Toby had evidently been making up his mind about something, for they had hardly finished a cold lunch when he turned to Jack and remarked:

“I’ve got a hunch there ought to be some mighty good fishing over there in the river, do you know, Jack? I fetched my stuff along, and would like ever so much to make a try there this afternoon, if either of you cared to go with me.”

“Now, that’s too mean for anything,” grumbled Steve, looking quite unhappy. “I’m just as fond of fishing as the next fellow, and I’d like to take a whirl with the gamey bass of the upper reaches of Paradise River; but hang the luck, I just oughtn’t to try to walk that far.”

“What ails you, Steve?” demanded Jack; “I haven’t heard you complain any, though come to think of it, you did limp more or less when walking around this morning doing your share of the chores. Got a cramp in your leg?”

“No, but one of these shoes has rubbed my heel till it’s sore,” fretted Steve, taking off his shoe to sympathetically rub that portion of his pedal extremity. “If I expect to be able to toddle around, and have any sort of fun while we’re up 27 here I ought to keep quiet the balance of the day; and also put some sort of lotion on my heel that’ll start it to healing.”

“I can’t go with you, Toby,” Jack went on to say, “because I have planned to take advantage of this clear day to snap off a few pictures, just to get my hand in, you see. My old camera wasn’t good enough, the lady said, and so she had me step in and buy the finest in Chester. It looks like a dandy box, and I aim to pick up a lot of mighty smart photographs while we’re up in this neck of the woods.”

“Any objections then to my going off alone, Jack?”

Toby asked this with such an appealing look on his face that Jack could not find it in his heart to put any obstacle in the way.

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t take a little tramp by yourself if you feel that you just can’t wait until tomorrow, Toby,” he told the other. “Only be careful not to get lost. I’ll loan you my map, which you can study while waiting for a bite; and then again, you must carry the compass along, too. I reckon you know something about telling the points of the compass from the green moss or mould on the northwest side of nearly every tree-trunk. Yes, go if you feel disposed, but start back an hour or so before dark.”

“Just when the fishing is bound to be at its best, too,” complained Toby; “but then after I know the way, and have broken a regular trail to and 28 from the river, I can stay later. I dug a lot of worms in our garden, and picked up some whopping big night-walkers besides, so I’m all fixed for bait, I reckon.”

Eagerly then Toby secured his jointed rod, and the little canvas bag in which he kept all his paraphernalia, such as hooks, sinkers, extra lines and many other things without which a fisherman’s outfit would not be complete.

Taking his quota of bait in an empty can that had contained some Boston baked beans which the three lads had eaten cold for lunch, Toby started gaily forth, whistling as he went.

“You said the river must lie directly west of here, Jack,” he called back ere plunging into the woods; “so I’m heading that way now. I expect to take notice of everything that looks at all queer, as I go along, and make as broad a trail as I can, so I’ll have no trouble about coming back the same way I go. Steve, wish me luck, because I know you just love fried black bass.”

Thereupon Steve waved both hands after him as if in blessing.

“Hope you get a fairly good mess, Toby,” he shouted, “not more than we can manage at one sitting, because I hate a fish hog who wastes twice as much as he can make use of. But if they do bite like sixty, say, I’ll be sorry I didn’t make up my mind to limp along with you, no matter how much this heel hurts.”

So Toby vanished. They could hear his merry 29 whistle gradually growing more distant as he trudged along, keeping his face set toward the west, and doubtless making sure of this by frequent glances at the friendly compass.

“Let me take a look at that heel of yours, Steve,” said Jack, when they were thus left in charge of the camp. “Luckily I thought to fetch some magic healing salve along, and I’m sure it’ll help you a lot. We’ll fix that shoe, too, so it can’t do any more damage. I’ve had a bruised heel myself, and I know how painful it always is.”

Steve was only too willing to have Jack’s assistance; and between them the little operation was carried out. The limping camper declared his heel felt ever so much better, and he believed he would have no further trouble from that source, given a rest until the next morning.

Then Jack got out his new camera, and fussed around for half an hour or so, examining its working before loading it with a roll of film. He appeared greatly pleased with its excellent workmanship, and felt that if he only did his part the results must be exceedingly satisfactory.

“I may be gone an hour, Steve,” he told the campkeeper, as he prepared to make a start; “or, for that matter, don’t be surprised if I’m away double that length of time. A whole lot depends on what I run across interesting enough to make me take considerable pains to get a good picture of it. I mean that our kind benefactress shall at least have the worth of her money, and call it a 30 good investment, if a set of splendid pictures can fill the bill.”

“So long, Jack, and I reckon it would be silly for me to tell you not to get lost. You’ve been too long at the business to need any compass in order to get around in a strange region. But if you should stray away, remember to shout and I’ll fire the gun twice in answer.”

