STRANGE BEHAVIOR OF SLEUTH.

Before long Piper grew restless, and his uneasiness was noticed by the others.

“What’s the mum-matter with you, Sleuth?” questioned Springer. “You’re as fidgety as a dog with fleas.”

Piper was stalking up and down in front of the tent. Without answering Springer’s question, he turned to Grant and asked the time.

“Nine o’clock,” said Rodney, after looking at his watch.

“I feel,” said Sleuth—“I feel the call of the wild. The wilderness is beckoning me to its bosom.”

“He’s got ’em again,” declared Crane.

“I must respond to the call. I must fare forth into the solitudes. I’m going away from here.”

“He’s going away from here,” repeated Grant solemnly.

“Well, I fuf-feel like doing something myself,” confessed Springer. “I’m with you, Sleuthy.”

“You are not,” retorted Piper positively. “I desire not your society nor that of anyone here. Alone I shall tread the dim trails of the forest.”

“I cal’late he’s goin’ after Injun scalps,” said Sile.

Piper turned a piercing look on the lanky fellow. “Of late,” he said, “although my mind has been greatly occupied with other matters, I have given a little thought to a most peculiar occurrence which transpired on the first night after we pitched our camp in the wilderness. The party from whom I obtained the sleeping bag that I brought with me had been keeping that bag in the attic of his settlement home, and it is not often that common black ants penetrate to the attic of a house and make their nests there. I likewise recall that, ere I sought to occupy the bag for the night, someone made remarks about the probability that it would be hot to sleep in and would cause me to itch. Furthermore, in summing up, I remember a certain individual who, after I had gotten into the bag, took great pains to tie it up securely around my neck, so that I could not get out without assistance. Although I may not lift the scalp of some bloodthirsty Wampanoag, I will confess that these meditations of which I speak have led me to thirst for the topknot of a certain paleface who thinks himself very smart—and was smart, in a certain sense, on an occasion not far remote.”

“Why, Sleuth,” drawled Crane, “I hope yeou don’t think——”

Piper held up his hand. “Don’t convict yourself by unnecessary protestations. Even now I am loath to believe that a comrade could be so perfidious. The sadness which the bare suspicion brings to me adds to my longings to be alone. Perhaps the solitudes will cleanse my heart of resentment. Farewell until I return.”

“But when do you expect to return?” asked Stone, as Piper started away.

“That I can’t tell; it may be hours before you again look upon my countenance. However long the time is, I bid you not to worry. I shall return in due course, even though, ere my return, the sun may linger low in the western sky.” Then, with the stealthy step of a trapper, he slipped into the woods and was gone.

“He’s on to you, Craney,” laughed Springer. “You bub-better watch out.”

“Oh, Sleuth’s harmless,” laughed Sile; “and, anyhaow, I can’t help thinkin’ it’s more than a desire for solitude that’s sent him pikin’ off into the woods all by his lonesome.”

Whatever the reason for Piper’s action, and despite the fact that he had told them hours might pass before his return, they finally began to wonder over the matter, with the afternoon on the wane and no sign of their absent companion. They had occupied themselves in various ways, but at last whatever task or game they took up was broken and interrupted by frequent pauses to look for Piper and to seek one another’s opinions concerning this “new freak” of his.

“Perhaps,” suggested Grant, as at last they lounged before the tent, “he has gone alone to solve the mystery of Spirit Island.”

Springer immediately scoffed at this. “Dud-don’t you believe anything of the sort. There isn’t money enough to hire him to go on to that island alone.”

“Besides,” said Crane, “haow could he get there? He didn’t take the canoe.”

“He must be hungry,” said Stone. “He hasn’t had any dinner.”

Five minutes later some distance away on the lake they perceived a small white rowboat that seemed to be heading for their camp. In the boat a single person plied the oars industriously.

“We’re going to have a visitor” said Stone. “Wonder who it is?”

“Cuc-can’t be Mr. Granger,” was Springer’s immediate decision. “He came in a canoe t’other time.”

“It doesn’t look like Granger,” said Grant, stepping out from the trees and shading his eyes with his hand. “Great Caesar! fellows, I believe it’s Piper!”

“Piper! No, no; you must be mistaken.”

But, as they watched the boat draw nearer and were able to get a better view of its occupant, they were compelled to acknowledge that he looked like Sleuth. And Sleuth it was who came rowing serenely into the cove and beached the boat.

“Ho, comrades!” he hailed, stepping out. “I have returned. I am with you once again.”

They surrounded him.

“Where have you been?”

“What kept you so long?”

“Wh-where did you get that boat?”

“What sort of a rinktum be yeou cuttin’ up naow?”

“Restrain your impatience, I beseech you,” said Piper, pulling the boat up securely. “In good time I will reveal all. Just now, if you’ve any cold snack in the larder, I would satiate the cravings of the inner man.”

Nor could they induce him to relieve their curiosity until he had eaten. When, presently, he wiped a few crumbs from his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned with a sigh of satisfaction against the trunk of a tree, they again insisted on an explanation.

“Friends and fellow citizens,” began Sleuth.

