The Outdoor Chums in the Forest.

by Quincy Allen.

CHAPTER I

A QUESTION OF NERVE

"That's a likely yarn, Sandy. I tell you I don't believe in ghosts."

"All right. You can say what you like, Bluff Masters, but Caleb declares he saw it."

"Oh, shucks! He must have been dreaming."

"Guess you never had any experience with that sort of things."

"Only once, and that time it turned out to be a crazy man. Since then I've got my opinion of any fellow who takes stock in ghost stories."

"Think you're mighty brave just because you've got that old gun of yours along--been having it at the locksmith's again, I reckon. Seems like it's there half the time, getting some tinkering done. I dare you to go out to Oak Ridge and settle this ghost question once for all. There you are, and it's either take me up, or back down off that high horse."

"Vacation's set in, and my chums don't seem to know just where to go.

Tell you what, I've got a good notion to put it up to the crowd right away."

"Talk is cheap, Bluff. I'll believe it when I hear of you fellows going.

So long," and the speaker, a boy who attended the same school in Centerville that Bluff did, walked down the main street of the little town that lay on Lake Camalot.

Bluff looked after him for a minute, as though he might be turning the daring project over in his mind. Then he fondled the repeating shotgun he was carrying, as if he resented the slur the other had cast upon its good qualities.

"Say, now, perhaps that would be a dandy idea, all right. Some people take considerable stock in that blooming old ghost story, and I reckon it would make a lot of silly ones sleep sounder if we went out and learned that the thing was only a fake after all. Wonder what the rest of the boys would say if I proposed it. And Will, he'd declare he wanted to take a snapshot of the ghost with his camera."

The idea seemed to amuse the boy, for he laughed softly to himself as he once more shouldered his gun, took a new grip on the package of ammunition he was carrying home, and again started along the main street of the town.

It was a July morning. School was out, the Glorious Fourth was but a memory, and the boys were trying to make suitable plans for spending their vacation in various little outings of a character to suit their love for the open.

There were an unusual number of people on the street that morning, Bluff noticed. A circus was in town, and they had promised a street parade at some time before noon, so that the boys and girls haunted the main thoroughfare in large and constantly increasing numbers.

Now Bluff liked to see such an exhibition just as well as the next one, but he believed he had plenty of time to get home with his gun and come back again.

A little further on he came face to face with a rough-looking fellow about his own age, whose freckled countenance took on a sneer at sight of the gun which Bluff carried.

"See yuh been repairin' the little old shootin'-iron again, Bluff. Think yuh happen tuh be some punkins because once yuh held up some of my crowd with that stick when we happened to be empty-handed. Sho! yuh can be brave enough when it's all one-sided, but turn the tables around an' I bet you'd run faster than we did over on Wildcat Island," said this worthy, as he stopped in front of the other.

Bluff belonged to a club of four boys who had formed plans to spend their vacations in the open whenever possible. They called it the Rod, Gun and Camera Club, and when a convenient storm tore off the roof from half the Academy, the previous October, necessitating a short session of holidays, they had gone up into the woods to camp, as told in the first volume of this series, ent.i.tled "The Outdoor Chums; or, First Tour of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club."

Here they were constantly annoyed by a crowd of town idlers, under the leadership of one Andy Lasher, and the four chums pa.s.sed through a series of the most entertaining adventures, such as pleases all boys who love excitement. These three comrades of Bluff were named Frank Langdon, Jerry Wallington and Will Milton, the latter being a camera crank of the first water, always ready to sacrifice his comfort and time if there was any hope of securing a picture to commemorate the event.

During their outing, Jerry, being lost in the woods during a storm, succeeded in saving the life of Andy, who after that refused to continue his mean tactics of plaguing the chums, so that the leadership of the opposition fell upon another fellow, the same Pet Peters who was now jeering Bluff.

When the Easter week of holidays came, in early April, the chums had decided to spend a portion of the time camping on a timber-covered island near the foot of the ten-mile lake, and which was seldom visited by any one on account of the stories told about the vast number of wildcats to be found there, as well as the wild man who had been seen at various times. A fire on the little steamboat plying the lake, and the robbery of a pa.s.senger, played an important part in the exciting events that occurred while the chums were at Wildcat Island, all of which, including the solving of the mystery connected with the wild man, have been set down in the second volume of this series, called "The Outdoor Chums on the Lake; or, Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island."

