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Chapter 2
Supply and Demand
Multiple Choice
1) The mechanism by which buyers and sellers negotiate an exchange is called a/an
A) equilibrium.
B) model.
C) market.
D) meeting.
Answer: C
2) The supply and demand model examines the how prices and quantities are determined
A) in markets.
B) by governments.
C) by churches.
D) by monopolists.
Answer: A
4) Ebay does not qualify as a market for the good being sold because it is not a specific
physical location.
A) True
B) False
Answer: B
5) On the Heritage Foundation's scale of “Economic Freedom,” the least “free” country would
be that one who's economic system was purely
A) capitalist.
B) socialist.
C) utilitarian.
D) communist.
Answer: D
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8) Economists argue that markets serve the interests of society primarily because
A) consumers are made better off (regardless of whether producers are made better off).
B) producers are made better off (regardless of whether consumers are made better off).
C) both consumers and producers are made better off.
D) money is made available for government.
Answer: C
9) Economists know that consumers and producers are both made better off than they would be
without free exchange because the exchanges are
A) mandated by government.
B) voluntary.
C) able to make consumers better off by an amount that compensates producers for their
losses.
D) able to make producers better off by an amount that compensates consumers for their
losses.
Answer: C
10) The group of people who are willing to provide goods and services in exchange for money
are called
A) profiteers.
B) benefactors.
C) consumers.
D) producers.
Answer: D
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document may not be copied, scanned, duplicated, forwarded, distributed, or posted on a website, in whole or part.
11) The group of people who are willing to offer money in exchange for goods and services are
called
A) profiteers.
B) benefactors.
C) consumers.
D) producers.
Answer: C
12) The price at which the amount consumers wish to purchase equals the amount firms wish to
sell is called the
A) equilibrium quantity.
B) equilibrium price.
C) optimal quantity.
D) optimal result.
Answer: B
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every summer without a single drowning. Parents may feel perfectly safe in
allowing their boys to spend a term at such well protected camps.”
“I shall never hear three blasts from a whistle again,” said Mr. Holwell,
“but that I shall think of this time up here.”
“Indeed, sir,” continued Mr. Rowland, “I understand that some of the
young volunteer life-savers on returning to the city after a summer in the
woods, confess to having a shock whenever they hear a whistle. When the
emergency call sounds, no matter whether in the midst of the swimming
hour or at dead of night, the rule is to drop everything and run.”
Dick had noticed that Asa Gardner seemed to be enjoying himself
greatly when in the water. He was turning out to be a clever swimmer.
Evidently, the boy had included this in his programme when he decided to
take all the open air exercise he could. Dick mentioned the fact to Peg while
they were dressing as fast as they could, urged on to speed by the odor of
breakfast that was in the air.
“Why, yes,” the other boy remarked, immediately, “that fellow acts as if
he had sprung from a fish family.”
“What makes you say that?” demanded Dick, smiling at the same time
on account of the queer way Peg had of describing things.
“Oh! only that he seems to go fairly wild when he gets in the lake,” was
the reply. “Eddie Grant says he really believes Asa can stay under water
longer than any fellow he ever knew. And did you see him dive off that high
tree stump overhanging the edge of the deep hole? He turned a complete
somersault in the air, and struck the water as clean as a knife. Mr. Rowland
complimented him on his feat, though he also cautioned Asa to be careful
not to overdo it.”
“Yes, Asa is improving right along,” confessed Dick. At the same time
he could not help wondering deep down in his mind whether the strange
boy could be as successful in overcoming his one terrible fault as he seemed
to be in regaining his health. For somehow Dick could not quite forget
about the shadowy figure that had vanished from his sight on the preceding
night, not far from the tent where he knew Asa had been quartered.
“I never thought he had it in him,” admitted Peg; “but I’m ready to say
Asa is beginning to pick up considerably, and show the stuff he’s made of.”
It was kind of Peg to say that, for, truth to tell, as Dick well knew, the
other had had good reasons in the past for looking on the lonely boy with
anything but friendly feelings. But then Peg could never hold anything
against another who showed signs of being sorry for faults. Peg believed in
giving every one a second, yes, even a third, chance to make amends.
After finishing his dressing and coming outside again, Dick looked
toward the tent which Mr. Holwell occupied. He knew the minister must be
dressing, for he had seen him peer out once. Perhaps he was shaving, for he
had laughingly said on the previous night that he hoped they did not have
any iron-bound rules in the camp prohibiting brushing the hair, or using a
razor during the whole stay, such as he had heard was the case with some
outing parties.
Just then Dan came along, and stopped to exchange a few words with
Dick.
“To-morrow being Sunday, I expect we’ll be pretty quiet up here,” he
observed; “so we ought to do all we can to-day. The fellows who go fishing
will have to try to get a double quantity, if we think to have a course dinner
to-morrow. I’m one of the six selected by Mr. Bartlett to go over to that
farm we heard about. If we can buy a few chickens or ducks or anything in
that line, don’t you think we’d better go prepared to dicker?”
“Not a bad scheme, Dan,” Dick told him. “And don’t forget that while
there are just twenty-one of us all told, besides Mr. Holwell, Mr. Bartlett
and our physical director, we’ve got the storage capacity of twice that
number.”
“Oh! we’ll take on all the supplies we can stagger under, make up your
mind to that, Dick. But here comes Mr. Holwell straight this way, and, tell
me, doesn’t he look kind of queer? I wonder if anything could have
happened to him in the night.”
Dick almost held his breath as the minister hurriedly drew near them.
“A ridiculous thing has happened to me, Dick,” remarked the minister,
as he reached them. “The very first night I’m in camp I have been guilty of
the fault of carelessness. To tell you the truth, I am unable to find my gold
watch this morning, though Harry Bartlett thinks I wound it up as usual, and
hung my vest upon a nail driven part way into the tent pole.”
Dick felt as though a cold hand had clutched his heart. He and Peg
exchanged anxious looks, but before either of them could say a word Mr.
Holwell went on.