“This ain’t no stump speech,” interrupted Crane. “Come daown to earth and get it aout of yeour system as quick as yeou can.”

“Well, then, I’ve been visiting.”

“Visiting?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“The gentleman who called on us and entertained us with such beautiful, well-polished and interesting tales.”

“Granger,” said Grant.

Sleuth nodded. “Yes, I was seized by a consuming desire to visit Mr. Granger in his cabin retreat.”

“But how did you gug-gug-get across there?” asked Springer. “Did you tut-tramp it all the way round the lake?”

“If you will kindly permit me to recount my doings in my own way, you will become informed in a manner regular and satisfactory. I did not walk around the lake shore. I have never seen a fiction writer in the throes of composition, and always I have longed to know how they do it. Therefore, it didn’t take me long to decide that I would casually drop in upon Mr. Charles Granger with the design of discovering him at his labors. With this in my mind, I made arrangements with Simpson to take me across the lake in his boat at ten o’clock today.”

“Why didn’t you tut-tell us what you was going to do?” questioned Phil, a bit resentfully.

“Because I feared that some of you would insist on accompanying me, and it was not at all likely that Granger would be pleased to have several of us come in upon him. Furthermore, I wished to ask him some questions concerning his labors and his methods of writing stories, and it is said that some authors are much disinclined to talk about their business. I fancied that, alone, I could obtain much more satisfaction. It was necessary for Simpson to show me where Granger was to be found.”

“And you found him?” said Grant.

“I found him. Simpson left me, that he might return to his arduous labors upon his father’s farm. Alone, I approached the log cabin, which is temporarily occupied by Charles Granger. As I drew near, the clicking of a typewriter came to my ears, and I perceived that the cabin door was standing open to admit air and sunshine. With the stealthy tread of a redskin I slipped up to that door and peered in. There was the author, hard at work, his typewriter mounted on a little table and sheets of manuscript scattered all about. He was so absorbed that he did not hear me, and for some moments I watched him in silence. Presently he lifted his head and sat back to meditate, without doubt, upon the clever construction of some involved sentence. Chancing to turn his eyes in my direction, he perceived me and jumped to his feet as if shot.

“I will not pretend,” proceeded Piper, “that Granger was pleased on beholding me. In fact, he seemed much annoyed, and in fervid language he desired to know what I was doing there. Beaming on him in a friendly fashion, I entered and explained that I had heard he was a writer of fiction, and that, therefore, my curiosity had been awakened and spurred to a two-minute clip. After a time, perceiving perhaps no token of guile in my demeanor, Granger cooled down and laughed over the start I had given him. He was genuinely pleasant and friendly, and we chatted for some time. He even showed me one or two of his stories in a publication, but he admitted that far more came back than were accepted and paid for.”

“Well, did yeou hang araound there all the afternoon?” asked Crane.

“Indeed, no, comrade—indeed, no,” replied Piper. “I will admit that my call was more or less protracted, but, on perceiving that the genial host was becoming aweary, I took the hint and departed. Having for some time felt the desire to visit the hotel, I seized the opportunity. It is a splendid establishment for the entertainment of the summer vacationist with a long purse and a yearning desire to be separated from his good money, and it seems to be prospering. Why should it not, having near at hand such attractions as Lovers’ Leap and the haunted island?”

“But the bub-boat,” said Springer—“where did you get the bub-boat?”

“At the boathouse connected with the hotel. They have boats of various kinds for the pleasure of the guests, and, for my own special use, I hired the one in which you saw me returning. Had to plank down four dollars a week for its use, and pay the first four bones in advance.”

“Yeou extravagant boob!” cried Sile. “I didn’t knew yeou had four whole dollars to yeour name.”

“Indeed,” said Sleuth loftily, “I have much more than that; but a man of wealth seldom boasts of his possessions.”

“It was right thoughtful of you to hire a boat,” said Grant. “One canoe was not sufficient for the whole of us, but now we can all go fishing on the lake at the same time, if we wish.”

“You failed to observe, I think,” returned Sleuth, “that I stated I secured that boat for my own special use.”

“Hang it!” exploded Springer. “You don’t mean to sus-say that you’re not going to let the rest of us use it at all? That would be downright hoggish.”

“If I desire company in the boat,” retorted Piper, “I’ll extend an invitation. Otherwise, I, alone, will use it.”

“Kick me,” exclaimed Crane in disgust, “if I ever figgered it aout that yeou was that kind of a narrer-contracted, selfish critter! Sleuthy, yeou’re showin’ a side of your nater that makes me plumb ashamed of yeou.”

“He’s joking,” said Stone.

“I never was more serious in my life,” averred Piper.

Nor did their scorn and ridicule seem to have the least effect upon him; in spite of it he continued to caution them not to trespass. Their indignation turned to coldness, but still he was unmoved.

“I have my reasons,” he declared, “and, until I see fit to reveal them, it will be a waste of time to pester me.” After a few moments of silence he added: “Do you know, comrades, I believe I can write stories myself.”

This remark was received with an outburst of amused derision, and Piper shut up like a clam.