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Roy Blakeley's Adventures in Camp Part 9

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"I don't care if they hear me," he said.

Pretty soon we rowed over and went up and sprawled around camp-fire.

Gee, whiz, I guess the whole camp was there. One of the scouts in a Virginia troop was telling a yarn about somebody who had an adventure at sea. It was mighty interesting, you can bet, and it kind of started me thinking about Lieutenant Donnelle. Little I knew of the terrible thing that was going to happen at camp the very next day. Right across from me I could see Skinny sitting near Mr. Ellsworth, but the rest of the Elks were sprawling around with the Ravens. One thing, my patrol always sticks together. Skinny's eyes looked awful big and wild, kind of, with the fire s.h.i.+ning right in his face and it made me feel kind of spooky to look at him. Poor kid, little he knew what he was going to go through. Anyway, I wished that the Elks would call him over to them.

Probably he was thinking about how he was going to win them the silver cup, hey?

CHAPTER XIV

TELLS ABOUT THE STORM ON BLACK LAKE

One thing I have to admit, and that is that Mr. Ellsworth helped me a lot with this chapter and the next one too. But just the same both of them are by me, all right.

It's a funny thing, but all that night I was dreaming about that canoe with the two fellows in it. I could hear them paddling just as clear as could be, only when I woke up before daylight, I knew it was just the sound of rain on the roof of our patrol cabin. It was dripping into the rain ditch, I guess.

Pretty soon I went to sleep again, and I could see Skinny standing in front of me and his eyes were staring and his face was all white and there was some blood on it and he said, "I want to be a Silver Fox, because my father stole a lot of silver; so haven't I got a right to be?" I tried to answer him, but there was a loud noise and he couldn't hear and then, all of a sudden, I woke up and I knew the noise was thunder and Skinny wasn't there at all. Anyway, it made me feel kind of creepy and I was glad when I saw him at breakfast.

All that morning it rained and most of the scouts stayed in their tents and cabins. Some of them played basketball in the pavilion. Three fellows from the Boston troop went out fis.h.i.+ng, but they had to come in it was raining so hard.

Before dinnertime, Uncle Jeb called some of us to move the mess boards into the pavilion, because it was beginning to blow from the east and the awnings and thatch roofs over the mess boards didn't keep the rain off, because it blew sideways. Out on the lake the water was churning up rough with little white caps. Jiminy, I never saw it like that before.

It was so dark and rainy that a fellow couldn't read even; anyway _I_ couldn't because, oh, I don't know, I felt queer kind of. A lot of us sat on the wide porch of the pavilion--the side facing the lake. It was wide enough so the rain didn't come in and wet us as long as we stayed way back near the windows. We sat in a long row with our chairs tilted back. It was nice there.

Somebody said, "That spring-board looks lonely sticking out into the lake; look how the drops jump off it, just like fellows diving."

"Not much of a day for the race," Doc Carson said.

"What race?" Pee-wee shouted.

"The human race," Doc said; "no sooner said than stung."

We were just starting to jolly Pee-wee, because that's our favorite indoor sport, when somebody said, "There's one of the gold dust twins out; he must be crazy."

"He comes from Maine," another fellow said; "I guess he's a maniac."

But anyway, it was no joke, that was sure. Away over near the other side of the lake we could see the canoe bobbing up and down and it seemed to be coming toward us.

"Only one of them is in it," I said.

"And that's one too much on a day like this; that pair are sure nutty,"

Doc said.

But just the same the canoe came along and one of those campers was sitting in the stern paddling it. He was having a pretty hard job, I could see that, but maybe it wasn't as dangerous as it looked, because if you know how to manage a canoe it's better than an old tub of a boat in bad weather.

"He's making it all right," one of the fellows said; "he's game, that's sure."

Pretty soon he came alongside the landing and turned his canoe over to let the water out, and then came up to the pavilion.

"Pretty wet," he said.

"You said something," Westy answered him; "you took a big chance coming over."