“I wouldn’t care so much, you understand, boys, only it was presented
to me years ago by my people in a church of which I formerly had charge,
and consequently I value it many times over its intrinsic worth. But, of
course, I have mislaid it. I’ll go back once more and turn things over. The
chances are I’ll find it where I placed it. On account of my strange quarters
and having no regular spot for it, I must have dropped it down at random
and don’t know just where.”
CHAPTER XIV
TRYING TO FIGURE IT OUT
Dick knew it would not come out that way. He seemed to “feel it in his
bones” as he told Leslie afterwards, that the terrible mystery with which
they had been confronted on their first night in camp, was closing around
them with even a tighter grip.
When Mr. Holwell had left them to hasten back to his tent Dick and Dan
looked at one another with blank expressions on their faces.
“Whew!” gasped the latter. “Say, Dick, this is what I call piling it on
thick.”
“It begins to look like a bad business I must admit,” returned the other,
trying to grasp the situation fully.
“All these things couldn’t just happen by accident, you see,” continued
Dan, as if arguing with himself. “Mr. Holwell is a careful man, and
wouldn’t be guilty of leaving so valuable a watch around loose, so it could
be mixed up with the bed clothes in his tent. I tell you we’re up against a
real old-fashioned mystery, and no mistake.”
“There’s something queer going on around this camp, for a fact,” said
Dick, and taking advantage of the fact that they were alone for a brief time
he confided to Dan what he had seen during the night on coming suddenly
out of his tent.
The other was deeply impressed by the story. His eyes grew round with
wonder and curiosity.
“Let’s go over to Mr. Holwell’s tent and see if we can help him hunt,”
he proposed presently. “I used to be a master-hand at finding lost things,
and mebbe my luck may hold good in this case.”
“I certainly hope it will, Dan. Nothing would tickle me more than to
have you unearth that watch somewhere in his tent. All the same I don’t
believe it can be done.”
“Well, there’s no use crying over spilt milk, anyhow,” said Dan with
philosophy.
When the two boys reached the minister’s tent they met Mr. Holwell,
accompanied by Mr. Bartlett and Mr. Rowland, coming out. The minister
looked a little grave and deeply puzzled, though on seeing the expression of
anxiety on the faces of the two lads he smiled encouragingly.
“We haven’t been able to find it so far, boys,” he remarked. “Suppose
you step in and root around a bit. Young eyes are sharper than older ones. I
hope it turns up, because I should very much dislike to lose anything that
was endeared to me by so many precious memories.”
Although Dick and Dan turned everything upside-down, they failed to
discover any sign of the lost watch. Breakfast was soon announced and they
were forced to abandon the search.
Some of the other boys had noticed that something unusual had
happened. The doings of Dick and Dan had struck them as suspicious,
especially after their previous experience.
Accordingly, Harry Bartlett, knowing that there was no use of trying to
keep things secret, announced the new catastrophe that had befallen
Russabaga Camp. It came like a thunderbolt upon the assembled boys, who
exchanged puzzled and anxious looks, as though a great fear had fallen
upon them.
Conversation languished after that. It was as though a wet blanket had
been suddenly cast upon them. Every one was busy with his own thoughts,
wondering if it could be possible that the dreadful finger of suspicion
pointed anywhere in his direction.
Mr. Holwell it was after all who, laughing as though he did not have a
care in the world, started to raise their spirits.
“Come, this will never do,” he told them. “You look as if you had lost
all interest in life. We mustn’t let a thing like this spoil the whole outing.
Doubtless in good time the mystery will be cleared up. And now let’s talk
of all our good friends here, Mr. Bartlett and Mr. Rowland, have planned to
do to-day.”
By degrees he had the boys looking much more cheerful, though when
they got together in clumps after the meal, the conversation was naturally
almost wholly of the last strange happening.
Nat and his two cronies were seen talking earnestly. Some of the others
could hazard a pretty good guess as to what must be troubling the trio. This
was a time when a person’s past reputation was going to come back to
haunt him. Nat, aided and abetted by Dit and Alonzo, had engineered
numerous dubious enterprises in times that were gone, some of them of a
questionable nature. And now being reproached by their consciences, they
felt that the others must of a certainty be eyeing them with suspicion.
Alonzo showed signs of wanting to desert the camp at once, being only
restrained from doing so by the stronger wills of his companions, who
realized that this action would look too much like guilt.
Altogether it was not a very happy lot that proceeded to take up the
various duties laid out for that morning, and in doing which they had
expected to enjoy themselves hugely.
After the excitement had died down the six who had been selected to
visit the farm went off in one of the two boats. And while the chosen
fishermen were making deft use of the mosquito-net seine in order to secure
minnows for bait, Dick found an opportunity to have a little talk with Mr.
Holwell.
Eddie Grant, Ban Jansen and Cub Mannis, with tin pails in their hands,
hurried past, looking as though they meant business.
“We have found where the blueberries are as thick as clover in a field,”
called Ban. “It’ll be an easy job filling these pails by noon. Never saw such
big berries as there are on this island. It’ll be a picnic getting stacks and
stacks of ’em, and we can pay our way easily as we go.”
Mr. Holwell looked at Dick on hearing this, as though he did not quite
understand. Accordingly, the boy hastened to explain that Mr. Nocker had
proposed that boys belonging to the association who wanted to go on the
camping trip and could not spare the ready money to pay for their share of
the expenses should earn enough while on the island by picking the
blueberries that found a ready market in Cliffwood.
“That’s a very good scheme,” declared the minister, smiling. “And it
shows that our friend, Mr. Nocker, knows more about boys than some of us
gave him credit for. Of course he could have offered to pay the way of
Eddie and the rest, but after all it’s the wise thing to do to make boys feel
that they have earned things, and are not objects of charity.”
“Of course,” Dick went on to explain, “that sort of thing is unusual, and
will break in on some of the customary rules that govern all Y. M. C. A.
camps. But Mr. Bartlett says that after all this is only a beginning, and on
that account we can’t expect to do everything with perfect regularity.”
