A GHOST IN THE NIGHT

Mr. Blaine blew a long blast on his whistle and motioned the swimmers to come out of the water.

"You fellows are the limit to-day," he said. "You have been grouchy and listless all the afternoon, and some of you are to cranky to live. You must have worked too hard yesterday on that Indian mound. But I'll tell you one thing: you'll never have these pyramids in shape for the Fourth of July unless you get busy. Now let's have a little 'pep.' Watch for your signals! Line up!"

The fellows took their time to it and were listless. Mr. Blaine gave the order, but "Shrimp" and Dale misunderstood him and took a wrong position. He called them back into line and tried again, with characteristic patience, but to no avail.

"No use, fellows. Let's quit. All out!" He turned and walked off the pier. There was a chatter of complaining voices as the boys reluctantly came out on the beach and moved toward the locker house. Mr. Blaine turned to Cooper and the "chief."

"I never saw the fellows in that spirit before. They are sore at each other, and at me, and at everything. They need a good night's sleep. You know they wouldn't be quiet last night after the fracas. Those Twins are sure 'foxy' kids, aren't they?"

"Yes, but they were foolish to tell about the bones. They might have known the fellows would get even with them some way," replied the "chief."

"Well, I was sure there was something in the wind when we turned in last night," added Cooper. "I noticed that several fellows in my tent didn't put on their pajamas. I asked them about it, and they said it was too hot. I didn't think much about it at the time."

"Well, they certainly did duck them good and proper, anyway," went on the "chief," "and they deserved it, too, only I don't like this sour spirit we have had all day. We'll have to get rid of it at the camp fire to-night somehow."

At supper time there was a friendly rough house, and three fellows were late. They were refused supper and, of course, went off very much disgruntled.

The usual singing and yells were omitted that night at the fire, and the devotions were very brief. Then the "chief" made a suggestion.

"Fellows, we don't ever want another day in camp like this one, do we?" There was a chorus of "nos." "Well, then, I have a suggestion to make. In order that we may never again experience a day when there will be so much grouching and quarreling, set us destroy every bit of hard feeling and start over again. We are all ashamed of ourselves. Mr. Blaine has suggested that we construct to-morrow a life-sized dummy, dress him in camp attire, and call him Professor Grouch. In the evening we will begin our stunts by court-martialing the Grouch, and if we find him guilty of being the true cause of the crabbing and unrest in this camp today, we will burn him at the stake and celebrate his death with feasting. But if we find him innocent, we will seek further for the real culprit. Are you in favor?"

The first enthusiasm of the day was shown in the shouts of approval.

"Down with the Grouch!" cried Vincent.

"Mob him! Mob him!" cried Harold, brandishing a stick wildly in the air.

"Listen!" The "chief" raised his hands for silence. "There are two large piles of old logs down by the shore. In the morning we want to get out early, while it's cool, and build an immense fire with them for the destruction of the Grouch if he be guilty. Every fellow that will be on hand to help, stand up." The entire company stood up. "Now, further, fellows: To every man that puts in two good hours on that fire in the morning, we will give him credit for a 'piece of camp service.' That will enable some of you to get your Rags to-morrow night."

"That means my Brown Rag," joyously shouted Dale. "Gee, I thought I'd never get it, but now I can. Hurray! Down with Grouch!"

"Now let's start in pursuit of the enemy of to-day's fun and good spirits by a real live 'Eberhart' before we go to bed." There was never such cheering, before or since, as followed.

A judge and jury, as well as lawyers, were chosen to try the Grouch at the stunt fire the next evening, and to determine what should be done with him. Then the crowd broke up and went to their tents, all but Bill and the Twins, who had obtained permission to hunt bullfrogs that night under the direction of Mr. Cooper.

They had concealed their boat in the tall rushes on the shore, and now they slipped noiselessly to it. The necessary bag and solar lamp were already in the bow, and all was in readiness. They got in a paddled quietly past the camp-out far enough from shore so they could not be seen. They saw the fellows preparing for the evening dip and could hear their merry voices.

"What are those Three Rivers kids up to now?" came floating out over the water to them. Vincent chuckled as he listened.

"They are nowhere to be found just now," came another voice.

"O, they aren't far away, you can be sure of that," came a friendly voice from a locker house. "But keep your eyes peeled for a bucket of water or a snake or some fool stunt."

Harold laughed. "Wish I could scare them to death," he said in a whisper. "They are getting on to us."

Soon the boat slipped through he channel and into the swamp-shored Little Corey. The lamp was lighted, and Bill took his place on the bow of the boat. Cooper rowed, and the Twins balanced up the stern, taking charge of the large burlap bag that had been brought along to hold the captured monsters. From far down the lake came the hoarse croak of one big fellow. It was instantly answered from across the swamp by a second. Then one very close at hand gave a long, dismal croak, then another, and another, till the summer night reverberated with hoarse croakings.

When the hunters reached the swamp, Cooper rested on his oars and listened. The young cat-tails waved gently in the warm breeze, and here and there a large pond-lily pad spread an inviting seat for the frogs. Bill sat on the bow alert, his lamp flashing long, narrow streaks of light among the lilies and the cat-tails.

Suddenly there came a hoarse croak, so near it startled them all. Bill swung his lamp quickly in the direction of the sound, but for some reason could not locate the fellow, so perfectly did his green back blend with the surrounding color. At last, in disgust, Bill cried out, "And-a do you see him?" The big green fellow who was sitting blinking blindly at the light became frightened and, dropping off his perch, disappeared with a gurgle.

The Twins sighed, Cooper chuckled, but Bill only adjusted himself for the next surprise. Then, as if by common consent, the frogs began croaking on every side, but when pursued would become quiet again, and so were safe in the shadows of the tall grass and of the cat-tails.

