The Heroes of the School Part 20

"Do you intend to camp around here long?" asked Frank.

"I can't tell," replied the tramp. "I am waiting for some friends to join me."

He did not seem to recognize the boys as the ones he had met in the woods recently, or, if he did, he gave no sign of it.

"You said you were prospecting," Ned added. "Not for gold, are you?"

"Hardly," replied the ragged man with a smile. "The truth is I am a naturalist. I have heard there is a certain rare kind of b.u.t.terfly to be found along this river and I am looking for it. It is called the Oiliander Tinicander. Perhaps you have seen it in your travels."

"Guess we wouldn't know it if we saw it," remarked Ned.

"No, it takes years of study to recognize it. But if you will excuse me I think I will sit down."

He crossed his legs comfortably in front of the plate that had been placed for him, and in a few minutes the dinner was under way. The salt certainly added zest to the fried fish and the boys, as well as the tramp, ate with excellent appet.i.tes.

"Best meal I've had in a long while," said the ragged man. "I hope I can return the favor some time."

"We'll be happy to call on you," said Bart, "but we are going to leave this afternoon. We are bound up the river."

"Well, good luck to you. May I trouble you to put me on the other side?"

and he looked at Fenn who nodded in a.s.sent.

"Well that was a queer coincidence," spoke Ned, as Fenn and the tramp were in the middle of the river on the return trip. "What in the world is he doing around here? Looks as though the secret hadn't developed yet."

"We must ask Fenn what sort of headquarters he has over there,"

suggested Bart. "He'll soon be back. There I meant to ask him to sell us some salt! He's taken his back."

"We can get it at the next town," put in Frank. "We'll camp just above it."

CHAPTER XVIII

A NIGHT SCARE

"What sort of a place has he over there?" asked Bart, as Fenn came back in the canoe.

"Not much," was the reply. "I don't believe he's camping out at all. I saw some things in a pile on the ground, but they looked more like a lot of instruments than anything a man would go camping with. Besides, I didn't see any boat."

"What sort of instruments were they?" asked Ned.

"Kind I never saw before. All bra.s.s or nickle plated. Then there were some boxes. He seemed to be drying them out, so maybe he did have an upset of some sort."

"There's his boat now," called Frank, and, as the boys watched, they saw the tramp appear from the woods with a canoe on his shoulder.

The boys watched the man carefully place the frail craft in the water.

Then he went back into the woods again and came to the sh.o.r.e with something bright and shining in his hands.

"That's one of the instruments," said Fenn.

"Maybe he catches b.u.t.terflies with it," suggested Frank.

"That was a jolly he was giving us, about being a naturalist," said Bart. "He's up to some game, but I don't see that it concerns us."

"What's next on the program?" asked Ned. "Pack up and move along?"

"Rest awhile; good for the digestion," remarked Bart. "I want to see which way the tramp goes."

The boys, lying on sh.o.r.e, in the shade, saw their recent guest paddle slowly down stream. They watched him until he disappeared around a bend.

"Well, that's another link in the queer puzzle for us to solve," spoke Ned. "By the way, Frank, did you ever make any inquiries of Judge Benton about whether there was any prospect of a new trolley line going through?"

"Yes, and he said he didn't know of any. I told him about the men, but he said they might be surveyors dividing the land up into building lots.

Mr. Bender is anxious to improve his property, he said."

They broke camp and reached Woodport about five o'clock, got the salt and one or two other things they happened to think might come in handy, and resumed their journey up the river. Woodport was a small place and they soon pa.s.sed it, coming to a long stretch of water that flowed between densely wooded banks on either side.

"Good place to camp," spoke Ned. "No one to bother us. There's no fun camping close to a town."

"Not unless you run out of salt or something like that," replied Bart.

"Oh, well, one should get accustomed to doing without salt, or other things he can't have," Ned rejoined. "I believe I could get used to anything."

"Good way to feel," spoke Fenn. "I wish I could."

"It takes strength of character," Ned added.

"Don't get preachy," put in Frank.

"Say, instead of moralizing, you fellows had better be looking for a place to camp," said Fenn, who, with Frank, was rowing. "I'm getting tired."

"That looks like a good place over there," came from Bart, indicating a spot where the trees did not seem to be so thick. "Little beach, too, for the boat to ground on so it won't pound on the rocks if a wind comes up."

The craft was put over to it, and a closer inspection showed the place to be well fitted for the purpose. The rowboat was tied to an overhanging tree and the tent was soon set up. Then a place was made for the stove and some supplies set out. A big tree stump served for a table and in a little while Fenn had a good fire built.

"What's the menu?" he asked Bart.

"Open a can of chicken and we'll fry it brown," was the answer. "That, with bread and b.u.t.ter and coffee, will make a meal."

Supper was soon on the "stump" and four very hungry boys gathered around it.

"Where's the milk for the coffee?" asked Ned.

"I forgot it. It's in the boat," replied Fenn. "I'll get it."

He hurried down to where the craft was tied, and a moment later his companions heard him utter an exclamation.