Part 2 (1/2)

CHAPTER III

THE COPPERHEAD

Bright and early next morning Bert awoke to find the sunbeams playing all over his tent. He noticed lazily what funny spots they made on Tom's sleeping face. Then, with a start, he remembered that Tom had grumbled the night before because they would have to get up early to catch a mess of fish for breakfast.

Thinking that he would wait a little while till Tom woke up, he rolled off his cot on to the floor so that he could command a view of the brook through the open tent flap. He had just made himself comfortable when an irritable voice hailed him from the direction of Tom's cot:

”That you, Bert? What are you doing awake at this unearthly hour?”

”Same as yourself, I suppose,” came the calm reply.

”Humph! Well, you're not going to rout me out at five o'clock in the morning.”

”Don't be a bear, Tom. We've got to help the fellows catch that fish and you know it, so the sooner we start the better. A couple of the fellows are down there now.”

”Oh, well, I suppose we've got to, then, worse luck. They probably will guy us unmercifully, too, about yesterday. It's a wonder they didn't, last night,” which was all the credit the boys got for trying to save the feelings of the reckless volunteers.

As the two comrades ran swiftly down to the water's edge, they noticed that Shorty--Philip Strong had been nicknamed Shorty because of his very small figure--was tugging hard at his line.

”Got a bite, Shorty?” they shouted, when they came within hailing distance.

”Bet your life, and it's pulling like a good fellow, too.”

”Better let me help; I'm stronger than you,” offered Bob, who was sitting a little distance down the bank and whose luck hadn't been of the best up to that time.

Now, a very sore point with Shorty was his lack of strength, and whenever anybody referred to it, no matter with what good intentions, he always bristled up as if at a personal insult. This morning that very touchiness proved to be his undoing, for, as he got to his feet, intending to inform Bob that he could do very well without any of his help, the fish gave a sudden jerk to the line that made Shorty lose his balance and tumble head-first into the water.

The boys, convulsed with laughter, fished him up, dripping and sheepish.

Without thanking the boys for their help, Shorty zig-zagged up to the tent, making, it must be confessed, a rather sorry figure. When they finally had managed to get the line up they found that the cause of Shorty's undoing had escaped.

”Poor little Shorty, he's always getting into trouble,” one of the boys said when he had breath enough.

Then, as the time was getting short, they all settled down in good earnest to their task and, before the camp was awake at half-past six, had caught a ”corking mess,” as they expressed it.

As each tent poured forth its several occupants, the fishermen took their mornings catch to the mess tent and went to report--some of them with sinking hearts, it is to be feared--to Mr. Hollis.

However, the leader was very lenient with the offenders, merely reprimanding their carelessness and cautioning them not again to forget that they had pledged their word of honor to render him the most absolute obedience in every particular.

Upon the boys eagerly promising that they wouldn't offend again and upon Bert's asking to be allowed to have another chance to find the camp site, permission was given and they sauntered away, filled with the happy antic.i.p.ation of laurels still to be won.

Soon after breakfast the ”Red Scout” was brought out and the original volunteers, their ranks swelled by three new recruits, Shorty among them, started off up the hill amid the cheers and good wishes of the fellows.

For an hour they rode steadily up hill and down dale until they saw far off through the trees the faint gleam of water. Running the auto into the woods for a short distance, they all jumped out and started to investigate.

The boys thought they had never seen the woods when they were as beautiful as on that day. They had not gone very far before Bert, who was in the lead, called back, ”Come here, fellows and see this grove of chestnut trees. Isn't it great?”

The boys all hurried forward and there, sure enough, was a regular colony of chestnut trees, their huge branches giving promise of abundant harvest, when the frost came.

”Say, fellows, its a shame not to be able to get any good out of these nuts that are sure to be so plentiful in the fall. Don't you suppose we might arrange to stay until the frost comes?” Shorty asked.

”I should think we ought to be able to fix it up,” said Frank. ”We can ask Mr. Hollis about it anyway.”