“Another year,” said Mr. Holwell, “it may perhaps be different. We will
find some way whereby a score or two of the mill hands can spend a week
or two up at a regularly organized camp. And when we get things to
working smoothly, such an outing is bound to be of great benefit to
everybody concerned. I’m in it heart and soul, and so is Mr. Nocker.”
“I want to talk with you a little more, sir,” said Dick, boldly, “about this
queer disappearance of your watch. I wish now I had gone to Mr. Nocker
and asked him to explain what he meant when just before leaving the
meeting that night he warned us to beware of the thief up here in Bass
Island.”
“Did he say that?” demanded Mr. Holwell, quickly. “Then there must
have been a reason for it. Others who have camped here, fishing parties,
perhaps, have lost things. And Dick, what you have told me actually raises
my spirits considerably, even if it does not promise to bring back my
missing property.”
Dick could understand. The kind-hearted minister must have been
oppressed by some of the same dreadful thoughts that ever since the first
raid had been tugging at his own heart-strings. He feared that one of the
boys might be guilty, and the very suspicion caused him unhappiness. It
would be so much easier to bear if in the end the culprit proved to be some
outside person, possibly a crazy man who had escaped from his keepers, as
Peg had suggested.
Long and earnestly did the minister and Dick converse while sitting
there. Dick found much encouragement from what the gentleman told him.
He even took occasion to mention the suspicions that had oppressed him
concerning Asa Gardner; but Mr. Holwell shook his head as though
determined not to harbor such himself.
“I have studied boy-nature for many years, Dick,” he said, with feeling;
“and I know how hard a fight poor Asa is doubtless putting up against the
strange weakness that used to dominate him. The memory of his dead
mother will cause him to be victorious in the struggle, I fully believe; and
just now he needs all the encouragement he can get. And you are the one
best fitted to stand by him as a faithful friend.”
“I’ll willingly do everything I can to help him along,” said Dick, with a
look of determination on his young face. “I’ve known times myself when I
needed a friendly hand to help me along, but never one half so much as he
does. There go Nat and his two chums into the woods. Mr. Bartlett must
have given them permission to explore the island.”
“I wonder if they are thinking of hunting up Eddie’s crowd, and helping
pick berries,” remarked Mr. Holwell. “It would be a kindly thing if some of
the other boys would lend a helping hand. The berry pickers will find it no
easy task to collect enough at a few cents a quart to pay their expenses.”
Although Dick did not say so, he was of the opinion that Nat and his
cronies were hardly the kind of boys to be anxious about anything
excepting their own welfare.
CHAPTER XV
DAN TELLS SOME WHOLESOME TRUTHS
“How is Humbert Loft getting on with the rest of the boys?” asked Mr.
Holwell, glancing over to where the lad in question was talking earnestly
with Dan, who had changed his mind about going with the “foraging party,”
on account of a bruised heel, caused by a shoe that chafed him.
Dick shook his head as though he rather despaired of weaning the
nephew of the town librarian from his stilted and unpleasant ways.
“He’s been well drilled at his home, sir, I’m afraid,” he went on to say,
“by that uncle of his who knows about as much about real boys as he does
of Egyptian mummies, and perhaps a good deal less. I’ve talked with him a
number of times, but everything he says is just an echo of what Mr. Loft has
been telling us right along.”
“Then you don’t really believe these lofty ideas are his own, but
acquired from association with older people?” asked the minister, looking
amused, for he personally had no sympathy with the principles of the
pedantic librarian.
“Why, Mr. Holwell, it’s impossible for a boy to think as he claims to do,
unless he was brought up among a lot of stuffy people who filled him with
their ideas. A boy to be natural is just bound to want to read stories that are
full of action. We all think that the writer who can give us healthy
adventure, and perhaps put some good, strong traits into his characters, is
doing us all the good we’ll stand for.”
“My opinion exactly,” said the minister, heartily.
“Still,” went on Dick, “Humbert has waked up some and is taking to the
water and to swimming like a fish; so, you see, there may be hope for him
in other things as well.”
“Let us hope so,” the minister said with a smile.
“I hope you have told Mr. Loft how we boys feel about our reading, sir,”
ventured Dick, boldly.
“Oh! many times when we have been warmly discussing these same
matters,” came the reply. “But it seems as useless as water dropping on a
stone. In the course of ages it may wear the stone away, but neither of us is
likely to live to see the day. Mr. Loft is very bigoted, and has a false idea
concerning boys and what they ought to read.”
“Still, he seems to be more civil to us nowadays,” observed Dick, with a
gleam of amusement in his eye as he spoke.
“H’m! for a very good reason,” laughed Mr. Holwell. “Since you and
your comrades started the Boys’ Library, with a select list of books, all
approved by myself, Mr. Henry Fenwick, and several other gentlemen who
love boys, Mr. Loft has been reading the handwriting on the wall. He begins
to fear that if he keeps on thrusting his classical ideas of boys’ literature
upon the patrons of the town library he may lose his job. So he believes it
good policy to quiet down.”
“Let’s wander over a little closer to where Dan and Humbert are sitting,
sir,” suggested Dick. “I’d just like to hear what they are saying, because
from the way Dan is laying the law down I expect it’s about books and Mr.
Loft’s ideas for boys. Dan, you know, is head and heels interested in that
library of ours; and he fairly despises Mr. Loft. I’ve heard him call him a
‘human icicle’ many a time.”
“Just as you say, Dick,” consented Mr. Holwell, smiling at the apt
designation given by Dan, for, regardless of the librarian’s intellectual gifts,
it seemed to fit him.
When the two sauntered near the place where the boys were talking,
Dan was getting up as though to leave. He did not notice the presence of
Mr. Holwell, but was shaking his forefinger in Humbert’s face. That
individual looked worried, as though he felt the crushing force of the
arguments Dan had been heaping up before him.
“I tell you, Humbert Loft,” they heard Dan say with emphasis, “boys
can’t be treated as if they were machines. Boys have feelings, and they
know what kind of reading they want every time. Their books have got to
have a certain amount of good, lively, healthy adventure in ’em, or else
nobody’s going to bother spending his time over ’em.”
“But my uncle says——” began Humbert feebly, when Dan interrupted
him.
