

"By jove, I believe it's snowing! I felt a flake on my face."

"You're right," added Bart, a moment later. "It _is_ snowing," and a little flurry of white flakes confirmed his words.

"Yes, and I don't like to see it," remarked Jed, the teamster, as he cracked his whip, to hasten the pace of his horses.

"Why not?" asked Frank.

"Because it's a sign we're going to have a long, hard winter," went on the man, who was rather an odd character, and a great believer in signs of various kinds. "It's a sure sign of a hard winter when it snows just before the new moon," Jed went on. "It'll be new moon to-night, and we're going to have quite a storm. Besides it's down in my almanack that we're going to have a bad spell of weather about now. I shouldn't wonder but what we'd have quite a fall before morning," and certainly it seemed so, for the flurry was increasing.

"Sandy and those fellows will have lots of fun hunting for us," remarked Ned with a chuckle. "They'll think we've been snowed under."

"I see Sandy Merton, and two or three lads in a wagon, just before I met you chaps," observed Jed. "They asked me if I'd met you, but I hadn't--up to then. What's up? Been playing jokes on each other?"

"They tried one on us, but I think it's on them," said Bart. "Well, here's where I get off, fellows. Come over to-night, and we'll have a talk," and Bart was about to descend from the wagon, as his street was reached first.

"Hold on! Wait a minute! Don't get down on that side!" cried Jed, earnestly.

"What's the matter; is the step on this side broken?" asked Bart, in some alarm, as he hastily checked himself.

"No, but you started to get down with your left foot first," explained the teamster. "That's sure to bring the worst kind of bad luck on a fellow. My team might run away before I get two blocks further. It's a bad sign to get out with your left foot first. Don't do it."

"Oh, Jed, you're a regular old woman!" exclaimed Bart good-naturedly, for he and his chums were on familiar terms with the teamster.

Nevertheless the lad did as requested, and changed his position, so as to leave the wagon in accordance with the superst.i.tious notions of Jed.

"That's better," remarked the man, with an air of relief, as Bart descended. "Yes," he added, as he drove on, "we're going to have quite a storm."

He was right, for that night the ground was covered with the white flakes, but the thermometer did not get down very low.

After supper Bart's three chums called on him, and, a little later they received an unexpected visit from Sandy Merton and some of his friends.

The latter were much worried when they had gone back to Oak Swamp, and had failed to find a sign of the candidates whom they had initiated into the "Shamma s.h.i.+g" society.

"Say, that's a nice trick to play on a fellow," declared Sandy, indignantly, when he found that Bart and his friends were safe and snug at home. "We've been hunting all around that swamp in the dark for you, and we're all wet and muddy. Why didn't you stay there?"

"Didn't think it was healthy," observed Bart, with a chuckle. "You told us you wouldn't be back for an hour, so we concluded to leave. You should tie your ropes better, Sandy."

"We weren't going to leave you there an hour," went on the president of the secret society. "That was only a joke on you."

"Well, our coming away was only a joke on you," declared Ned with a grin. "Are we full-fledged members now, Sandy?"

"I suppose so," was the somewhat ungracious answer. Then as Sandy's chums declared that the manner in which they had been outwitted by the four chums was perfectly fair, it was agreed to call the incident closed, and consider the initiation finished.

"You're now regular members," declared Sandy, "and you can come to the meeting to-night, if you want to."

The chums went to a "hall" that had been fitted up over the barn of Sandy's uncle. It had all the features of a regular secret society meeting room, with inner and outer sentinels, a hole cut in the door, through which doubtful visitors could be scrutinized; and once inside a more or less blood-curdling ritual was gone through with. But the boys enjoyed it, and, his good nature restored by presiding at the function, Sandy told how he and his friends had been much alarmed at finding Bart and his companions missing, and how they had searched in vain for them.

A thaw, a few days after the storm, removed most of the snow, but it remained long enough for some coasting, in which our heroes took part.

Meanwhile they had made some guarded inquiries regarding the mysterious man, but had learned nothing. No one else seemed to have observed him, or, if they had, they thought nothing of it.

Nor was any trace found of the missing diamond bracelet. The police had practically given up work on the case, but the boys had not. They felt the stigma that still attached to them, and they resolved, if it was at all possible, to remove it. The parents of the lads were somewhat indignant that there should be even a suspicion against them, but there seemed to be no help for it, and Mr. Long, thinking to better matters, offered a reward for the return of the property. But he had no answers.

"Well, Bart, what about camp?" asked Ned, one cold morning in December, when an overcast sky gave promise of more snow.

"I was just thinking it was time we got down to business about it," was the reply. "I'm ready to go, if you fellows are. I've spoken to my folks, and they're willing I should take two weeks out of school, besides the regular Christmas holidays. There's not much doing the week before that vacation, and not much the one after. That will give us nearly a month--the last half of December and the first half of January."

"Good idea," commented Frank. "I'm sure I can go. Dad is going west to visit some relatives, and, as I don't care about making the trip, I'm sure he'll let me go to a winter camp."

"I haven't asked yet, but I'm sure I can go," said Fenn, and Ned was also hopeful.