Part 2

In the early morning Joe heard the shouts of the merry crowd as they went down through the Academy grounds to the river where the steamer was waiting to take the party out to the island. The boys were laden with blankets, fishing-rods, guns, or other warlike implements; while tents and cooking utensils were taken along in a waggon.

David Winter remained behind with Joe until the whistle sounded, feeling sure that the culprit would confess at the last moment, and that Joe would go after all.

Finding that the hope had been a vain one, he gave Joe a parting hug that would have done credit to the most affectionate bear in the world, and without a word darted out of the room.

As soon as Joe was alone he opened a little note that he had been holding tight in his hand--one that Mr. Bernard had put there himself when he came to the door to say good-bye.

It was a short note, but it gave Joe a great deal of pleasure,

"DEAR BOY,--I am sure you know that I am more than sorry to leave you behind.

"It seems to me the only way to reach the offender, and I hope he will yet confess. Be sure I shall send for you at once if he should do so. Meanwhile don't go home. The summons may come at any time. Yours with affection, J. W. BERNARD."

The boat was gay with flags that streamed from every available point, and the band was playing the liveliest airs as the boys stepped on board.

"Are we all here?" asked Mr. Bernard, as he stood on the top of the saloon and glanced over the crowd of lads.

"All but little Joe!" said one or two boys a little spitefully.

"Carver isn't here yet, sir!" said another.

"Sure enough; where is Carver?" asked the teacher.

"Blow the whistle again!" shouted Mr. Bernard.

"Drayton is missing too!" exclaimed Mr. Andrews.

"O father, here's a note one of the chambermaids gave me for you. I forgot all about it," cried Max Bernard, the teacher's little son, who was to make one of the party.

Mr. Bernard opened the note hastily and read:--

"MR. BERNARD,--I can't go with you. Let Joe Chester go, please. I did the mischief, and was afraid to tell. Ben Carver knew about it, but did not do it. We are going off together. Please send our fathers word that we are safe. RALPH DRAYTON.

"_P.S._--I was never sorrier in my life, Mr. Bernard."

Mr. Bernard read the note again carefully, and then said to the waiting crowd,--

"Drayton and Carver have gone, they do not say where; but in this note which they leave behind, Drayton confesses that he is the guilty person."

A murmur of astonishment passed around the throng of boys, which was changed to a cheer when Mr. Bernard added,--

"Who will go back for Chester?"

A score of eager voices shouted, "I, sir!" and before he could speak again a dozen boys had leaped ashore, led by David Winter, and were scampering like a herd of wild deer across the fields towards the Academy boarding-house, each determined to be first in announcing the good news to Joe Chester.

It was at least a mile from the shore to the house, and the boys raced as they had never raced before, Dave, Joe's "chum" and room-mate, keeping the lead all the way, but with such an effort that he only reached the head of the stairs as one or two of the other boys reached the foot.

Without stopping to knock, he pushed open the door, and fell upon Joe, who, hearing the rush of feet, had come forward with eager expectation.

"What's the matter, Dave?" Joe cried in real alarm, as the boy, too breathless to speak, incoherently gasped, "It's all right! You are to go. Come on, old boy!"

The other boys were in the room now, and as all were panting and holding their sides, it was rather difficult for Joe to make out the story they had come to tell.

But he was to go to the island after all; he knew that, and that was good news enough.

He gathered, also, that Drayton had confessed and was missing.

"Where did you say they are gone?"

"Nobody knows."

"Nobody cares!" added another.

"I care," said Joe boldly. "I wish I had time to hunt him up!"

"You, of all fellows! You hunt him up!" exclaimed Frank Furman.

"The idea of your troubling yourself about him!" cried Dave angrily. "You make me mad, Joe!"

"But I know something how he was feeling, and what a hard thing it was for him to confess."

"Never mind him!" said Dave impatiently. "The boat is waiting! Where's your baggage?"

"I'll take your rod," said Ned Gould, taking Joe's fishing-rod from the hooks.

"No, not that one. Ralph left his for me. The janitor brought it around; he said he found it in the hall. Poor Ralph!" said Joe, examining the paper tied to the rod with the address, "For Joe Chester."

