Dave Porter in the Far North Part 15

"Oh, sure she'll be all right, with the sail down," added Roger.

"Wonder if there are any wild animals on this island?" questioned Shadow.

"Might be an elephant or two," answered Dave, "or half a dozen royal Bengal tigers."

"Quit your fooling, Dave. I reckon you wouldn't want to meet a bear or a wildcat any more than myself."

"No bears around here," said the senator's son. "Might be a wildcat though, or a fox. I'm going to get a good stick."

Each student provided himself with a stout stick, and then the whole crowd moved forward in the direction of the cabin in the center of the island, never dreaming of the astonishing adventure in store for them.

CHAPTER X

AN ADVENTURE ON ROBBER ISLAND

The way to the lonely cabin was not an easy one. There was no path, and they had to scramble over rough rocks and across fallen trees and through thick ma.s.ses of brushwood. They forgot about the gully, and only remembered it when they found themselves floundering in snow up to their waists.

"For gracious' sake!" cried the senator's son, as he crawled out the best way he could. "I fancied the bottom had dropped out of everything!"

"I remember this hollow now," answered Dave. "We haven't got much further to go."

It was a clear December day and quite light under the leafless trees.

There were a few evergreens scattered about, but not many, and these hung low with their weight of snow. All was intensely silent.

"This ought to be lonely enough to suit anybody," observed Henshaw. He turned to Roger. "How would you like to come out here some dark night all alone?"

"None of that for me," was the quick answer.

"Might meet a ghost," said Dave, with a smile.

"Talking of ghosts puts me in mind of a story," said Shadow. "A boy once had to go through a dark woods all alone----"

"Shadow wants to get us scared," interrupted Dave. "Oh, Shadow, I didn't think it of you! It's bad enough as it is," he went on, in seeming reproach. "Don't you know this island is haunted by the man who committed suicide here?"

"A suicide, Dave?" cried the school story-teller, forgetting all about the tale he had been on the point of relating.

"Sure. That man tried to kill his wife and seven children, and then hung himself from a tree not far from here. They say that twice a month his ghost appears."

"It's about time for the ghost now," added Roger, scenting fun. "Listen!

Didn't I hear a groan!"

"Must have been that," went on Dave. "There it is again!"

"I--I didn't hear anything," faltered Shadow. He was not an excessively brave lad at the best.

"It's getting pretty dark," continued Dave. "That is when the ghost shows itself, so I've been informed. If we---- Look! look!" he yelled, pointing over Shadow's left shoulder.

The story-teller gave a leap forward and glanced around hastily. Dave was pointing to a clump of bushes.

"Wha--what did you see?" asked Shadow, in a shaking voice.

"I don't know. It was tall and white----"

"The ghost! The ghost!" yelled Roger. "It's coming for us!" And he began to run back.

Shadow gave a scream of terror and started to run also. As if by accident, Dave allowed his foot to trip the boy up, and down went the story-teller of the Hall on his face in the snow.

"Hi! hi! Don't leave me behind!" he bawled, as the others all ran.

"Don't leave me!" and he scrambled up and tore along through the brushwood as if possessed. The others speedily halted and set up a shout of laughter, at which Shadow looked very sheepish.

"I--I only ran for the fun of the thing," he explained, lamely. "I knew all along there wasn't a ghost."

"Shadow shall lead the way," said Dave. "Go ahead, old fellow."

"I--er--I don't know the path," was the quick excuse. "You go on." And Shadow dropped behind once more and stuck there during the remainder of the trip.

The cabin was built of rough logs. It had been put up by some hunters years before, but the sportsmen, owing to the scarcity of game, did not come to the place any more. It was in a dilapidated condition, and the snow had driven in through the broken-out window and open doorway.

"Not a very cheerful place," observed Dave, as he led the way inside.

"Let us light a torch, so we can see things."

They procured several pine sticks and soon had them lit, and holding these aloft surveyed the scene. All was very much as it had been during their former visit.

"Nothing new, so far as I can see," was Roger's comment.

"Here are some footprints in the snow," came from Messmer. "We didn't make those."

"Those are the footprints of some animal!" cried Dave. "Maybe there's a bear here after all." He smiled as he made the remark.

"Looks to me more like the tracks of a horse," answered Henshaw. "Maybe somebody came over here from the sh.o.r.e on horseback."

"You want to be careful--it may be a wild beast after all," observed Shadow, nervously.

At that moment came a queer sound from outside of the cabin, which caused all of the lads to start. Messmer, who had the best of the torches, dropped it, leaving them almost in darkness.

"Why, I declare----" began Dave, when a form darkened the doorway and the next instant a big, bony mule entered the old cabin and stood among them. Some of the boys were frightened and started to retreat.

"It's only a mule!" cried Dave. "I don't think he'll hurt anybody. But how in the world did he get here?"

"His halter is broken," declared Roger. "He must have run away from somewhere."

"I know that mule," declared Shadow. "He belongs to Mike Marcy."

The man he mentioned was a farmer, living in the Oakdale district. Marcy was a close-fisted fellow who never wanted the schoolboys to have any of his fruit, and Dave, through no fault of his own, had once had considerable trouble with the fellow.