"I'd sure have been drowned if I _hadn't_ come," he laughed; "I wonder if you fellows can sell us a shovel? Our tent is floating."

I had to laugh, because that's always the one thing that most campers who aren't used to it forget about--I mean digging a drain ditch outside their tent. And the first time it rains, _good night,_ they get drowned out like rats. I thought he was a pretty nice kind of a fellow, only he was one tenderfoot, that was sure. He had a swell bathing suit on with one of those waterproof mackinaw jackets over it. I guess his people were rich all right, and I suppose that's why the fellows at camp called the pair the gold dust twins. He took some bills out of his pocket and said, "We want to buy a shovel; you can't dig a trench with a canoe paddle. There's fine swimming in our tent."

Then Bert Winton said, kind of quiet in that way he had, "I don't think you'll need any money here. I'll get hold of one of the scoutmasters,"

and he started down the steps. Just then I noticed Skinny standing on the steps and Bert Winton gave him a push, just for fun, as he went by.

"Come on in out of the rain, Alf," I said; because I knew he was just hanging there, because he was afraid to come up where the rest of us were. I asked him where his patrol was, and he said, "In the cabin, playing checkers." I said, "Don't _you_ know how to play checkers," and he said, "No." After that I didn't notice him.

Pretty soon the gold dust twin came back with a shovel and Mr. Elting, who is resident trustee, was with him, telling him he'd better not go back across the lake on account of its blowing up harder.

"I could never get around through the woods," he said; "because I tried it."

"Some of these boys will show you the trail," Mr. Elting said.

But he said, "No," and that as long as he came he was going to go back.

He said he didn't want any escort. He was pretty game, that was one sure thing. I guess maybe he felt sort of ashamed to have boy scouts show him the way, because he was older than most of us. Anyway, he started back and we sat there watching him, and pretty soon it seemed as if a kind of a screen was behind him, the rain was so thick and there was so much mist. It made him look sort of like a ghost or a--you know--a spectre.

Then, all of a sudden Artie Van Arlen's hat blew off and I heard a branch of a tree crack.

"Where is the canoe?" Doc said, all excited; "do you see it?"

We looked all over, but couldn't see him anywhere. That was just how quickly it happened. Then, all of a sudden I could hear a voice, but I couldn't hear it plain, because the wind was blowing the other way and the rain was making such a racket on the porch roof. The voice was all mixed up with the wind and it sounded spooky and gave me the creeps.

For a couple of seconds n.o.body said anything.

CHAPTER XV

TELLS ABOUT AN ACCIDENT

The next thing I knew there was a loud splash and I heard the spring-board down on the sh.o.r.e crack, and when I looked there I could see it jumping up and down.

I knew what that meant.

"Who dived?" Westy shouted; "he must be crazy! He can't make it. Hurry up, let's get a boat out! Do you hear the voice now?"

After that everything seemed to happen all in a jumble. Westy and Doc and I ran to the landing and got one of the boats off, while the fellows up on the porch shouted to the fellow who had dived to come back, because he couldn't make it. I heard one fellow yell, "You're crazy; come back while you can! They're getting a boat out!"

I was so busy helping to push the boat into deep water that I didn't think any more about the fellow who dived, only I supposed he must have turned back. I heard the fellows shouting, but I didn't pay any attention. Out on the lake I could hear the voice now calling help, and it sounded creepy, like a person trying to call while he's gargling.

Doc said, "It's all up with him; hurry, anyway."

It was pretty hard getting the boat started, because the wind kept blowing it ash.o.r.e, and we had to pull and tug for all we were worth. I got in back of it and shoved out till I was beyond my depth, then jumped in while Dock and Westy pulled for all they were worth, trying to get her ahead.

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Roy Blakeley's Adventures in Camp Part 9 summary

You're reading Roy Blakeley's Adventures in Camp. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Percy Keese Fitzhugh. Already has 676 views.

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