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But the face that you describe, Danny, is the one that I also saw. Pa.s.s back the paddle, please. I want a little exercise."
Tom still had the paddle when he shot the canoe in close to the camp.
"Any luck?" called Dave, who had already returned with a string of perch.
"Catch any ba.s.s?" was d.i.c.k's question.
"Did you even see anything?" laughed Greg Holmes.
"Did we see anything?" groaned Tom, as he sent the canoe's prow to land.
"Danny looks as though he had been seeing all sorts of things,"
chuckled Hazelton, as Dalzell stepped ash.o.r.e.
"Don't ask me," gasped Danny Grin, with a shudder.
At this the faces of those who had remained behind sobered instantly.
"You won't eat any supper, if we tell you," Tom declared, as he came ash.o.r.e while Dave held the painter of the canoe.
"I'll accept that challenge," laughed Prescott, as Dave and Tom drew the collapsible canoe up on sh.o.r.e. "Fire away as soon as you're ready, Mr. Reade."
Perch and potatoes were frying, coffee bubbling and d.i.c.k had been mixing some kind of boiled pudding that he had learned to make so that it would not cause acute indigestion.
"Better wait until after supper," Reade advised.
"No; we want the story now," Prescott declared firmly.
So Reade told of the strange apparition they had seen, with many additions to the tale from Danny.
"I decline to shudder," a.s.serted Dave.
"That's just because you've only heard about the face, instead of seeing it," Tom muttered.
"d.i.c.k, what do you make of the whole affair?" asked Greg.
"I only wish I could guess the answer," Prescott made answer solemnly, "but I can't."
"What are we going to do about it?" asked Tom Reade.
"Let it alone," proposed Harry Hazelton.
"No, we won't," said d.i.c.k promptly. "Not unless we have to, just because of inability to find out anything. Fellows, it's too late to try to do anything in the darkness to-night. If the man were drowned, we couldn't help him, anyway. But we'll go over there to-morrow and try to find out whether there is any other answer to the riddle."
"You won't need any supper to-night, anyway," declared Reade, in a tone of grim triumph.
"That is where you lose," Prescott answered quietly. "You'll be hungry, too, Tom, when the food goes on the table."
However, neither Reade nor Danny Grin ate very heartily that evening.
Every few moments the haunting face rose before their memories.
It proved a dull evening, too, in camp. The sky became overcast.
It looked so much like rain that d.i.c.k & Co. voted in favor of retiring early.
First of all, however, the canoe was hauled into the tent for safety. Then, with only one lantern burning dimly, six st.u.r.dy but wondering high school boys rolled themselves in their blankets.
Just as five of them were dozing off uneasily Dave Darrin's voice sounded quietly:
"That thing couldn't have been a joke rigged up on us, could it?"
"A joke?" rumbled Reade. "No, sir! That face was real enough to suit the most particular individual. No, sir; that face wasn't a joke, nor did the face look as though the man to whom it belonged had ever heard a joke in all his life."
"Suppose you fellows shut up until the sun is shining again,"
proposed Danny Grin, who had been fidgeting restlessly in his blanket.
"That's right," agreed d.i.c.k blandly. "All ghost stories ought to be told in the broad daylight."
"Just the same-----" Tom began.
"Shut up---_please_!" came a chorus of protest.
All was quiet after that. Hours must have pa.s.sed. All the boys were sleeping at least fairly well when air and earth shook with a mighty explosion.
Instantly six bewildered high school boys leaped to their feet in alarm.
CHAPTER X
POWDER MILLS, OR JUST WHAT?
"If that's a thunderstorm," muttered Greg Holmes, barely half awake, "then it's going to be a dandy!"
But d.i.c.k seized him by one arm and shook him.
"Come to your senses, Greg! That wasn't thunder."
"No; but what was it?" wondered Dave.
"I'm going to dress and find out," rejoined d.i.c.k st.u.r.dily. He sat on the edge of his canvas cot and began to pull on his clothing.
BANG! All were awake enough now to appreciate fully the force of this second jarring explosion.
"I wonder if there are any powder works off in this wilderness?"
asked Danny Grin.
But d.i.c.k, who had now dressed as fully as he intended to do, save for the lacing of his shoes, now came back from the doorway of the tent with the lantern, the wick of which he was turning up.