You can take the motor-dory, if you like. The letters are in that box over there; and the bag hangs over it see? You take the mail over and bring back whatever there is and distribute it in the letter-boxes yonder. Whos the other ferry-boy?
Speede, answered Bob Hethington, referring to the bulletin.
Well, thats all right, said Tom. Dan knows all about it. You let him attend to it, but youll have to go along, you know.
Dont let him work any games on you, advised Bob dryly.
Nelson made a mental resolution that he wouldnt.
Then Tom explained about the duties. Every fellow had something to do. There were four lamp-boys, who filled, trimmed, and cleaned the lanterns and lamps all through the camp; four shore-boys, who looked after the landing and the boats; four fire-boys, who cut wood for and built the camp-fire and the fire in Birch Hall; four camp-boys, who swept out and tidied up the dormitories and the recreation hall; three mess-boys, who set the tables and waited at them; two color-boys, who saw to the hoisting and lowering of the flags in the camp and at the landing; two ferry-boys; one historian, who wrote the history of the day; two orderlies, to whom the others reported, and who in turn reported to the officer of the day (one of the councilors); one police, whose duty it was to keep the camp-grounds clean, and one substitute, who stood ready to take on the duties of any of the fellows who might be ill or away from camp. The duties changed day by day, and the penalty for intentional non-performance of them, as Tom explained with gusto, was to be ducked in the lake by the other chaps.
Then a couple of the camp-boys clattered in with brooms, and the trio were glad to make their escape. Tom and Bob hurried away to their neglected duties, and Nelson idled back to Maple Hall with the intention of getting his things arranged. But the other two camp-boys were busily at work there and raising such a dust that he retreated. Just outside, on the scene of last nights conflagration, two fellows were bringing brush and piling it up for the evenings camp-fire. In the rear doorway of Spruce Hall Mr. Ellery was coaching one of the juniors in Latin. Near-by a freckled-faced youngster with a pointed stick was spearing bits of paper and other rubbish and transferring them to a basket which he carried. Every one seemed very busy, and Nelson wondered whether the fire-boys would be insulted if he offered to aid them. But at that moment he heard his name called, and saw Tom beckoning him from in front of the mess-hall. As Nelson answered the hail he saw that Dan Speede was with Tom, and surmised that an introduction was in order. Speede shook hands, and said, with that irritating smile on his handsome face, that he was glad to know Nelson, and Nelson muttered something that sounded fairly amiable. Speede was getting on his nerves, for some reason or other; perhaps because he looked so confoundedly well pleased with himself and appeared to look on everybody else as a joke prepared for his special delectation.
I know one or two Hillton fellows rather well, Dan said, and he mentioned their names. One of them was a special friend of Nelsons, but the fact didnt lessen his irritation to any degree.
Were ferry-boys, Dan continued. Suppose we go over now? It isnt quite nine, but no one ever waits, anyhow.
All right, Nelson answered.
They left Tom, put the letters in the bag at Birch Hall, and went down the path. There wasnt much conversation on Nelsons part, but Dan rattled on carelessly from one thing to another without seeming to care whether his companion answered or not. At the landing he threw the bag into the motor-dory and climbed in, followed by Nelson.
Theyve got quite a navy here, observed the latter.
Yep; steam-launch thirty feet long, motor-dory, four steel skiffs, three canoes, one punt, and two four-oared barges only the barges arent down here yet. All aboard!
Nelson took the lines and off they chugged straight for the corner of Bear Island, where the red-and-white banner of Camp Wickasaw floated above the trees.
Hold her off a little more, advised Dan; theres a shoal off the end of the island. He was gazing steadily toward the landing there, and Nelson noticed that he looked disappointed. Pshaw! said Dan presently; I guess theyve gone on ahead.
Who?
The Wickasaw fellows. They have a little old sixteen-foot launch which they think can go. We usually get here in time to race them over.
Who beats?
We do usually. Last time I raced with them this pesky dory stopped short half-way across. I thought theyd bust themselves laughing. Thats why I hoped wed meet them this morning.
Too bad, said Nelson. What sort of a camp is Wickasaw?
Dan shrugged his shoulders disdainfully. No good. The fellows sleep between sheets and sing hymns every night before they go to bed. Besides, the worst of it is, they have women there.
Is it a big camp?
Only about twenty fellows this year.
Presently Nelson asked another question: Can you walk from the camp over to the village?
Yes, theres a good road. Dan nodded toward the end of the lake. But its pretty near two miles, I guess. I never walked it.