“Oh! what does your uncle know about boys, tell me? I guess when he
was a baby they must have fed him on Latin verbs and Greek nouns. All he
thinks of is stuffing us boys with ‘standard literature,’ as he calls it, when
we’re just shouting for things that appeal to our boy natures.”
“But what he wants boys to read are the books that all cultivated people
consider the finest fruits of human endeavor!” urged Humbert, desperately.
“Who says they ain’t?” demanded Dan, with a reckless disregard for all
rules of grammar that must have chilled the other boy’s heart. “But they
never were meant for boys’ consumption. When we get older we’ll
gradually drop reading boys’ stories, and some of us may take up the
classics, while others will get out in the busy world and go to work.”
“I don’t know—I’m only telling you what my uncle thinks about it,”
pleaded Humbert, weakly.
“Stop and think for a minute, will you?” continued Dan, still waving
that threatening forefinger back and forth. “If every boy in Cliffwood were
built on the same model as you, Humbert Loft, what a terrible desolation
there would be in that poor town. Why, with not a single boy playing ball,
or giving a shout when he felt real good, the people would think the end of
the world had come. Isn’t that so, Humbert?”
Humbert smiled in a sickly fashion.
“Why, I guess it would seem pretty queer,” he admitted, slowly.
“And another thing, Humbert,” finished Dan as a clincher, “since
you’ve been up here with us I’ve noticed that you begin to show some
interest in our doings. I really believe you’re beginning to find your real
self, and that when we go back to Cliffwood you’ll be a different sort of
fellow. Think it over, won’t you, and just join in with the rest of us in our
fun? Forget your uncle, and remember that you’re a living, breathing boy,
not a mummified classic.”
With that Dan tore away to do something he had in mind. Mr. Holwell
touched Dick on the arm, and the two of them retreated without Humbert’s
being aware that his heart-to-heart talk with Dan had been overheard.
“See him shaking his head, and then smiling, sir,” said Dick, with
considerable interest. “I really do believe those sledge-hammer blows Dan
gave him have made an impression on Humbert. Given a week or ten days
up here, and he may throw off the heavy load he’s been carrying so long,
and act like a regular boy for once.”
“We’ll hope so, Dick,” returned Mr. Holwell. “But while Humbert is
growing less pedantic and dropping some of his foolish pose, I trust the rest
of you will pick up a genuine love of books. The love of good books is
always a joy and sometimes a solace when other things fail one.”
The morning passed away, and those in the camp found many things to
do under the supervision of Mr. Bartlett and the athletic instructor.
It must have been all of half-past eleven when Dick heard the sound of
hasty footsteps in the woods near by. Then several figures burst into sight,
hurrying toward the camp, and making extravagant gestures as they
stumbled along. At the same time they cast frightened looks over their
shoulders, and Dick heard Nat Silmore cry:
“This here island’s no place for our camp, fellers. There’s a terrible wild
man loose on the same, and he roared at us something fierce. We’d better
get away from here while the going’s good, I tell you! Wow! I’m nearly all
in.”
CHAPTER XVI
WAS IT A WILD MAN OF THE WOODS?
“What’s all this you are telling us, Nat?” asked Mr. Bartlett, with a show
of interest, while the boys of the camp crowded around the trio of
newcomers, and Mr. Holwell and Mr. Rowland stood listening not far to
one side.
Dit and Alonzo seemed pretty well exhausted. They sank down on a
log, panting as if they could hardly catch their breath. Despite the color in
their flushed faces they looked alarmed, as well as sheepish on account of
having given way to their fears.
“Why, we certain sure did see something, Mr. Bartlett!” urged Nat, with
emphasis. “The woods happened to be kind o’ gloomy right there, so we
couldn’t be dead sure what it was, but he made a horrible drumming sound,
and waved his arms above his head. Ugh! did we run? Well, to say we tore
along’d be hitting it closer.”
“And I reckon the wild man chased after us for a little, too,” Dit
Hennesy managed to say between his gasps. “Leastwise I could hear
something comin’ back of us, and it made me smash into a tree, I was that
worried.”
He put a hand up to his forehead, where they could see that a lump had
made its appearance. This at least was evidence that the boys were not
trying to play one of Nat’s customary practical jokes. Bumps like that have
a way of telling a story of their own. Bumps seldom lie.
“What makes you think it was a wild man?” asked Harry Bartlett, trying
to get all the information possible from the boys.
“Oh! well,” replied Nat, slowly, “he just seemed to act wild, I reckon.
When we glimpsed him he was squatting down, and as soon as Dit here let
out a whoop he commenced growling at us something fierce.”
“Yes, sir,” said Alonzo, thinking he ought to add the weight of his
testimony to that given by his two companions, “it was a wild man as sure
as anything. And right away, sir, there were three wild boys tearing through
the woods like fun. As luck would have it we came in the right direction,
and didn’t get lost. Whew! I’d hate to spend a night alone on this island
with that thing roaming around loose!”
The camp director and Mr. Holwell walked aside, Dick going with
them.
“What do you think about it, Mr. Holwell?” asked the boy.
“They evidently did see something that frightened them,” admitted the
gentleman. “But whether it was an animal or a crazy human being remains
to be found out later. When boys are suddenly thrown into a bad scare they
can easily mistake a hog, or even a harmless calf, for a monster.”
“But if there is some sort of strange creature loose on Bass Island,”
pursued Dick, eagerly, “mightn’t that explain the thefts that have been
taking place?”
“True enough, Dick,” answered Harry Bartlett, “and for one I earnestly
hope that may turn out to be the case. It gives me a heartache to think of
suspecting any boy among us of being a thief.”
Several other boys joined them just then. They were all trying to figure
out how much dependence could be placed on the story told by Nat and his
cronies. In times past they had cried “wolf” so often that now no one felt
like believing them, though, in fact, there might be real cause for alarm.
“Huh!” said Dan, skeptically, “like as not they were looking to see what
the chances were to leave the island when they could hook one of the boats,
and then got scared at their own shadows. It’s nearly always the way with
bullies like Nat.”