As can be seen from what Bluff said, the boys were a bit uncertain as to where they should go during the early part of vacation time. Later on they expected to separate, as Will was to accompany his widowed mother to the seash.o.r.e, and two of the others also had plans after the same kind; but for a couple of weeks they wanted some little, delightful camping experience, not too far away.

Bluff secretly had a contempt for Pet Peters. Still, he knew the other was an antagonist not to be lightly esteemed, and that once he set his mind on a thing he could hardly be called off. The trouble was, as a rule, his object proved to be a vindictive one, rather than worthy of praise.

"Oh, I don't pretend to be a hero," said Bluff, as he gave the other boy look for look, "and I'll put you wise to that right here. But when it comes to a pinch, and some mighty mean fellows are trying to play tricks on me and my chums, I can hold my own, all right. This gun may be unlucky about getting out of order too often, but she can scatter the shot, and is all to the good. You want to fight shy of her, Pet, that's all."

"Say, they named yuh all right when they called yuh Bluff. Sometimes these yer windbags they get punctured like. Take care that don't happen to you. I reckon the parade must be comin', ter judge from all the racket along yonder. Better fall in front and let the people of Centerville see the great hero, hey?"

Bluff had turned his head to look. If what the other said were true, then he would have no time to go home and leave his gun.

There did seem to be considerable excitement just at the bend in the street, and it was growing greater with the pa.s.sage of every second. Men were running, shouting, and making for the sidewalks. Some caught up small children in their arms. Every one appeared tremendously stirred, as though an event far out of the common were about to occur.

Bluff laughed.

"Seems like people get crazier every year over the old circus. I understand this is a b.u.m one, anyway. Look at 'em scoot! They couldn't act more like a lot of loons if the elephant had broken loose and was on the warpath. I don't hear the band playing, do you, Pet?" he said.

"No, I don't. And I reckon there's somethin' gone wrong around that bend in the street. Them fellers wouldn't act that way, else. See that fat woman tumble over, will yuh! Now she rolls like a barrel to the pavement. She's nigh about scairt to death, I tell yuh! What kin it be?"

exclaimed Pet.

By this time Bluff was aroused. He realized that all this tremendous excitement could not have been caused by the near approach of the circus parade. There was the sedate head of the Academy footing it for the shelter of a shoeshop as if he had entered for a hundred-yard dash.

Heads were appearing at all the windows, and now shrieks began to be added to the clamor.

Bluff wondered if he were dreaming. Had all Centerville gone crazy?

There was an asylum over at Merrick, but since when had its inmates broken loose and taken up quarters in Centerville?

If he had not been gripping his gun and that package of sh.e.l.ls, Bluff might have rubbed his eyes to find out if he were really and truly awake.

"Run! run!"

It sounded as though a dozen people were shouting that word. Why should they want to get others to run? Had the lion broken out of his cage, and was he coming down the street, looking for victims?

Some boys were climbing trees with mad haste. Perhaps they did not as yet fully understand the need of such a retreat, but in time of danger it seems natural for the ordinary boy to find refuge in a tree, as though he were, in truth, descended from monkey ancestors.

Now for the first time they caught other words that were being shouted by the panic-stricken people along the street, as they rushed hither and thither, anxious to find shelter somewhere.

"Mad dog! Mad dog!"

Pet Peters gave a howl of fear. He was greatly afraid of all dogs, and the very idea of a mad cur caused him to turn white and show his craven blood.

He made a wild rush for the nearest tree, and clambered into the lower branches with a speed that would have won a medal in a race.

Bluff wanted to follow after him. He felt his nerves quivering with fright, and as he started to run his knees showed an inclination to knock together.

There was the choirmaster, Mr. Melod, chasing across the street, and heading for the milliner's establishment opposite. He was usually a very dignified man, but just then, with his hat fallen off, and fear written upon his face, he startled Bluff not a little.

"Run, Richard! Come this way, my boy!" he called, beckoning wildly; for Bluff had come to a sudden pause in the middle of the road as a sudden terrible thought flashed into his mind.

He had a gun in his hands, and ammunition in plenty. Pet Peters had just called him next door to a coward, who could only show valor when everything was on his side. Who was to stop this mad dog in his career?