Crescent proved to be the tiniest sort of a settlement. There were no more than half-a-dozen buildings in sight. To the right of the landing was a high stone bridge, through which, as Dan explained, the water from the lake flowed on into Hipps Pond by way of a small river, and so, eventually, to Lake Winnipesaukee.
Youd better go up front, advised Dan, and jump onto the landing when we get up to it. Take the painter with you.
Nelson obeyed. The dory wormed its way in between a lot of rowboats, the propeller stopped, and Dan poised himself for a leap as the boat drifted in. When it was still some three or four feet away from the float he jumped. All would have gone well with him if at the very moment of his take-off the dory had not, for some unaccountable reason, suddenly started to back away. The result was that Nelson landed in five feet of water, with only his hands on the float. It was something of a task to crawl over the edge, but he managed it finally and sat down in a pool of water to get his breath. Then he glanced up and encountered Dans grinning countenance and understood. But he only said:
That was farther than I thought, or else the boat rocked. Throw me the painter and Ill pull you in.
Dan, his smile broadening at what he considered Nelsons innocence, tossed the rope and jumped ashore with the bag.
I guess Ill let you go up alone, said Nelson. Im too wet to visit the metropolis.
Dan said All right, and disappeared with the mail-bag. Nelson climbed back into the boat and started the motor. The sun was warm, and after taking his shoes off and emptying the water out of them he was quite comfortable. He even smiled once or twice, apparently at his thoughts. Presently Dan appeared around the corner of the nearest building, and Nelson quietly pushed the dory away from the landing.
What did you start her up for? asked Dan. Shell get all hot and smelly if you do that.
Oh, I just wanted to see if I could do it, answered Nelson. Pitch the bag in; Ill catch it.
Dan did so.
Youll have to bring her in, you know, he said. I cant walk on water.
But you can walk on land, cant you? asked Nelson sweetly.
Walk on ? Hold on, you idiot, youre backing her!
Must be something wrong with her, replied Nelson calmly. He reached for the tiller-line, swung the dorys nose toward the camp, shot the lever forward, and waved gaily at Dan. Its only two miles, you know, he called, as the boat chugged away. And its a good road!
Youll have to bring her in, you know, he said. I cant walk on water.
But you can walk on land, cant you? asked Nelson sweetly.
Walk on ? Hold on, you idiot, youre backing her!
Must be something wrong with her, replied Nelson calmly. He reached for the tiller-line, swung the dorys nose toward the camp, shot the lever forward, and waved gaily at Dan. Its only two miles, you know, he called, as the boat chugged away. And its a good road!
He looked back, expecting to hear Dan explode in a torrent of anger. But he didnt; he merely stood there with his hands in his pockets and grinned. Half-way across the lake Nelson turned again and descried Dans form crossing the bridge on the road back to camp. Nelson winked gravely at the mail-bag.
CHAPTER IV
RELATES HOW NELSON BORROWED A LEAF FROM BOB, AND HOW DAN CRIED QUITS
There wasnt much about gas-engines that Nelson didnt know, for ever since he was old enough to walk his family had spent a portion at least of every summer at the shore, and of late years a gasoline-launch had been a feature of the vacation program. To be sure, a power-dory was rather a trifling thing after a thirty-six-foot cruising-launch, and the engine left much to be desired, but it got along pretty well, and Nelson wished he didnt have to return to camp, but might turn the dorys head up the lake and go cruising. But perhaps they would let him take the dory some other time. Tom Ferris was on the pier when the boat came within easy hail.
Wheres Dan? he asked.
Coming back by road.
Road?
Yes; he decided to walk.
What for? asked Tom incredulously.
Nelson shook his head. Exercise, I guess, he answered, as he steered the dory in under the boom. Here! catch the bag, will you?
It was evident that Tom was far from satisfied with the information supplied, for all the way up the hill he shot suspicious glances at Nelson, and stumbled over numerous roots and stones in his preoccupation. But he didnt discover anything more, at least from Nelson.
After the mail was distributed in Birch Hall the two boys got their rackets and balls and climbed the hill, past the spring and the little sunlit glade where church service was held on Sundays, until a tiny plateau was reached. Here was the tennis-court, fashioned with much difficulty and not altogether guiltless of stones, but not half bad for all that. It was well supplied with back-nets a fortunate circumstance, since the woods closed in upon it on all sides, and balls once lost in the undergrowth would have been difficult to find. Tom, considering his bulk, played a very fast and steady game, and succeeded in securing one of the three sets which they managed to finish before the assembly sounded at eleven oclock and they fled down the hill to the lake.
