Home > Authors Index > H. Irving Hancock > High School Boys in Summer Camp > This page
The High School Boys in Summer Camp, a fiction by H. Irving Hancock |
||
Chapter 5. Dick Grapples In The Dark |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER V. DICK GRAPPLES IN THE DARK At last the meal was finished, this time without the help of the prowler. Dave and Dan washed the dishes, while Tom and Harry carried water enough to fill the hogshead that had been brought along as part of their camp equipment. At the same time, Dick and Greg unstrapped and set up the six light-weight folding canvas cots, standing them in a row in the tent. Next they arranged the bedding that had been loaned by mothers at home, and made up the six beds. Enough fuel to start a fire in the morning was also brought in. "And now, what did we come out here in the woods for?" inquired Dick smilingly. "To get our fill of sleep," yawned Tom. "To eat," suggested Hazelton hopefully. "To fish," added Dave Darrin promptly. "Just to lie down and take things easy," declared Danny Grin. "As for me," piped up Greg Holmes, "I'm not going to bother my head, to-night, as to why we came here. I'm going to get a ten hour nap, and in the morning I'll try to solve the riddle for you, Dick, of why we came here." A tired lot of boys, not really ready, as yet, to admit that they were used up, lay down on their cots without undressing. They intended, later, to get into their pajamas. A single lantern, its wick turned low, hung from one of the posts. Prescott did not trust himself to lie down, for his eyes, despite his efforts to keep awake, were heavy, and he did not want to sleep for some time yet. Within ten minutes Darrin alone had his eyes open, and even he was making a valiant struggle against sleep. At last, however, he yielded, and soon settled into sound slumber. "They're off in another world," smiled Dick, as he listened to the deep breathing of his chums; then he slipped away from his cot. From under a box in one corner of the tent he took out a large cup of coffee that he had hidden some time earlier. It was still warm and he drank it with relish, though his main purpose in using the beverage was to make sure of keeping himself awake. His next move was to extinguish the lantern. Now he made his way to the bucket of water and basin. Dashing the cold water into his face, and wetting his eyes well with it, Prescott took a few deep breaths. He now felt equal to keeping awake for some time. Outside, by this time, all was darkness, save where a few embers of the recent camp fire glowed dully. Dick threw himself down, resting his head on his elbows, in the doorway of the tent. "Now, don't you dare go to sleep!" he ordered himself, repeating the command frequently as a means of aiding himself to keep his eyelids from closing. "You keep awake!" he half snorted, as he felt drowsiness getting nearer. He pinched himself, inflicting more than a little pain. At last, however, the young leader of Dick & Co. found that his drowsiness had passed for the time being, like the sentinel in war time. "Now, I think I can keep awake until daylight, if I have to," muttered young Prescott to himself. "At daylight it won't be so very mean to wake one of the other fellows and let him take my place." Yet, after an hour had passed, Dick was almost doomed to discover that nature had some rights and knew how to assert them. His eyes had just closed when he awoke with a start. Someone was treading lightly past the wall of the tent, coming toward the door. Dick had barely time to glide back behind the flap of the tent when the unknown someone stopped at the doorway. It was too dark to make out anything distinctly under the canvas, but the stranger listened to the combined snorings of five of the six boys, then chuckled softly. "Oh! Funny, is it, to think that we're all asleep, and that you may help yourself at will to the food that cost us so much money!" thought Dick wrathfully. The stranger hearing no sound from the apparently sleeping camp soon passed on in the direction of the fire. Here much of the provisions had been stacked in the packing case cupboards, for the reason that to store food in the tent would seriously curtail the space that the boys wanted for comfort. Out of the tent crept Dick, crouching. His heart was beating a trifle faster than usual, perhaps, for he saw at once that the prowler was larger than himself. Before one of the box cupboards the prowler halted and rummaged inside with his hands. "I guess this is where I need a light," mused the stranger, half aloud. "Pardon me, but what do you want with a light?" inquired Prescott, at the same time pushing the stranger forward on his face. Dick now seated himself on the other's shoulders. "Don't make a fuss," Prescott advised. "I like to think myself a gentleman, and