It was with no little effort that the heavy boat was forced from place to place in the shallow water, in and out, back and forth among the close matted rushes, and it began to look very much as if the frog hunt would be a failure, when Bill suddenly spied a big, green fellow sitting on a clump of bent reeds, his white throat puffed out ready for a croak. He flashed the light full upon him. The frog only gave a strange guttural note of surprise, then sat and stared. Slowly the boat crept nearer. Bill extended his arm out toward the frog and the Twins strained to get a better view. Cooper gave his directions in low undertones, and Bill did as he was told. At last, the boat stopped a yard from the big, green fellow, his glassy eyes gleaming in the light. Bill made a quick grab, there was a smothered croak, a violent kicking, and the frog was held tightly in Bill's extended hand.

The Twins chattered delightedly, for they had never before seen such a frog. There in the half light and in the excitement of the moment he looked twice his real size. Bill, with a pleased smile on his face, held the frog triumphantly before the light.

"And-a what shall we call him?" he asked, dryly. No on had time to answer, for just then all frogdom seemed to croak inquiringly, in answer to the sounds coming from the burlap bag.

"This is a regular kidnapping stunt, isn't it?" began Vincent, but he was promptly silenced by a violent nudge from Harold, for already Bill had spotted a second frog and was motioning Cooper to go forward. A second capture was effected, and a third. Then Harold took Bill's place and proved himself also and expert.

On around the swamp they went, catching them at nearly regular intervals now, until they had seven. Seven great bullfrogs, all in one bag, croaking and gurgling their displeasure at being captured. It had been, in days gone by, that a bullfrog was absolutely safe on Corey Lake after dark. But now some great giant, with an eye that flashed long streaks of dazzling light here and there at his will, had come, and pandemonium reigned in frogdom.

Bill found it difficult to stay in the boat, so eager was he to lay hold on the monsters. Harold, by a slight miscalculation, missed one. So Vincent promptly declared it was time for him to try his hand at the game.

Great swarms of insects were coming to the light, and they fell in countless numbers around the hot lamp. Now and then a perch or blue-gill would rise to the surface to feast on the easy prey and to look at the strange light. The boat had slipped clear around to the far side of the lake before they realized it, and in another half-hour they were in the very middle of the swamp. They had forgotten time, place and everything except frogs. Now and then a startled blackbird would rise from her nest and scold the intruders, or a big leather-back would tumble off a hummock with a noisy splash and paddle away.

The number of captured frogs had grown to thirteen now, and it was a man's task to keep the bag in hand, so many ways did it want to jump at once.

Suddenly the lamp flickered and went out, for its water chamber had become empty. It was dark-blacker than any night the boys had ever seen. What would they do? How would they get out of the big swamp? They did not dare to dip the lantern under the water, for it was blistering hot and would crack the lense. They just sat still and thought.

"I have it," said Harold, between chattering teeth. "My shoe!" In an instant it was off and full of water. The cap was removed from the water chamber. By the sickly glimmer of a lighted match the water was slowly poured from the back of the shoe into the lamp. Harold was bending over, filling the lamp, when from somewhere in the tall reeds just ahead there came a blood-curdling, half-wild laugh, and a rattling of the dry reeds. Cooper sat suddenly upright, an oar grasped tightly in his hand, while Harold suddenly dropped lamp, shoe and all. Vincent cried out in pain, for he had held a lighted match in each hand, and they were all but burned out. Cooper spoke in a whisper.

"Sit perfectly quiet, fellows. Don't tip over, for we are over the quicksand beds."

Tales of tragedies in the quicksands pulsed through Bill's mind, and he became so absorbed for the moment that the bag of frogs slipped from his listless hands. There were one, two, three splashes before he came to himself again. The frogs were escaping! He rose, the boat tipped and dipped water, but Cooper, seeing the danger, quickly swung his weight to the other side. Bill caught the bag and, holding it tightly, glanced fearfully over his shoulder into the darkness.

"What was it, 'Coop?'" asked Harold, in a suppressed whisper. "It sounded like a woman."

"No, it sounded like a crazy man," replied Vincent.

"And-a it sounded like a ghost, didn't it?" suggested Bill, tremulously.

"It must be old Thomson's ghost pursuing evil spirits," added Cooper.

The boys made no reply, for they were thinking of the many stories that had come to them of the strange old hermit and his queer ways.

With very shaky fingers they finally induced the lamp to burn again, and slowly the boat worked its way out into the open water, thence to camp.

"Not a word of it to anyone," warned Vincent, "for they would only laugh at us."

"They'd never, never believe us," echoed Harold.

"And-a, Gee! but I was scared," laughed Bill. "I lost most all the frogs, too. Say do you suppose that thing didn't like our catching them?"

When the boat touched the camp beach and the boys were safe home again, Harold stretched himself and said, "Gee, I'd like to have seen him, though; wouldn't you?"

"Let's go hunt him up," suggested Cooper, but the boys begged off, saying they were too sleepy. Cooper knew only too well that they couldn't be induced to sleep, but he did not urge them. They slipped quietly to their tents, while Cooper climbed the hill to the lodge with the catch of frogs, and incidentally to talk with the "chief" about the incident.

"No, it was no ghost," said the "chief," laughing. "It was a loon. I've heard them often, only earlier in the season."

"A loon!" ejaculated Cooper. "'Crazy as a loon.' I never knew what that meant before, but now I do. It was an uncanny cry. Don't tell the kids though. Let them think it was old Hezekia's spirit. It will give them something to think about. Good-night!"

"Good-night!" said the "chief," and Cooper slipped off to his bed, laughing to himself.