"Humph! that's the least he could do!" grumbled Dave. "Come, get your things together quick!" and he pulled Joe's valise from under the bed.

Joe was too excited to help much, but among them all they soon had the valise filled; and with a whoop that would have delighted the heart of a red Indian, the boys dashed downstairs, nearly crushing the janitor, who was labouring slowly up to investigate the noise coming from Room 8.

The race back to the steamboat was not quite so brisk as that to the house had been, but they were not long on the way.

They were hailed by the throng of boys on the boat with cheer after cheer as they came in sight, and most of the boys leaped ashore and rushed to greet the hero of the occasion, who was quite overcome with congratulations and expressions of delight.

Mr. Bernard had gone to make inquiries about the two missing boys, and the boat was kept waiting till nearly noon, when he came with the tidings that Drayton and Carver had sailed that morning in a fishing-smack from that very wharf.

Mr. Bernard had also written to the boys' parents, giving a brief account of the trouble, with information in regard to their sailing, the name of the vessel, and the time when it might be expected to return to port. At the close he had expressed his regret that he must decline to receive the boys again as pupils.

"Gone in a fishing-smack!"--"Such high-toned fellows, too!"

These were some of the exclamations of the boys.

The delay was over at last.

The boat swung around from the pier and steamed away; the band played "Bonnie Dundee," and the boys' shouts quite drowned the music.

The day was beautiful and bright, and every one was in high spirits, as the little boat puffed its way out between the capes and towards Whaleback, which lay within sight, and among scores of white sails, from that of the tiniest wherry up to the broad canvas of the huge ships sailing proudly away to foreign ports.

They passed one fishing-smack on which somebody thought he espied two boys who looked about Drayton and Carver's size; but when they passed it no one but the captain and his one helper could be seen.

"I'll bet Drayton and Carver are down in that cabin. I just know I saw them dodge; besides, I saw the twinkle in that old fisherman's eye," said Dick Wooster.

The orders were for the steamboat to land its passengers on the southern side of Whaleback; and as they steamed past the lighthouse on its rocky perch, and the long line of jagged coast against which the waves were dashing furiously, the boys wondered how they were to get ashore. On rounding the southern end, a fine pebbly beach, sheltered a little by projecting points of land, offered a comfortable entrance for boats.

The steamboat anchored outside, and four boats were lowered and speedily filled with boys, who were almost ready to jump overboard and swim ashore in their eagerness to land.

The landing occupied some time, as the boats made many trips before all the boys, tents, bedding, stove, cooking utensils, and, last but not least, the provisions for the hungry crowd, could be put on shore.

Jonas Brown, the cook, and his man Freitag (conveniently translated by the boys, "Friday"), attended to that part of the labour, and long before the boxes and barrels were all ashore, the boys were demanding something to eat.

Some started off on an exploring tour; others helped to put up the tents; and some of the hungriest went grubbing in the clam-beds,[#] still wet with the receding tide.

[#] Clams are shell-fish, used for food.

"Here are clam-forks, boys," shouted Jonas. "Glad to have your help. You dig the clams, and I'll build up my fire and get ready for a bake. I reckon that will taste as good as anything."

"A clam-bake! a clam-bake! Who will dig clams?"

More boys volunteered than could find forks to dig with; but not to be outdone, some of them worked with sticks, prying in the mud wherever the little holes indicated the presence of the shell-fish.

Jonas showed those who had forks how to strike them deep into the beds, and the boys were apt scholars; so that by the time the rocks were well heated, and the sea-weed gathered, there were clams enough piled up on the shore to furnish a feast even for such a crowd of boys.

While the clams were slowly baking under their sea-weed cover, Jonas and his Friday pitched their cook-tent, set up their stove, and baked biscuits to be eaten with the clams.

Long before the roast was pronounced "done," the boys were on hand waiting for the sea-weed to be removed, and a hungrier pack of young savages never danced around a clam-pile.

A barrel of biscuits had been opened on their first arrival at the island, and the boys had "taken the sharp edge off their appetite," as they said, by eating them; otherwise Jonas would never have been able to bring those clams to the stage of perfection that he did.

