Part 19 (2/2)
That night the talk was all about past experiences that had come the way of the four Outdoor Chums. One story brought up another, and through it all Luther Snow sat there, listening as though spellbound. If he had been somewhat of a traveler and a hunter, as an old man; surely these boys deserved more or less credit for what they had been through, considering their years.
Frank felt drawn toward the man in spite of himself. There were times when he believed that if this mystery that hung over Luther Snow could only be lifted he might look on him with friendly eyes.
But he never wavered in the least with regard to that resolution he had taken, which was to the effect that when they reached the city on the bluff, Memphis, he would play a little lone hand he was arranging, and see to it that Luther was left behind; with plenty of money in his pocket, placed there secretly, to cover all further expenses down to the city he wished to reach, according to his story-New Orleans.
CHAPTER XX-THE FLOATING TREE
”How did they turn out, Will?”
It was Jerry who asked this question. They had all left the cabin, and given it over to the photographer for an hour, so that he could make use of it for a dark room, in which to develop his films. And the opening of the door, with his appearance on deck, was a sign that his operations had been brought to a conclusion.
”Simply immense!” exclaimed the other, in a triumphant tone. ”Jerry, when it comes to snapping things that are in perpetual motion, you certainly take the cake.”
”You mean I got a little more than the stub tail of the cat?” inquired Jerry.
”You got the whole business down to a dot!” cried Will. ”It's going to be the greatest picture ever; and will give our collection some cla.s.s, let me tell you. The only thing that makes me feel bad is that I didn't have the honor of taking it. Everybody'll say Jerry ought to have been elected official photographer of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club, instead of me.”
”Oh! rats!” scoffed Jerry; ”when we've got fifty splendid pictures that you snapped under the funniest conditions ever, some of them worth being entered for a prize. But I'm coming in, and take a squint at those negatives, if you'll let me, Will.”
”Sure; they've been in the hypo bath, and are fixed, all right. I've got 'em dripping in the wash right now. Come along, everybody, and see a panorama. The whole thing, from the start, up to where our unwelcome visitor took a notion to go overboard. It's like a story, continued from one number to the next. When you've looked at all the pictures you've got it just as if you'd read it between covers.”
”All but me going over backward?” laughed Bluff.
”Wait and see,” Will replied, as he led the way into the cabin; ”I think Jerry was just going to snap you at the time the cat dropped; for you're in the beginning just as big as life, with your hands thrown up, as you keel over backwards; and the cat sprawling on the deck, its back arched.
Oh! you can't squirm out of this game, Bluff! I tell you it's the finest thing that ever came down the pike.”
”We must open all the windows, and air the cabin before we think of turning in,” remarked practical Frank, snuffing the rank kerosene odor in the atmosphere, caused by Will's close confinement with his smoky dark-lantern.
All of them were delighted with the negatives that Will held up against a light, so that they could see. Being familiar with photographic work, they understood the lights and shadows; and could see that, considering the peculiar conditions under which Jerry had pressed the b.u.t.ton time and again, the remarkable series of thrilling pictures were strongly featured. And through them all, saving possibly the first, Will took the leading part; after the wildcat, of course, which occupied the centre of the stage.
Once more they sat outside talking, while the cabin aired.
”Seems to me we've been having a lot of rain lately, for the good old summer time,” Bluff remarked.
”I should say so,” Jerry went on. ”Why, we can see logs pa.s.sing us every five minutes that we look out, after we tie up. And I reckon some of the tributaries of the Mississippi must be at the flood stage. Wouldn't surprise me any to discover chicken coops floating past.”
”Don't I wish we could, with the chickens perched on the ridge-pole!”
chuckled Bluff. ”Chicken is one of my weak points. I feel lost when I don't get a feed of fowl once a week, anyway.”
”Frank, what was that you seemed to be staring at just when it got dusk?” Will asked. ”I saw you looking, and then go to the end of the boat with your hand over your eyes to see better.”
”Oh! that was a pa.s.sing boat,” Bluff spoke up; ”I noticed the light in the cabin myself, but was too busy to bother.”
”I've more than half an idea we've seen that boat before,” remarked Frank, quietly.
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