CHAPTER XXVII

THE MAN WITH THE TURTLE

The chums took their meal at one of the two hotels in Cannistota, and, liking the appearance of the place, which the doctor had recommended, they made arrangements to stay there for a few days, during which time Fenn's arm was to receive treatment. They had adjoining rooms, and, once they had visited them, and left the few belongings they had brought from camp, they were ready to go out into the street again, and watch the preparations being made to celebrate the advent of the New Year that night.

"I know one thing we'd better do," remarked Frank, as they strolled along.

"What's that?" inquired Bart.

"Send telegrams to the folks at home, telling them where we are, and wishing them good luck for the New Year."

"Good!" exclaimed Fenn, "but don't say anything about my sore arm. My folks might worry."

This was agreed to, and then each lad wrote his own telegram, explaining briefly why he was not in the woods, the carnival forming a good reason for the change.

"This will be a good plan in case they have any word to send us," remarked Ned. "A telegram will reach us at the hotel, but it never would at camp."

Bart had taken his rifle with him when they left the hotel, and when his companions joked him about it, asking him if he expected to see a bear or a deer in the town, Bart replied:

"I want to take it to a gunmaker's and get a screw set in a little deeper," referring to one on the lock mechanism. "It works loose every once in a while, and now's a good time to have it fixed, when I'm not likely to have a use for the rifle. I intend to do a lot of hunting when we get back to camp."

As the chums strolled on, they saw, on every side, more evidences of the carnival spirit. On several side streets, as well as on the main ones, flags and bunting were in evidence, and colored electric lights were being strung. Linemen were high up on poles arranging extra wires, and others, below, were passing up the colored bulbs, or pliers, and other tools needed by their mates on the high poles. The boys watched this for some time, and then, at Bart's suggestion, they strolled toward the centre of the village.

There a still busier scene was observed. There were a number of linemen on the tall poles, and, as the boys looked on, the current was turned into the hundreds of various-hued bulbs, to test them. It was early afternoon, and much yet remained to be done in order to get the decorations completed.

The lads found a gunsmith in his shop, not far from the intersection of the main streets, and he was soon at work on Bart's rifle, talking as he worked. The boys told him of their experience in camp, and the necessity for their visit to town.

"Got scratched by a buck; eh?" remarked the old gunsmith as he gazed from under his bushy white eyebrows at the lads. "That happened to me once. Their horns seem to sort of poison a wound. I guess it's because the critters rub their antlers up against all sorts of trees and bushes. They get poisonous juices on 'em."

Soon the lads were again strolling along the street. The afternoon was passing, and presently the town, which was now thronged with visitors, would be in the full sway of the carnival.

Fenn was walking ahead of his chums, looking in the store windows, and taking care that he did not collide with persons in the crowd, and so injure his sore arm. The stout youth saw, just ahead of him, an establishment devoted to the sale of pets of various kinds. There were pigeons, white rats, puppies, gold fish, some monkeys and parrots, and scores of canary birds. As several specimens were on exhibition in the windows quite a crowd was gathered about watching the antics of a pair of monkeys. Fenn, always interested in such things, drew closer, motioning to his chums, who were walking slowly, to join him.

As he turned back toward the store he saw a man entering--a man, at the sight of whom, the stout lad started, and looked at him again, more sharply.

"I wonder if it can be--yes, it's the same man--the mysterious man we've been after so long!" murmured Fenn. "He's going in that store! I hope he didn't see me." He got behind a couple of men who were close to the window, and watched until he had seen the person he had observed close the door, after entering the store. Then Fenn turned to address his chums who were now at his side.

"What's the matter?" asked Bart, laughing. "You look as if you had seen a ghost, Stumpy."

"I've seen something more substantial than a ghost," replied the lad, "I've seen the man who stole the diamond bracelet, fellows!"

"Where?" gasped Ned and Frank.

"Hush! Not so loud," cautioned Fenn, for several persons were curiously observing the four lads. "He's in that store," went on the stout youth.

They could hardly believe him, but Fenn soon told them the circumstances, and repeated his belief in the positiveness of his identification. "I'm sure it was the same man," he said.

"Well, we'll soon see," declared Bart. "He'll have to come out, some time or other, and then we can tell. We'll just wait here a while."

A little later they were all startled to see the man, about whom there seemed to be such a mystery, come hurriedly from the store.

"There he is!" exclaimed Fenn.

"It's him, all right," assented Bart, in low tones. "Now what shall we do; follow him?"

The man turned south on the main street, and began walking rapidly away. At that instant Fenn caught sight of a package in his hand. It was a paper bundle, but, as the stout lad looked, he saw projecting from it the long, snake-like neck of a mud turtle.

"He's got a turtle!" cried Fenn, excitedly. "Let's chase after him! We must solve this mystery now or never!"