“But why should they want to desert us, Dan?” asked Mr. Holwell.
The other shrugged his shoulders in a way that stood for a great deal.
“Oh! well, sir,” he went on to say, “I don’t want to accuse any one, you
understand, and right now I’m not hinting that Nat had a hand in those
thefts; but you see they think we suspect them, and that makes it
disagreeable here for them.”
“To tell the truth,” said Elmer Jones, “I never thought they’d tag along
with us up here, in a regularly organized Y. M. C. A. camp, because they’re
always in fear of being lectured on account of their ways. But they came,
and now they feel uneasy when this queer mystery is afoot.”
“We mustn’t make them feel that they are suspected,” said the minister.
“So far they seem to have behaved themselves fairly well, and I have been
allowing myself to hope that by degrees those boys may see that it pays to
be decent. I would like to show them that there’s more genuine fun to be
gotten out of the clean method of living than in the way they’ve usually
carried on. Besides, we mustn’t forget that none of those boys has the best
of home influences back of him.”
“There comes the boat with the bass fishermen!” called Dan just then,
as a shout was heard from the water.
“They act as if they had met with at least fair success,” said Mr.
Holwell, who could read boys like the printed page of a book, though for all
that he confessed that he found something new every day to study in their
make-up.
“And unless my eyes are deceiving me,” remarked Harry Bartlett,
“there’s the other boat pushing out from the shore across the lake.”
“Just what it is,” added Clint Babbett, who possessed keen vision. “And
say! let me tell you they’ve got a load of stuff along with them. Must have
about cleaned that farmer out of eatables.”
There was more or less excitement as the boats came in, one after the
other. The fishermen had succeeded beyond their most ardent expectations,
and showed a splendid catch of bass, several of which exceeded in weight
the largest taken on the preceding day.
When those from the second boat landed they proudly exhibited the
results of their visit to the farm. There was butter, beautiful golden in color,
and many dozens of eggs, some of them from ducks, though it was pretty
late in the summer for these fowls to be laying, Mr. Holwell observed.
“And here’s six of the finest spring chickens you ever saw,” said Phil
Harkness, one of the foragers, exultantly. “They had just fixed them for
market, and were only too glad to sell them to us.”
“The farmer’s wife treated us to all the buttermilk we could swallow,”
observed Fred Bonnicastle, another of the returned pilgrims. “She said we
could have gallons of it if only we had some way of carrying it back with
us, which we didn’t—only in us.”
Lunch was prepared with the customary breezy accessories in the way
of directions called back and forth. Mr. Holwell seemed just the same as
usual. If he felt his late loss keenly he knew how to hide his feelings, so that
he might not cause the spirits of his boys to droop.
One lad, however, said nothing. This was Asa Gardner. Dick could not
help noticing that the boy heaved a deep sigh every little while, when he
thought no one was noticing him.
“He certainly looks unhappy,” Dick told himself, as once more
suspicions began to force themselves into his mind, though he hurriedly put
them aside, remembering the promise he had made to Mr. Holwell to
believe in Asa and help him all he possibly could.
The three berry pickers had returned with full buckets. They reported
the supply of berries as literally inexhaustible. Still it could be seen that
they were beginning to wonder where the fun of their outing was to come in
if they had to spend most of their time in doing this sort of work.
“On Monday,” Dick told Mr. Holwell and Mr. Bartlett, “I’ll give some
of the fellows a tip, and see if many hands won’t make light work. We’d all
like to pick berries for a while, I expect, and every quart will count so much
to their score. And I’ve an idea Mr. Nocker means to see that they get a
price for those berries that no one ever had before.”
“That’s the right spirit to show,” Mr. Holwell remarked as he placed a
hand affectionately on Dick’s shoulder.
It happened that a little while after lunch Dick wandered down to the
landing to take a look at one of the boats which had been reported as
leaking again. He believed he knew of a way in which it could be mended
so as to stay dry and serviceable.
He turned the boat upside-down; and, while stooping over examining
the bottom of the flat craft, he heard some one coming. Turning his head he
saw it was Asa Gardner. Like a flash it struck Dick that the other wanted to
say something to him in secret, and was taking this chance when no one
else was near.
A chill gripped Dick’s heart. He seemed to feel that something dreadful
was coming, though he could not guess its nature as yet.
Asa drew alongside.
“Dick,” he said, and the other boy noticed how his voice trembled.
“Yes, what is it, Asa?”
“I’ve been waiting to catch you alone, because I’ve got something to
say to you that I wouldn’t like anybody else to hear, especially Mr.
Holwell.”
Dick felt the chilly sensation again; but he looked up smilingly.
“All right, Asa,” he said, cheerily, “here’s your chance to tell me what’s
bothering you. If I can do anything to make you feel easier just make up
your mind I want to help you. Now, what’s gone wrong?”
Asa’s eyes were growing wet, and evidently he labored under great
emotion.
“It’s just this, Dick,” he said, weakly, “I never should have dared come
along with a bunch of decent fellows like your crowd. I ought to have
known I just couldn’t keep from falling back into my old ways, that have
got such a terrible grip on me. And Dick, there’s only one thing to be done
—send me home right away!”
CHAPTER XVII
DICK’S PROMISE
Dick could hardly believe his own ears when he heard Asa make this
terrible confession. He gripped the other boy by the shoulder almost
fiercely.
“Look here, Asa Gardner, do you mean to tell me that it was you who
took those things in the night—Dan’s watch, the aluminum frying-pan, and
last of all the gold watch which your best friend Mr. Holwell thinks so
much of?”
Asa groaned, and drooped pitifully in his grasp.
“I don’t know for sure, Dick, but I’m awfully afraid I did,” he said,
huskily.
“That’s a queer way to put it,” Dick told him, sternly. “Anybody ought
to know if he were guilty of doing such a mean thing as that. You’ll have to
explain yourself, Asa. Do you remember taking those things?”
“No, no, that’s the strangest part of it, you see, Dick,” pleaded the boy.
“But they disappeared, and I was in the camp both nights.”
Dick began to breathe a little easier.
