Part 14 (1/2)
The boys were making such a noise, laughing and yelling that they did not hear the hail of a youth who came down to the edge of the bank, a little later, and shouted at them. Finally, however, he managed to make his presence known by a shrill whistle in imitation of a whip-poor-will.
”Why it's John Newton!” exclaimed Fenn, recognizing the boy who had been expelled from school.
”I've got a letter for you, Frank,” said John.
”A letter for me?”
”Yes. Special delivery.”
”Where'd you get it?”
”From the post-office of course. I'm working there now as messenger.
Heard you boys were here and as I had to come in this direction I brought it along.”
”Thought you were going to get a job in a theater,” remarked Bart.
”I am, some day, but I've got to go to New York for a good opening.
There's none around here for a real artist,” and John began to warble like a bob-o-link.
”Wonder who that letter's from?” asked Frank.
”Better wade ash.o.r.e and find out,” suggested Ned, and Frank did so.
His chums watched him take the letter from John and sign the book and then they too, began making their way toward sh.o.r.e. Frank dried his hands on his s.h.i.+rt, which was on top of his pile of clothes on the bank, and opened the envelope.
The letter must have been a short one, for he was only a few seconds in reading it. As he did so his chums could see a change come over his face.
”Bad news?” asked Bart sympathetically.
”No--yes--that is--I can't tell you,” said Frank, speaking quickly.
”I've got to hurry back home,” he added. ”I'll go on if you don't mind, and not wait for you,” and he began to dress quickly.
”Aren't you going back in the boat?” asked Ned.
”No, I think I'll walk through the woods. I'll take the short cut.”
”Anything we can do?” asked Bart.
”No--I wish I could tell you--but I can't,” Frank replied. ”I must send an answer at once.”
He thrust the letter into his trousers pocket and went on dressing himself. He completed his toilet in a hurry and walked off through the woods, taking the path the post-office messenger had used. The latter had departed as soon as he delivered the missive.
”Well, that's a strange sort of letter Frank got,” commented Bart as he climbed out on the bank. ”h.e.l.lo!” he added. ”He's forgotten the envelope,” and he picked it up from the ground where Frank had dropped it.
CHAPTER XIII
SANDY ON GUARD