"Come, Jonas! they are done to a turn!" cried the impatient boys.

"They will lose all their goodness in that good smell," said Joe, sniffing the air.

All noses went up, and fifty boys gave a prolonged "Ah! Isn't that gul--orious?"

It did seem that Jonas was provokingly slow in testing those clams; but at last he said, in his drawling way, "Well, now, I reckon them'll do!"

The boys cheered this remark, and hastened to offer their assistance in removing the sea-weed; but Jonas declined their offer in a most decided way.

"Now, you just move off, every boy of you! or you shan't have a clam. Off with you, till I get 'em out in piles, and give every one a fair chance!"

The boys knew by experience that it was policy to keep Jonas good-natured; so, with a good deal of pushing and whooping, they widened the circle, and contented themselves with watching the operations and exhorting Jonas to "hurry up."

"Now, that there pile belongs to the gentlemen!" said Jonas, pointing to the first heap that he threw down on the clean pebbles.

"O Jonas! aren't we all gentlemen?" asked Walter Martin, and a chorus of groans followed from the other boys.

Jonas vouchsafed no reply, but continued to shovel out clams and divide them into a half-dozen piles along the beach; while the boys danced around, awaiting the signal of the bell.

Freitag presently appeared with the great bell, and, although the summons was wholly unnecessary so far as the boys were concerned, as they had been at the scene of action for nearly an hour, it brought the teachers from their work of tent-raising.

After a blessing asked by Mr. Bernard, permission was given to the hungry crowd to attack the shellfish.

There were three courses provided--roast clams, then warm biscuit, and finally a dessert of gingersnaps, a barrel of which stood open from which all helped themselves.

Fortunately the boys were not difficult to suit, and they pronounced it a meal fit for a king.

*CHAPTER IV.*

*IN CAMP.*

After the dinner Mr. Bernard said, "There are two dozen hatchets, and I want two dozen boys to use them."

"Oh yes, the fir-boughs to be chopped!" said a dozen voices.

"I'll chop!"

"I'm the boy for a hatchet!"

In a minute the two dozen hatchets were seized, and as soon as the boys received their directions about the bushes they were allowed to cut, they started off for the pasture, followed by a crowd to drag the boughs back to camp, where others of the party, who had done the same work before, were to lay them down for beds. The pasture where the boys had gone for the fragrant fir-boughs extended across the end of the island and stretched back a half-mile to the woods,--a dense growth of hemlocks, junipers, firs, oaks, beeches, wild cherries, thorn trees, and hazel bushes. Along the course of a stream running from a spring grew rows of alders, over which ran the clematis; and along the edge of the water-course grew clumps of ferns and patches of velvety moss.

These woods extended for a mile, thinning at the other end of the island into a bush-covered pasture that, a little later in the season, would furnish all the blueberries and whortleberries the boys would want, and, later still, would be a garden of golden-rods and wild asters. All around the shore of the island, except at the southern end, was a border of rough boulders and cliffs, upon the highest of which was perched the lighthouse, with its revolving lantern.

While the boys were at work in the pasture, Jonas and Freitag were putting up their long tables of matched boards and covering the whole with oilcloth, "to look more civilized-like than bare boards," Jonas said.

Then the great baskets of tinware were unpacked, and the table set for the next meal; for Jonas had camped out before with Mr. Bernard's school, and he knew that they liked to see signs of the next meal as soon as one was disposed of. Moreover, he had discovered that they were less likely to be around sampling the crackers if they saw the table set. He may have been deceived in this, but Jonas was a pretty keen observer, especially in the line of his profession.

Seeing some of the boys idle, Jonas called, "Here, you fellows, catch me some fish for supper. There's plenty of chances along the shore yonder. I saw 'em when we came past.--You go along too, Freitag, and help 'em."

The boys were all eager for the sport.

"Here's bait, and a big pile of fishing-rods all rigged. Take that there big basket for your fish," continued Jonas, as if he were giving orders to a group of fishermen.

The boys, however, followed his directions good-naturedly, each seizing a rod, but leaving "Friday," as they called the man, to bring on the bait and fish-basket.

