The Outdoor Chums In The Forest Part 3

"Any use of posting a sentry to-night?" asked Jerry, as they lay around, and a few yawns attested to the fact that they were getting sleepy.

"Well, not unless you think that ghost may be wandering far away from his usual stamping-grounds. I shouldn't think we could look for any other trouble out here, so far from the railroad and town," declared Frank.

"All the same, I think we ought to have some sort of system. It's generally understood that we intended coming out here, and how do we know but what that Pet Peters and his crowd may be mean enough to sneak up on us and stone our camp? They did it before, you remember, fellows,"

protested Bluff.

"I hope you don't think of cracking away at human beings the way you did at that big yellow dog, Bluff. Please don't get the habit; it's hard to break."

"Kindly refrain, Frank; or, as Pet would say, 'Aw, come off your perch!'

I'm always willing to give any one of those fellows a good scare at any time, but you know I wouldn't want to hurt even Pet himself, unless he forced me," returned Bluff, quickly dropping the gun he had been fondling so affectionately.

"Well, if you fellows are so bent on trying to prove to Will and I which one has the biggest lungs, I suppose we'll have to surrender our right to have a turn at those rubber bags, and let you try again. Help me lay them out, Will, and don't look so envious. When they get tired of this thing we can have a chance."

"Don't worry about that, Frank. I shall never get tired of beating Bluff at that good old game. Just watch me run away from him."

But Jerry, to his surprise, was declared to fall just short of being a winner, and he had to listen to the taunts of his rival, and determine that on the next night he would be in better trim.

The fire was fixed to hold out several hours. Bluff, despite his declaration that he meant to keep awake, and watch, crawled into one of the tents and snuggled down under a blanket, since the night air was cool, even for July.

So the silence of slumber presently fell upon the camp by the wayside.

It must have been about midnight when Frank was awakened by a tremendous neighing on the part of old Peter, the horse, fastened to a tree near by.

Thinking the beast might have become caught in the rope, and need attention, Frank crawled out of the tent. The fire was low, and darkness hovered over the camp.

Just as he appeared, to his astonishment he saw the kettles and coffee-pot, as well as every frying-pan in camp, begin to creep along the ground in a long line, and then ascend toward the branches of the tree, in jangling unison.

CHAPTER IV

THINGS BEGIN TO HAPPEN

"Talk to me about that!" exclaimed Jerry, as he thrust his head out from the tent.

"What's it all mean?" demanded Will, still half asleep, while crawling forth.

"I knew it would come! What did I say, fellows? They're at their old tricks, all right!" cried Bluff. "Where's my gun?"

Frank understood, after that one moment of utter astonishment. He realized that it was a trick on the part of some one who must have crept into their camp while they slept. This unknown had fastened all the camp cooking outfit to a rope, and this in turn had been thrown over a limb of a tree, the other end being grasped by the jokers.

A series of pulls had carried that string of pans and kettles up into the air, where they jangled against each other as the cord was violently drawn up and then lowered suddenly.

Frank sprang forward. He could give a shrewd guess as to where the parties lay who took such delight in pestering himself and the chums, and he was just then in a frame of mind to visit severe punishment if he could only lay his indignant hands upon them.

He had not taken three steps when he measured his length upon the ground, while a chorus of heavy laughs announced that this was a part of the program on the part of those who had actually followed all the way from town on purpose to annoy them.

Another rope had been stretched across in front of the tents, with the idea of tripping any one, should they rush out in hot haste.

It was all in the game, and Frank, while he barked his nose and bruised his elbows and knees, knew full well he should have exercised a little more caution.

He sprang to his feet full of vim.

There was a dreadful crash behind that gave him a shock, until he realized that it must come from the cooking utensils being dropped in a heap as those who had held the other end of the cord let go in order to seek safety in flight.

Bluff by this time had appeared in view, hugging his pet repeater in his arms.

He banged away with a vim, and several shots made the echoes ring through the adjacent woods.

"They're gone," announced Frank, limping back to the vicinity of the fire.

"Did they hurt you?" demanded Bluff indignantly, as he saw Frank rubbing his barked shins.

"Well, not so that you could notice; but I fell over that rope you saw Jerry go down across, and which those rascals stretched here for that purpose. Nothing serious, beyond a few scratches," returned the other, forcing a smile.

"I wonder if they mean to follow us all the way and keep up this racket?" said Bluff. "Are we ever going to camp out without that crowd pestering us like a flock of hornets?"

"Wow! Talk to me about that, will you? A flock of hornets is good--for you, Bluff. I've got a few b.u.mps myself, tumbling over that beastly rope. And what a ghastly trick, to tie up all our cooking things that way! The fellow who originated that joke ought to be put in the funny house over at Merrick," said Jerry.

"I hope they haven't dented all your nice aluminum ware, Frank,"

remarked Will.

"That would be a shame, and I value it so. But investigation doesn't seem to prove any serious damage, for which I'm glad."

"Hey, Frank, if you're getting out the arnica bottle, just remember that there are two of us in the same boat, will you?" sang out Jerry, also rubbing his legs.

"What did I say, fellows, about keeping guard? I tell you it's the only safe way when such a determined scamp as that Pet Peters is around. And after this I think we ought to make a regular practice of taking turns.

I'm willing to sit up my share," went on Bluff.

"Did you try to tickle them with your shot?" demanded Jerry.

"No; only meant to give them a little scare, and let 'em know we carried guns with us this time."

"I feel just cross enough to wish you could have punctured them a little--not enough to hurt much, you understand, for I'm not a savage; but they need a lesson, and that might have done the business," Jerry continued.

The camp soon quieted down, and there was no further alarm.

When morning came they found that no particular damage had resulted from the trick played by the town crowd that usually tagged after Pet Peters.

"I didn't hear Pet's sweet, melodious voice last night, come to think of it," remarked Frank, as they ate their breakfast and discussed the exciting events of the first night out.

"Nor I. Perhaps he was smart enough to keep silent and let the rest do the shouting. Anyhow, we're in about thirty feet of pretty good line,"

laughed Jerry.

"They took the one we had on old Peter, to keep him from straying, and made that tripper out of it. As you say, Jerry, this other is strange in our camp, and they must have fetched it along. It may come in handy; who knows?" said philosophical Frank, always ready to get the best there was out of troubles.