The morning bath, or soak, as it was called, was compulsory as regarded every camper. Nothing save absence or illness was allowed to excuse a fellow from this duty. Tom and Nelson donned their bathing trunks and pushed their way out onto the crowded pier. Two of the steel boats were occupied by councilors, whose duty it was to time the bathers and keep an eye on adventurous swimmers. The boys lined the edge of the pier and awaited impatiently the signal from Mr. Ellery. Presently, All in! was the cry, and instantly the pier was empty, save for a few juniors whose inexperience kept them in shallow water along the little sandy beach. The water spouted in a dozen places, and one by one dripping heads bobbed above the surface and their owners struck out for the steps to repeat the dive. Nelson found the water far warmer than he was accustomed to at the beaches; it was almost like jumping into a tub for a warm bath. When he came to the surface after a plunge and a few vigorous kicks under water he found himself close to the boat occupied by Dr. Smith. He swam to it, laid hold of the gunwale, and tried to wipe the water from his eyes.
Whats the trouble, Tilford? asked the councilor smilingly.
I guess my eyes are kind of weak, Nelson answered. The water makes them smart like anything.
Better keep them closed when you go under. It isnt the fault of your eyes, though; its the water.
But they never hurt before, sir.
Where have you bathed in fresh water?
No, sir salt.
Thats different. The eyes are used to salt water, but fresh water irritates them.
I should think it would be the other way, said Nelson, blinking.
Not when you consider that all the secretions of the eye are salty. Tears never made your eyes smart, did they?
No, sir; thats so. Its funny, though, isnt it?
Well, its like a good many other things, Tilford strange until you get used to it. I suppose you swim pretty well?
Oh, I dont know, sir. Ive swam all my life, I guess, but I dont believe Im what youd call a dabster.
I wouldnt think of calling you that, anyhow, laughed the Doctor, for I dont think I know what it means. But how about diving?
Nelson shook his head.
Ive never done much of that. Ive usually bathed in the surf, you see. Id be scared silly if I tried what those fellows are doing.
The fellows referred to were standing on a tiny platform built up a good ten feet above the floor of the pier. One by one they launched themselves into the lake, at least eighteen feet below, some making straight dives, some letting themselves fall and straightening out just as they reached the surface, and one, who proved to be Dan Speede, turning a backward somersault and disappearing feet first and hands high over head.
That was a dandy, wasnt it? asked Nelson with enthusiasm.
Yes; I guess Speedes the star diver here. But he takes mighty big risks sometimes. If you want to try a dive Ill watch you and see if I can help you any with criticism.
All right, but I just jump off when I dive, said Nelson. But Id like to learn, sir.
So he swam over to the steps, reaching them just ahead of Dan, and walked along the pier to a place where there was no danger of striking the steam-launch which was tied alongside. He had just reached a position that suited him and was standing sideways to the water, when there as an exclamation, some one apparently stumbled into him, and he went over like a ninepin, striking the water in a heap and going so far under he thought he would never come up again. But he did finally, his lungs full of water and his breath almost gone from his body came up choking and sputtering to see Dan looking down with that maddening grin on his face, and to hear him call:
Awfully sorry, Tilford. I tripped on a knot-hole!
Nelson coughed and spat until some of the water was out of him and it was odd how disagreeable it tasted after salt water and turned to swim back. Dr. Smith was smiling broadly as Nelson passed, and the latter called, We wont count that one, sir.
Dan was awaiting him on the pier, apparently prepared for whatever Nelson might attempt in the way of revenge. But Nelson took no notice of him. This time he made his dive without misadventure, and then swam out to the Doctor to hear the latters criticism.
That wasnt so bad, Tilford. But you want to straighten out more and keep your feet together. And I wouldnt try to jump off at first; just fall forward, and give the least little bit of a shove with your feet at the last moment.
Ill try it again, said Nelson.
This time Dan did not see Nelson as the latter came along the pier. He was standing near the edge, daring Hethington to go over with his hands clasped under his knees, and knew nothing of his danger until he found himself lifted from his feet. Then he struggled desperately, but Nelson had seized him from behind and his hands found no clutch on his captors wet body. The next instant he was falling over and over in a most undignified and far from scientific attitude. He tried to gather himself together as he struck the water, but the attempt was not a success, and he disappeared in a writhing heap. Like Nelson, he came up choking and gasping, trying his best to put a good face on it, but succeeding so ill that the howls of laughter that had greeted his disappearance burst forth afresh. But, thought Nelson, he was a wonderful chap to take a joke, for, having found his breath, he merely swam quickly to the steps and came up onto the pier looking as undisturbed as you please.