"Remember your promise, boys, not to go into dangerous places," called Mr. Bernard.

"Yes, sir, we will be careful," answered the boys. They were soon perched on the rocks, dropping their hooks into the water and pulling them out, exclaiming, "I've got a bite!"

"So have I."

"My! ain't they plenty!"

"There's one! Hold on, my beauty! Let go my hook!"

It was lively work, as they said, and presently they had enough to do to bait hooks and take off fish without much talking. Jonas gave a grunt of satisfaction as Freitag came dragging the heavy basket and exclaiming, "Py, but dat was a pig pizness!"

"Now, I can get a supper as is a supper!" exclaimed the cook.--"Freit, you just get them fish ready, and I'll cut up the pork. It ain't nigh supper-time, of course; dinner isn't much more than over, so you boys go off somewhere. Why don't you go see the lighthouse?"

Now Jonas was very cunning in making this suggestion, for he knew the lighthouse was at the other end of the island, a mile and a half away, and if the crowd would only start on that pilgrimage, he could have peace and quiet, and get supper at his leisure. His suggestion seemed good to the boys, and they cried, "Oh yes, the lighthouse!"

"Hurrah for the lighthouse!"

"Mr. Bernard, may we go to the lighthouse?"

Mr. Bernard was in his tent; but hearing his name called, he came outside.

"We want to go to the lighthouse. Can we go?"

"Yes, if Mr. Andrews is ready to go now; he has an errand there to see about a supply of milk. Now, boys, I have not found out the dangerous places on the island, and until we have explored a little ourselves, I want you to use extra precautions. Remember, no bathing except on the beach where we landed; that slopes very evenly, and I think there is no under-current."

"We will be careful, sir."

"We will remember," said the boys.

"Come on; who wants to go to the lighthouse?"

"Ho, for the lighthouse!"

The choppers and bough-layers were at leisure again, and many of them joined the party.

Others said, "Oh, I am too tired to go so far!"

"Wait till to-morrow!"

But the first speakers were already hurrying across the pasture with Mr. Andrews, stopping here and there to pick strawberries or raspberries, and to look for some blueberries that had ripened before their fellows.

The walk was longer than they expected, and the way through the tangled underbrush of the woods was no easy one; but they at length came out into the pasture-land at the northern end of the island, and from there the path was smoother.

The light-keeper gave them a gruff but hearty welcome, and his wife invited as many to come into her nest of a house as the little room would hold.

The two boys belonging to the family were shy but radiant at the prospect of something to break the monotony of their island life.

"I suppose you want to go up and see the lantern, boys," said Jacob Kramer, the light-keeper.--"Here you, John and Jerry, go up with 'em, and tell 'em all about how it works."

John made no reply save to run up the steps leading to the lighthouse, and Jerry, with the crowd of other boys, followed, or as many as could enter at once.

After the lantern had been examined, John led the way down the side of the cliff where they could see the surf-bell rung by the waves.

"That sounds like somebody's funeral!" exclaimed Joe Chester, shrugging his shoulders.

"Doesn't it keep you awake at night?" asked Ned Gould.

John shook his head.

"Nothin' keeps me awake, only the storms when the big waves strike 'way up against the house and spatter the top windows."

"Do you have such storms as that, really?" asked Dave.

John nodded, and added with frankness,--

"When them come Jerry and I get scared, and crawl down to father's room."

"Don't you get lonesome here?" asked Joe, glancing around at the rocks and water forming the landscape.

"Not very. We don't get lonesome at all in the summer."

"What do you do for fun?"

"Oh, we build towers on the cliff. We've got a big one now. Come over and see it;" and both boys scampered off over the rough rocks with their bare feet, leaving the others to pick their way more carefully.

The tower was as high as Jerry's head, and large enough for four boys to stand upon comfortably. In the centre was a fir-tree from which the boys had trimmed every branch, until it was like a flag-staff.

"Some time we are going to have a flag of our own to fly atop there," said Jerry with pride.

"I've got a good-sized flag over in camp that you may have; it will do till you can get a bigger," said Walter Martin.

"What else do you do besides build stone things?" asked Dave curiously.

"Oh, lots of things."