“It’s a bargain, Steve, and I won’t forget the signal,” chuckled Jack. “If anybody should chance to drop in on you while I’m gone, entertain them as your good sense tells you is the right thing. But remember, we’re just up here for a vacation camping trip, and nothing more.”

“Oh! I can be as close-mouthed as a clam, Jack, never fear!” sang out Steve, as the other strode away the camera held over his shoulder by its strap.

Jack was gone almost two hours. Then he once more showed up at the camp, and Steve pretended to be greatly overjoyed at seeing him.

“I was just thinking I had better get out the gun, and fire off both barrels so’s to let you know where the tent lay,” he chuckled, as though such an idea amused him considerably. “But I suppose you’ve found some things worth snapping off; how about it, Jack?”

“Yes, I used up a six-exposure film, and believe I’ve picked up some things well worth the trouble. Next time I’ll go in another direction, and farther away from camp. This is a wonderful country, 31 Steve. I don’t believe you could find grander bits of scenery than right here among the Pontico Hills. Anything unusual happen since I went away?”

“Oh! I’ve had a lot of visitors,” laughed the other boy, “slick little chaps in their fur coats one and all. They are watching us both right now, I reckon, behind the shelter of the leaves on the ground, and up in some of these big trees. There were both red squirrels, and fat gray ones that barked at me, and seemed to ask what business a chap walking on two feet had in their domain. Then chipmunks galore live around here, and the little striped fellows have already begun to get acquainted, for one ran in and picked up a bit of bread I threw, and then whisked out of sight like fun over there where he lives in the holes under the roots of that tree. Why, I’ve been so employed watching them, and talking to them, that the time has just skipped along. When I looked up at the sun just now and guessed you’d been gone nearly two hours, I had to rub my eyes and figure it all out again. You see I’m so used to telling time by clocks that it seems queer to use the sun for it.”

“No signs of Toby so far, I suppose, Steve?” asked Jack a little later, as he emerged from the tent after putting his camera safely away.

“Not a thing,” announced the other. “I hope you’re not worrying about him, Jack, and sorry already you let him go off alone. Mebbe I ought to have kept him company, sore heel or not.”

32“Don’t fret about it, Steve. Toby has common horse-sense, and could hardly get lost if he tried his hardest. You see, the formation of the valley is calculated to always set a fellow straight, even if he gets a little mixed in his bearings. It runs directly southeast to northwest around here. Besides Toby has the compass, and the sun is shining up there full tilt. He may not be in for another hour or so; but I wouldn’t be alarmed even if the sun set with him still away. The light of our campfire would serve as a guide to him, once darkness fell.”

“Yes, that’s a fact, Jack. We could build a roaring blaze that might be seen a mile and more away. I did hear one thing that surprised me.”

“What was that?” demanded the other, looking expectant, as though he could give a pretty good guess himself, which was as much as saying that he had heard the same sound.

“Why, there must be some sort of mining going on not many miles away from here,” argued Steve, “because that was surely a blast I heard half an hour ago. First I had an idea it meant a coming storm, but there wasn’t a sign of a cloud in sight. It seemed to be a deep, heavy reverberation, just like I’ve heard dynamite make at the red-sandstone quarry near Chester when the workmen at noon set off their blasts. Of course you noticed it, too, Jack?”

“Well, I should say so,” the other admitted, “and during the night both Toby and myself were 33 awakened by just the same sort of far-off dull roaring sound.”

“I must have been sound asleep then, because I never caught it,” acknowledged the other, frankly; “but if you two boys talked it over, what conclusion did you arrive at, may I ask?”

“We were undecided,” said Jack, warily. “We sort of inclined to the opinion that either a railroad was being cut through the hills over to the north, or else there might be some sort of mining or quarrying being carried on there. I told Toby that while it was an unknown quantity to us now, the chances were in our scouting around while camping here for two weeks or more, we stood to learn just what caused that queer booming sound.”

“There’s Toby whistling, as sure as anything,” announced Steve. “I figure from his merry tone that he’s met with a decent bunch of luck. Yes, there he comes, swinging through the woods, and actually following the trail he made in going out. Good boy, Toby, he’s all right.”

“And it’s fish for supper in the bargain,” asserted Jack, “for you can see he’s carrying quite a neat string of the finny beauties. There, he holds it up so you can get your mouth ready for a feast.”

As the fisherman came closer, Jack saw that he was looking a bit serious for a fellow who had been so successful in his first fishing trip to the river.

34“Something happened, I calculate, eh, Toby?” demanded Steve, also reading the signs.

“Well, yes, I’ve got a story to tell that may interest you both,” admitted Toby with an important air.