“But that isn’t any proof at all, Asa, that I can see,” he hurriedly
remarked. “How could you take them, and not know it, tell me?”
“I wish I could, Dick, but then nobody else here would be low enough
to steal except me, and so I’ve figured it out that I must have done it in my
sleep, just because the old habit was so strong. While I was awake I could
fight it off, but you see once I lost my senses my grip was broken, and I
must have done it. Oh, I must!”
“Well, that’s a funny thing to tell me, I must say,” Dick replied. “You
haven’t the least remembrance of doing it, yet you’re ready to take all the
blame on your shoulders because once on a time you had a weakness that
way. Brace up, Asa; you never took Mr. Holwell’s watch, I tell you.”
It was wonderful to see how new hope seemed to come immediately
into the heart of the erring boy. The look of misery began to die out of his
face, and through the tears gathering in his eyes Dick could see a new
sparkle—that of hope.
“Oh! it’s kind of you to say that to me, Dick!” he exclaimed between his
sobs, for he was completely aroused and could not control himself, though
he tried hard to do so. “Tell me who did take the watch, then, that Mr.
Holwell, the finest man on this whole earth, thought so much of?”
Dick laughed breezily, more to cheer the poor fellow up than because he
considered it a joke.
“I wish I could tell you, Asa,” he said, quickly. “But so far it’s a mystery
that has yet to be solved. But I’m dead sure you hadn’t a thing to do with
the robbery, if that’s what you mean.”
“There was one favor I meant to ask you, Dick, if you thought I hadn’t
better leave the camp,” continued Asa, presently, when he could master his
emotion.
“All right, let’s hear it,” he was told encouragingly.
“To-night, and every night after this I want you to let me sleep next to
you in your tent. Yes, and Dick, if only you’d fix it with a cord of some
kind so that I couldn’t move about without your knowing it I’d feel easier.
Then if another robbery was committed I’d begin to understand that I
couldn’t be doing these terrible things in my sleep.”
“I’ll think it over, Asa,” the other told him. “Though I’m sure nothing
like that is going to be needed to prove your innocence. Besides, since
we’ve heard of Nat and the other fellows meeting with some sort of strange
man in the woods, Mr. Holwell, Mr. Bartlett and Mr. Rowland begin to
believe the secret of the robberies will be solved when we run across the
wild man.”
Asa winked hard to clear his eyes from the tears.
“You’ve made me feel a whole lot easier, I tell you, Dick,” he said, and
he persisted in squeezing the other’s unwilling hand with boyish fervor. “I
hope and pray that it may come out that way. I’m trying as hard as I can to
keep my promise to my mother, and she knows that it would nearly kill me
if I found that I was going back to those old ways in my sleep.”
“Cheer up, Asa, and don’t let any of the other fellows see you looking
as if you had lost your last friend. Mr. Holwell believes in you, and so does
Harry Bartlett, and so do I. You’re going to be all right and as good as the
next one. Sure! you can sleep alongside of me if you feel like it. But about
that cord you mentioned, I hardly think it’ll be necessary.”
Asa wandered off until such time as he could recover from his emotion
and Dick continued his examination of the boat’s bottom. After all, he was
glad the other had spoken as he had, because somehow it seemed to clear
the air.
“And,” he told himself, humorously, “I’m beginning to get a hunch that
before a great while we’ll find some way of explaining this mystery. If that
was a wild man Nat and the others saw, surely he must be a lunatic who’s
escaped from some asylum. We may be the means of capturing him, and
restoring him to his quarters. He’ll be frozen to death if he has to stay on
Bass Island all winter.”
The idea pleased Dick exceedingly, and when he once more joined the
others by the fire some of the boys wondered what could have happened to
make him appear so cheerful again.
He took the first favorable opportunity that arose to get Mr. Holwell
aside. Asa had not yet returned to the camp, though they could see him
sitting on the end of a fallen tree that jutted out over the water, possibly a
hundred yards further along the shore of the island.
“I had a pretty bad scare a short time ago, sir,” was what Dick started to
say, which caused the gentleman to start, and look at him strangely.
“Have you been seeing things too, Dick?” he asked. “Would the wild
man become so bold as to approach our camp in broad daylight?”
“No, but I’ve been hearing things that gave me a bad turn at first,
though it came around all right pretty soon,” and with that Dick repeated
what Asa had said to him near the boat landing when they were alone.
Mr. Holwell was of course stunned at first, but as Dick went on with his
story his eyes grew moist, and he shook his head as though he felt
exceedingly sorry for the boy whose past haunted him so persistently.
“Poor Asa,” he said, later on, when he had heard all, “it must be terrible
to feel as he does, and be compelled to fight so desperately to keep from
doing things that other boys have no fear they will be tempted to do. I give
him all credit for his gallant fight, and if he wins, as I firmly believe will be
the case, I shall be proud of him. You must continue to help him in every
way you can, my boy.”
“I certainly will, sir,” declared Dick, with a strong remembrance of the
moist eyes Asa had turned on him when he made that humiliating
confession that after all had proved to be only a dreadful suspicion, and not
a reality.
That was a busy afternoon, all things considered. Some of those who
had been out fishing in the morning decided they had had enough angling
for one day. Besides, they knew very well that others were desirous of
testing their skill against the game qualities of the black bass of Lake
Russabaga.
So it came about that Dick Horner had a chance to be a member of the
quartette that left camp with dark designs against the finny inhabitants of
the inland sea. They carried a goodly number of live bait in a pail
constructed for that purpose, and also some artificial minnows, as well as
trolling spoons to fall back on in case the other supplies were exhausted.
Mr. Holwell had entered into the work with almost as much enthusiasm
as any of the boys.
“To-morrow being Sunday,” he explained as he worked, “we will do
just as little manual labor as possible. My flock in town will have a supply
in the pulpit, for they have given me a little holiday. And if you boys care to
hear it I expect to give you a sermon I wrote for some lads of my
acquaintance many years ago, though it touches on truths that are just as
pertinent to-day as when it was first delivered.”