I don't want to muss you up too much." The stranger laughed. It was an easy, confident laugh that destroyed a bit of the Gridley boy's sense of mastery. "What are you doing, up at this time of night?" asked the stranger. "Minding my own business, in my own camp," Dick replied easily. "And what are you doing here? Whose business are you minding?" "My own, too, I reckon," replied the prowler more gruffly. "In other words, attending to your hunger?" pressed Prescott. "I'm looking out that I don't have too much hunger to-morrow," came the now half sullen answer. "Is this the way you usually get your food?" Dick demanded dryly. "This is the way I get most of it," came the reply. "Stealing it, eh?" "Well, what of it?" came the sulky retort. "The world owes me a living." "To be sure it does," Dick answered blithely. "The world owes every man a living. That's just why you don't need to steal. Just sail in and collect that living by means of hard work. Are you the chap who collected our steaks this evening?" "None of your business. And, now, if you've given me as much chatter as you want, get off my shoulders!" "I've a little more to say to you yet," Dick responded. "Get off my shoulders!" "I will---when I'm through with you," Dick agreed. "You'll get off at once, or I'll roll you off!" came the now angry threat. "Try it," Dick urged coolly. Right then and there the stranger did try it. He "heaved," then attempted to roll and grapple with the young camper. He would have succeeded, too, had Prescott relied upon his strength alone. But Dick employed both hands in getting a neck-hold that hurt. "Now, quit your fooling," Prescott advised, "or I'll let out a whoop that will bring five more fellows here. Do you know what they would do to you? They'd just about lynch you---schoolboy fashion. Do you know what a schoolboy lynching is?" "No," sullenly answered the stranger, as he started to renew the struggle. "You will know, soon, if you don't stop your stupid fooling," Dick told him. "Hang you, kid. Get off of me, and keep your hands away, or I'll hurt you more than you were ever hurt in your life, and I'll get away with it, too, before your friends come!" So lively did the struggle become that Dick was obliged to use his clenched fist against the side of the prowler's jaw. That quieted the stranger for an instant. Leaping lightly from his troublesome captive, Dick snatched up a heavy club of firewood that lay nearby. "That's right," Dick agreed, swinging the club, as the other rose to a sitting posture. "Sit up, but don't try to get up any farther unless you want to feel this stake, which is tougher than those other steaks!" Prescott kept nimbly out of reach of the other's arms, though he took pains to keep himself where he could jump in with a handy blow at need. "Now," remarked the high school boy, "you are getting an idea as to who's boss." "Well, what do you want?" asked the other sullenly. He had already drawn down a tattered, battered old cap so that it screened his face. "I want to get a better look at you," Prescott replied. "I want to be able to know you anywhere. Tan colored woollen shirt; brown corduroy trousers; low-cut black shoes; cap defies description. Now, let me see your face." With that Dick bent quickly, picking up an oil-soaked bunch of faggots that he had prepared before the others had turned in for the night and dropped them upon the campfire. Like a flash he was back, close to the stranger. "Don't you dare try to get up!" Dick threatened, swinging the club. "Hit me, if you dare!" leered the other. "I'm going to get upright now!" With that he made a lurching move forward. Prescott swung the club, though of course he did not intend to beat the stranger about the head. His indecision left him off his guard. The stranger closed in on the club, wrenching it from Prescott's hand and tossing it far away. But Dick dropped, wrapping his arms about the other's legs and throwing him. Just as the two went down in a crash the fire, which had been smoking, now blazed up. "I'll show you!" roared the stranger, now thoroughly aroused, as he grappled with Prescott and the pair rolled in fierce embrace over the ground. Dick was not afraid, but he didn't want this night hawk to get away, so he bellowed lustily: "Fellows! Gridley! Gr-r-r-id-ley! Quick!" "Stop that!" hissed the stranger, who was now easily uppermost, and holding Prescott with ease. "Quick!" yelled Dick. The stranger grasped the high school boy by the throat, then as swiftly changed his mind, for someone was stirring in the tent. Up leaped the prowler, yet, swift as he was, Dick was also on his feet. "Keep back!" warned the prowler, as he turned to run. "You're mine---all mine!" vaunted young Prescott, making a gallant leap at the unknown foe. But that brag was uttered just a few seconds too soon. _ |
||