"You fish off the rocks, I suppose."

"Yes, plenty of fish round here. We go off in the boat with father, too, to tend the lobster-pots."

"Lobster-pots! what are they?" asked Joe.

"What you catch lobsters in. Didn't you ever see a lobster-pot? There's some there on the grass."

"What! these cages? How do you catch them with these?"

The boys gathered around the "cages" and examined them.

"See, this hole grows small at the back of it, and the lobster is so anxious to get the bait inside that he squeezes through; but after he is in he doesn't know how to double his claws back and get out, so he just don't; he stays."

"And you catch him?"

"He catches himself," laughed John.

"All we do is to set the pot,--that is, we bait it,--and then we anchor it off somewhere, and after a while we go back for it and get the lobsters."

"How do you get them out?"

"See these little doors up above? We open them, and reach in there."

"Don't they bite?" asked Dan.

"If you don't know where to catch 'em they nip, I tell you."

"Of course you swim like fish, both of you," said Joe, who was quite a famous swimmer himself.

"Can't swim."

"Can't swim? What fellows you are! Why don't you learn? What if you should tumble overboard? what would you do then?"

"Go to the bottom," answered John with a broad smile, as if that were a funny thing to do.

The boys exclaimed over this lack of knowledge, and Joe finally said, "See here, you two fellows; get your father to let you come over to our camp every day, and before our camp-life is over we will teach you so you can swim like fish."

This was a delightful proposal to the boys, not only because they wanted to swim, but because it would take them among other boys.

As soon as the party returned to the lighthouse, John and Jerry whispered the invitation to their father, and asked if they might accept.

He consented willingly.

"May we learn to swim?"

"Well, yes, I suppose so. I want ye to learn. I suppose it's time you did; and there ain't no chance at this end o' the island."

"There is a good beach where we are camping, and we shall fasten a rope across to show the boys how far they can go safely."

During the boys' absence Mr. Andrews had been negotiating with the light-keeper for all the milk he could spare, and also for a supply of lobsters; and it was now arranged that John and Jerry were to bring milk every morning to camp, and remain as long as they liked during the day.

"Come, boys; it will be nearly dark before we get back!" said Mr. Andrews, bidding the keeper's family good-bye.

"And we shall lose our supper.--Good-bye, John and Jerry. Come over early." As if there were any need to tell the eager boys that.

They kept near the shore on the way back; and though it was a rocky road to travel, they saved a half-mile thereby, and arrived with very keen appetites just as their comrades had finished supper.

"I'm so hungry I could eat a whale, Joe," exclaimed Dave.

"A whale! why, I could eat a brick house," was the quick response.

"Jonas, did you save us anything?" asked a chorus of voices.

Jonas waved a frying-pan for answer, and presently set before them fried fish, crisp and brown, bread hot from the oven, and warm gingerbread, all of which won the unbounded approbation of the famished boys.

After supper the various events of the day were recounted, and all united in declaring that it had been the jolliest twelve hours they had ever known--a remark that Mr. Bernard had heard every summer on the first day in camp.

"Now, boys," said Mr. Bernard, "you are tired and will want to retire early. Come into my tent, and we will have prayers together."

This tent was divided unequally into two parts; the larger devoted to general assemblages--for morning and evening devotions, and for a resort in wet weather; for sleeping-tents were crowded with beds and baggage.

Besides the large apartment in Mr. Bernard's tent, there was one smaller--a tiny affair, where he slept and wrote or read.

The boys gathered now in the large tent, and sat down on the ground while Mr. Bernard read the Bible to them and explained the portion selected in a brief and interesting way that held the attention of the listeners. After the reading he offered a prayer, asking a blessing upon them all, and praying that none but good influences might prevail with any of them.

Then the "good-nights" were exchanged, many of the boys crowding around the teacher to thank him for the pleasure they were having; and as they scattered to their tents, many boyish words of hearty admiration were spoken of the teacher who had planned this vacation treat for them.

"I tell you, Dave, there ain't many teachers like him!" exclaimed Joe Chester, as he and his friend crept under their blankets on their mattress of fir-boughs.

"No, _sir_, not many."