Dan had not gone off with any of the others, but at the same time he
failed to mingle with those in the camp. They could hear him pottering
away close by, now hammering, and again coming back for bits of stout
twine or rope. Nobody but Mr. Bartlett knew what Dan was about.
All this naturally aroused something akin to curiosity among the boys,
and as the afternoon wore on many guesses were indulged in as to what
Dan Fenwick could be doing. Finally, one of his companions, more daring
than the rest, sauntered over his way to ask him pointblank what it was he
kept working on so industriously. Andy Hale, for it was he who had
approached Dan, presently came hurrying back, with a half grin on his face,
at the same time laboring under partly repressed excitement.
“Hey! would you believe it?” he announced as he arrived near the fire.
“Dan up and told me he was building a cage to trap that wild man Nat saw
in the woods.”
CHAPTER XVIII
SETTING THE TRAP
Of course when Andy made this surprising report the rest of the boys
were of a mind to rush over in a body to joke Dan, and perhaps make fun of
his labors. Mr. Holwell, however, dissuaded them.
“Better leave Dan to finish his trap, boys,” he told them. “He’s a busy
fellow these days it seems, and deserves success if anybody does. If he
needs any help you’ll hear him call for it. In the meanwhile don’t thrust
yourselves where evidently you’re not wanted.”
Accordingly, all dropped back into their comfortable seats, and took it
out in speculating as to what the worker could have in mind when his
ambition led him to want to trap a real wild man of the woods.
Dan did not show up in time to take part in the customary preparations
for dinner. There were plenty of recruits, however, for with hunger urging
them on the campers showed an eagerness to hasten the getting of the
evening meal. Sunny Jim grinned more broadly than ever when he found
his tasks so cheerfully lightened.
They managed to hold themselves in check until Mr. Holwell had asked
the customary blessing. Somehow this influence for good was felt even by
those lads who had never known such a custom in their own homes. It
seemed especially well suited to the leafy canopy overhead, the gurgling
waters lapping the shore near by, and the sense of freedom around that
brought them closer to nature and to God.
Dan made his appearance about the time they were half through, and the
twilight shadows were stealing timidly out of the recesses of the mysterious
woods.
Many curious looks were cast in his direction, but somewhat to his
surprise no one ventured to joke him about his ambitious labors. Dan
himself, when the edge had been taken from his appetite, introduced the
topic voluntarily.
“Course you fellows are wondering what I’m up to,” he said, with a
grin. “Well, I got a little idea into my cranium, and have been working the
same out, with the aid of a hatchet, a hammer and some nails. In fact, I’ve
set a trap hoping to coax the escaped lunatic to go in, after which it’ll drop
and hold him for us.”
“But what will you bait it with, Dan?” demanded Peg, with seeming
innocence, “because you know my aluminum frying-pan is gone, and we
haven’t got another shiny watch in the camp nowadays.”
“Oh! that’s easy,” said Dan, carelessly. “I reckon now that even a crazy
man is liable to get hungry right along. I’m going to bait the trap with some
sort of food that I think ought to draw him on. Just wait and see, that’s all.”
The evening passed in the usual occupations. Some of the boys busied
themselves in one way and some in another. Some had writing to do; some
worked with pictures they had taken during the day, and which were to be
developed at night time.
Already the keen spirit of rivalry had taken complete possession of the
campers. The prizes that had been offered to those coming in with the best
flashlight photograph, the cleanest score in nature study, the highest marks
in knowledge of woodcraft, and numerous other courses laid out by Mr.
Rowland, may have had something to do with their perseverance.
There was more, however, than this desire for gain urging the boys on.
Most of them really yearned to improve themselves along certain lines, and
to be adjudged first in their class would be considered proof that they had
met with success.
So there was hardly a boy in the camp aside from Nat and his two
sombre cronies, Dit Hennesy and Alonzo Crane, but found himself entering
into the spirited rivalry that would act as a spur to achievement.
When finally “taps” was sounded on Mr. Bartlett’s cornet, Asa was
given a place next to Dick, Andy Hale being transferred to another tent,
though no one thought to ask why this was done. If the boys talked it over
at all they must have reached the conclusion that Asa was growing nervous
about sleeping in a tent further removed from the fire at a time when there
was a creature of an unknown species prowling about on Bass Island.
By degrees the camp fell into an utter silence, though occasionally some
one, who may have been lying on his back, would begin to breathe louder
than his mates liked, whereupon he was punched in the ribs, and made to
roll over.
It must have been well on toward midnight when the sleepers were
suddenly aroused by a tremendous crash not far away; and immediately an
exodus from the several shelters began. Boys, clad in various patterns of
pajamas, all looking a bit frightened, gathered about in groups.
CHAPTER XIX
A DAY OF REST
“It’s a terrible storm coming, like as not!” Elmer Jones was exclaiming,
as he started to unwrap a rainproof coat he had been thoughtful enough to
provide for such occasions.
“Sounded more like a house falling down to me!” called Clint Babbett.
“I was dreaming of two railroad trains coming together, just when that
smash came,” announced Leslie Capes.
“And I was heading straight for the falls of Niagara, and could hear the
water roaring like everything,” confessed Nat Silmore.
Dan had not said a word up to then, and Dick, glancing toward him,
could see a proud look beginning to take possession of the other’s face.
“You’re all wrong, fellows!” exclaimed Dan, unable to hold in any
longer. “You’ve got another guess coming, I tell you. Don’t you remember
that it was over there that I set my trap? Well, she worked all right, and
mebbe I’ve got our wild man safely caged at this very minute!”
The announcement created great excitement.
“Hey! let’s hurry and get some duds on, so we can go and see!” called
Peg, who was hopping about on one foot, as he had stubbed a toe in the
haste with which he rushed forth from his sleeping quarters.
“How about that, Mr. Bartlett?” asked Dick, seeing the camp director
among them, he having hurriedly slipped on a bath robe before making his
appearance.
“We ought to get there with as little waste of time as possible,” replied
Harry Bartlett, looking interested. “If it should turn out that the trap has
done what Dan intended, the poor fellow may be hurt in some way, and it
would be cruel for us to wait until morning to investigate.”
