Part 37 (2/2)

At once the rock began to burn with a curious blue flame, and a yellowish smoke curled up.

”Oh, the rock's on fire!” cried Janet. ”The rock's on fire!”

”Yes, and look!” added Ted. ”It's burning blue, just like the light we saw on the island one night.”

”And how queer it smells!” exclaimed Hal.

”Sulphur!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Grandpa Martin.

He and the children looked at the queer blue fire that seemed to come from inside the rock. What could it mean?

CHAPTER XX

THE HAPPY TRAMP

Grandpa Martin stood looking down at the queer, burning rock. The blue fire was flaming up brighter now, and it made a strange light on the faces of the Curlytops and Hal as they gathered about. The sky was cloudy and it was getting dark.

”Oh, what is it? What is it?” asked Ted and Jan.

”It smells just like old-fas.h.i.+oned sulphur matches that my grandmother used to light,” said Nora, who had come out, having seen the queer light from the cook-tent.

”And it _is_ sulphur that is burning,” said Grandpa Martin. ”That rock has sulphur in it, not gold, Hal. And it is the sulphur that is burning with the blue fire.”

”But what makes it?” asked the children.

Grandpa Martin did not answer for a few seconds. He stood again looking down at the flaming blue rock. Mrs. Martin, who had started to put Trouble to bed early, came out and looked.

”It's like something I once saw in the theater,” said the maid. ”I don't like it--that blue light. It reminds me of the time our house was struck by lightning--that sulphur smell.”

”It is the same smell,” said Mr. Martin. ”Curlytops, I think you have found something very queer in this blue rock. I don't know just what it is, but we'll find out. See, the stone is burning like a lump of coal now, but with a blue flame instead of red.”

”Just like the night we saw the blue fire on the island before we came camping here,” said Ted. ”Is it the same thing, Grandpa?”

”I don't know. Perhaps it is. Where did you get the blue rocks?”

”Over in the woods,” answered Hal. ”There's a great big one there. As big as this tent.”

”Is there?” some one suddenly asked. ”Then please show me where it is!

Oh, can it be that at last I have found what I have been looking for so long?”

The Curlytops and the others turned at the sound of this new and strange voice. A man seemed to spring out of the bushes back of the tent. By the light of the blue fire Ted and Jan saw that his clothes were ragged and torn in many places.

”Oh! Oh!” gasped Jan. ”That's the tramp!”

”Well, I guess maybe I do look like a tramp, all ragged and dirty as I am,” laughed the man, and his voice sounded pleasant. ”But I am not a regular tramp. I am Mr. Weston--Alfred Weston,” he went on, speaking to Grandpa Martin. ”I haven't a card with me, but when I get washed and dressed and shaved I'll look more like what I am. Excuse me for intruding this way, but I could not keep from speaking when I heard what you were talking about.”

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