Part 1 (2/2)

”Tell us about it. If we're going to make a cruise in the houseboat of a millionaire, we ought to know,” remarked Bluff.

”He says,” Will went on, ”he's mighty particular about whom he allows aboard his boat, and wants to impress upon us all that during the cruise we must keep off all undesirable characters.”

”Sure thing,” remarked Bluff, with a wise nod. ”I've always heard that the Mississippi is a tramp's paradise, and that they just swarm down there. It's only right that a rich man would want us to keep such characters off his fine houseboat.”

”Hold on there,” broke in Will, ”I haven't said it was such a palace, have I, Frank? Here Bluff keeps on getting more and more extravagant with his adjectives every time he mentions the boat.”

”Oh! well,” the other ventured, ”it stands to reason that a rich old chap who spends lots of his time on board a pet boat would have things just scrumptious. Me for the first choice of bunks aboard! Wonder if he has silk eiderdown quilts for covers. Yum! yum! we're just the luckiest lot of freshmen that ever squeezed through their first year at college; and, Will, I feel like giving you a bear's hug for bringing us this great news.”

”Please don't!” cried Will, half alarmed, for Bluff was a bit rough in his way; ”because I'm carrying a bunch of lantern slides in my pocket; and I'd hate to have them broken;” but the observing Frank detected what seemed to be a gleam of suppressed amus.e.m.e.nt on Will's face, that gave him an inkling as to the true state of affairs.

Will had always been the official photographer of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club, and was something of an expert at snapping pictures to commemorate stirring and unusual events in the outdoor experiences of the chums.

”Was that all he said about not letting strangers aboard unless they brought letters of introduction?” asked Jerry.

”He warned us to be particularly careful not to harbor a certain party named Marcus Stackpole, who seems to be some sort of particular enemy of my uncle, though just why he would want to get aboard the houseboat I can't imagine.”

”Say, that's queer, now,” remarked Bluff.

”Guess he's had some reason for believing this Stackpole to be a thief, and he thinks he's run away with some of the things your uncle carries aboard,” Jerry suggested.

Will simply elevated his eyebrows as he replied, evasively:

”I don't know, and that's all I can say, fellows; but suppose we go over to my rooms, where we can read the letter again, and take a look at the course of the Mississippi River from St. Paul to New Orleans.”

It happened that Will and Frank had rooms at some little distance from the college buildings, making quite a walk along the road that ran beside the little river. And as they are trudging along, indulging in considerable excited talk, we can devote a few paragraphs to some of the pleasant things that in times past were experienced by these four comrades.

The organization of the club, and what happened to the boys shortly afterward, has been detailed, at length, in the first book of this series, called: ”The Outdoor Chums; Or, The First Tour of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club.” In the second story are given some of the wonderful happenings that befell them while camping on an island in Camelot Lake, which had, up to that time, been shunned by most people, because of the fierce bobcats that were said to hold possession there. These exciting events you will find narrated in ”The Outdoor Chums on the Lake; Or, Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island.”

During the Easter holidays another campaign was undertaken in search of excitement and pictures, as well as camping experiences. It had been reported that a ghost roamed over a certain section of the country some miles away from the town of Centerville; and the four boys determined to find out the truth of this rumor. As to what befell them, the reader will find the full details in the third volume, called ”The Outdoor Chums in the Forest; Or, Laying the Ghost of Oak Ridge.”

When Christmas came, the chums received permission to pay a visit to the Sunny South. And what strange things happened to them on a Florida river, as well as upon the great Mexican gulf, have been told in the fourth book, under the t.i.tle of ”The Outdoor Chums on the Gulf; Or, Rescuing the Lost Balloonists.”

Then came a delightful visit to the Far West, where they saw what life on a cattle ranch was like, and had some thrilling times among the wild animals that Will was always anxious to take pictures of, at no matter what risk to himself. You can find all these narrated at length in the fifth book, just preceding this, and bearing the t.i.tle of ”The Outdoor Chums After Big Game; Or, Perilous Adventures in the Wilderness.”

”There's that fancy dresser, Oswald Fredericks, and some of his chums, coming this way, Frank!” remarked Bluff, as the four boys were walking along the road.

Frank frowned. If there was one fellow in all the hundreds attending college with whom he had never been able to get on, it had been the rich man's son, Oswald Fredericks. They had never actually come to blows, but for some reason the other had shown jealousy toward Frank, and seldom let an opportunity pa.s.s for sneering at him, or doing some small thing to indicate what his feelings toward Frank were.

”And we're bound to meet the bunch just in that narrow part of the road, too, where the river runs close beside it,” remarked Will, in disgust.

”Well,” spoke up fiery Bluff, ”you don't expect that we're going to stand here, and wait for the procession to pa.s.s by; do you? I guess four of us ought to be a match for as many of the Fredericks crowd, if they try to muss us up.”

”Oh! I don't think Fredericks would try anything like that,” Frank remarked.

”You never know what such a fellow might do,” declared Jerry. ”Once I used to like him; but he got going with a fast set, and I had to cut him dead. He isn't altogether bad, but apt to feel himself superior because his dad's a millionaire.”

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