“Whew! from the racket I should say something fierce had happened!”
declared Phil Harkness, as he hastened back to where his clothes hung
suspended from nails driven into the pole of sleeping tent Number Three.
There was some hurried work done about that time, as every lad wanted
to get himself in readiness as quickly as possible. Many hands quivered
with excitement, and buttons were much more difficult to fasten than
ordinarily.
One by one the boys assembled by the resurrected fire, some still
hurriedly fastening their garments. It was an excited group that collected
around Mr. Holwell, Mr. Bartlett, the physical director and Dick, as camp
leaders.
“Hadn’t we better take something along with us, to defend ourselves in
case he turns out to be ugly?” asked Dick.
“Yes, I suppose that would be only a wise provision,” returned Mr.
Holwell, “for one never knows what a crazy person may do. They are also
possessed of enormous strength as a usual thing. Get any sort of club you
can find, boys.”
There was an immediate hustling around on the part of the half-dressed
campers. Some managed to find suitable cudgels. Others picked up
anything they could see that promised to prove useful in an emergency. Peg
appropriated the camp hatchet, Ban Jansen the axe, while Andy Hale, in lieu
of anything better, armed himself with the stout iron rod which they used
across the fire when hanging a pot over the blaze.
Mr. Rowland had lighted the lantern. Others found blazing brands from
the fire, which they made into serviceable torches by whirling them swiftly
around their heads.
“Now come along,” said the camp director, smiling as he glanced
around and noted the unique character of the procession ready to trail after
him.
“I’d give a dollar, sure I would, to have a snap-shot of this bunch right
now,” declared Clint Babbett, who was becoming quite an expert
photographer, and aspired to win a prize by taking flashlight pictures at
night time of little wild animals in their native haunts.
Indeed, they certainly did look comical as they passed from the camp
and headed toward the spot where Dan had set his great trap. He bravely
acted as pilot of the expedition, since none but he knew just where they
were going.
Presently, from his cautious actions, the rest understood that they were
very close to their destination.
“Can you glimpse the trap yet, Dan?” asked Peg, eagerly, lowering his
voice as if afraid lest he start the prisoner into making new and desperate
efforts to escape from the toils.
“And is he inside?” inquired Fred Bonnicastle, with a gasp that told of
his interest.
“I can just begin to see the thing,” announced Dan, slowly, and Dick
thought he could detect the first shade of growing disappointment in the
other’s voice.
A few more steps, and then Dan spoke again.
“Hey! what does this mean?” he grumbled.
“Didn’t the trap work after all, Dan?” asked Peg, in a grieved tone.
“Work!” snorted Dan, huskily. “I should say it did. Only the maniac was
too much for me after all. He’s gone and busted my trap to flinders.”
Groans of disappointment welled up from numerous throats, and there
was a quickening of footsteps as all drew closer to the spot where the wreck
of the clumsy contrivance lay scattered around.
They stood and stared at the ruin. Dan shook his head, and drew in his
breath with a faint whistle that expressed intense astonishment.
“Say, he must have been a buster of a man!” he finally exclaimed,
bending down to examine some stout limbs that had been actually broken in
two as though by a mighty force. “He just got as mad as hops when it
dropped around him, and smashed things right and left. But, fellows, he
carried off the bait all right, I notice.”
“That shows he has an appetite after all,” remarked Mr. Holwell,
considerably amused at the happening, though at the same time feeling that
the situation bordered on a grave one, with such a terrible denizen of the
woods visiting their camp so frequently.
“After this he’ll be feeling kind of peeved at us for hurting him, I
guess,” ventured Peg.
“Well, if it comes to the worst,” Phil remarked, “we can some of us sit
up each night, and stand our turn on guard.”
“That sounds pleasant, I must say,” observed Elmer, with a half laugh.
The party once more returned to camp, and Mr. Bartlett told them not to
sit around talking matters over, but to get back to their blankets. Indeed, the
night air felt rather chilly, and the boys were not loath to take this advice.
“Plenty of time to talk it all over in the morning,” the camp director told
them. “Perhaps by that time we may run across some sort of clue that will
put us on the track of the poor fellow. It strikes me we ought to do our best
to make him a prisoner while up here. If, as we suspect, he turns out to be a
lunatic, it would be little short of a crime to leave him here to freeze in the
winter time.”
One thing Dick noticed, and this was that while most of the boys
thought the visit from the wild man almost a tragedy one of their number
seemed to be particularly pleased over it.
This was Asa Gardner, who, from the time they first gathered after the
alarm was given, had been smiling contentedly. Dick could give a pretty
good guess why.
“Asa knows now,” Dick told himself, “that it couldn’t have been his
fault those things disappeared from our camp. He was lying beside me
sound asleep when the alarm came. So he figures that after all it must have
been this strange being who crept into our camp and stole the bright things
that caught his attention. Well, I’m glad for Asa’s sake, that’s all.”
Some of the boys were nervous as they lay down. They half anticipated
a further visit from the unknown. The remainder of the night passed,
however, without further annoyance.
Sunday morning found the boys up early, and taking their cold plunge.
Mr. Holwell joined them, for from boyhood days a dip in the water on a fine
summer morning had always been a delicious treat for the minister. The
usual morning exercises were dispensed with, for Sunday is always
conducted on strictly religious lines in every genuine Y. M. C. A. camp.
After breakfast had been eaten and everything cleaned up about the
camp, the campers assembled to enjoy a little song service, after which Mr.
Holwell had promised to deliver his famous “boys’ sermon.”
Asa Gardner sought out Dick. Plainly the sensitive boy was feeling
much better than when he had had his last interview with his friend, Dick, a
fact the latter was pleased to note.
“You’re coming around to my way of thinking, I guess, Asa?” he
remarked.
Asa turned his eyes up toward Dick.
“Yes,” he said, softly, “I believe it’s going to come out all right now,
Dick, for my dear mother came to me in my dreams last night, and she told
me I would win the fight! Oh! I’m so glad, so glad, and I owe a heap to you,
that’s right!”