CHAPTER XX

BOB TAKEN ILL

Securing the boat, Jerry took a survey of the camp. Ned and Bob had lighted other lanterns and, by their gleams, it could be seen that nothing had been taken. The improvised burglar alarm had given timely notice, or the boys might have mourned the loss of the _Dartaway_, as well as other of their possessions.

“They seem to have gotten away,” remarked Jerry, coming back from where he had made the motor boat fast. “I wonder how they got here?”

“In a canoe,” answered Ned, pointing to the marks of where the keel of one had rested on the little beach of the lake. “But what was that tremendous racket?”

“A little invention of mine,” and Jerry explained it.

“I wonder who they were?” asked Bob.

“Some of the same negroes with whom the professor has gone off,” replied Jerry.

“Do you really think so?”

“I do. I believe it is all a part of a scheme to rob him and us. Those men wanted to get him out of the way so they could plunder our camp. I guess they thought we were boys who had never been out alone before.”

“They think differently now,” observed Bob. “I reckon my bullet went uncomfortably close to some of ’em.”

“We may have scared them off for the time being,” went on Jerry, “but we’ve got to be on the watch. Our camp represents a lot of wealth to those colored men, and they’ll stop at nothing, short of a gun, to get it. It’ll have to be watch and watch after this.”

“You’re right,” agreed Ned. “We should have done it at first. But it’s not too late, thanks to the fish-line burglar alarm.”

The boys arranged to spend the rest of the night taking turns at standing guard, but their precautions were needless, for they were not disturbed again. In the morning they made a more careful examination and, by the tracks in the mud, came to the conclusion that at least five men had endeavored to loot the camp.

“What about the professor?” asked Bob, when they had discussed the occurrences of the night.

“I’m worried about him,” admitted Jerry. “He’s such an innocent and trusting gentleman that he’d do anything those scoundrels asked him to. I suppose by this time they have him several miles away from here.”

“Do you think they’ll harm him?” asked Ned.

“Maybe not. They’ll certainly rob him, and they may turn him adrift in the everglades, and that’s the worst thing they could do. He’ll never be able to find his way out.”

“Is it as bad as that?” asked Ned.

“I don’t want to take too gloomy a view of it,” went on Jerry, “but you must admit it looks serious.”

“Still, the professor is a smart man. He’s used to going in dense woods after insects and finding his way out,” said Bob. “Look at the different places he has been with us--even in the buried city in Mexico--and he got out all right.”

“This is different,” Jerry stated. “The everglades are worse than any forest. If he gets off the firm ground he’ll sink down in the swamp and never be able to get out. Boys, I wish the professor was safely back with us. But there’s no help for it now, and all we can do is to wait. Perhaps I’m too nervous and he may turn up all right, but the attack on the camp looks bad.”

“Poor old professor!” murmured Ned. “I’d hate to have anything happen to him.”

“So would I,” put in Bob, “but I guess, as Jerry says, there’s nothing to be done but to wait.”

The day seemed very long, for they were watching for the return of the scientist. No one had the heart to do anything, and the boys sat listlessly about the camp, even Bob having a poor appetite for his meals.

Toward afternoon Ned proposed that they take their guns and a walk along the edge of the lake, not going far away from camp.

“We might see something to shoot at,” he said. “It will make the time pass quicker, and if there are any negroes hiding about they’ll hear the guns and know we’re on the watch.”

The plan was agreed to, and the boys tried several shots at loons and alligators. Jerry succeeded in wounding one of the big saurians, but the creature buried itself in the mud and the boys could not get it.

“We’ll take the boat to-morrow,” said Ned, “and have a try at some of these big lizards. If we could skin one or two we’d have some nice hides to show for our trip.”

“Excuse me from skinning alligators,” remarked Bob, making a wry face. “The weather is too hot.”

As they started back for camp Bob espied a bush laden with yellow fruit. He approached it on the run.

“Just what I’ve been wishing for!” he exclaimed, pulling off some and beginning to eat them.

“Hold on!” cried Jerry. “What are those things? They may be poison.”

“They’re mangoes,” answered Bob, eating his second one.

“Are you sure?” and Jerry looked doubtful.

“Of course,” answered the always-hungry youth. “I’ve read about them and I know.”

“Better leave ’em alone,” advised Jerry. “They may be the mango fruit, but I wouldn’t take any chances. Besides, if they are mangoes, this variety, from having grown in the everglades, may be poisonous.”

“They don’t taste so,” remarked Bob, continuing to eat the fruit, which smelled delicious and had a fine appearance. “Better have some, Ned.”

“No, thanks. Camp stuff is good enough for me when I’m not sure of what the other is.”

Bob continued to enjoy himself on the fruit, which certainly was tempting. He only laughed at the warnings of his companions, and filled his pockets with the yellow things, a number of which he took back to camp.

In accordance with the plan of the previous night, the boys maintained a watch. The fish-line alarm was set again, and with a lantern burning down near the boat, where it would disclose any persons who might try to sneak up and cut the mooring lines, Ned and Jerry prepared to turn in. It was Bob’s turn to stand first watch. The boys had not lost their uneasy feeling concerning the professor, and they hoped every moment to hear his cheery hail as he returned.

“Don’t you wish you’d brought some of the mangoes?” asked Bob of his chums, producing some of the yellow fruit as he prepared to begin his tour of duty. “This will keep me awake.”

“Call us at the slightest sign of danger,” cautioned Jerry, as he went inside the tent.

It seemed that he and Ned had been sleeping but a short time when they were suddenly aroused by Bob shaking them.

“What is it? The negroes again?” asked Jerry as he sat up and grabbed his gun.

“No,” replied Bob in a faint voice. “Oh, Jerry, I’m awful sick! I guess it was those mangoes. I can hardly stand! Can’t you do something for me?”