Bart Keene's Hunting Days: or, The Darewell Chums in a Winter Camp. Chapman Allen
Long. “The janitor, and two assistants whom he hired, cleaned out the school late Friday afternoon. I know, for I remained here to go over some of my class records. It was late when I left, and the janitor had finished before I was ready to go. I know this because Riggs asked me to be sure and close the front door and put the spring lock on when I came out. I was the last person to leave the school Friday night, and I locked the door. Riggs had gone. The reason why he did his cleaning work Friday night, and not Saturday, as is usual, was because he wanted to go away over Sunday. He did go, I understand, so you see you boys were the only ones in the school.”
“And did you lock the front door after you?” asked Bart with a sudden suspicion in his mind, as he thought of the mysterious man.
“I did, certainly. Why do you ask?”
“Oh – nothing – only I thought – I – ” Again Bart was about to speak of the midnight visitor to the school, and again he refrained.
“By the way, how did you boys get in the school?” asked Professor Long, suddenly.
“I – er – we – that is – ”
“Never mind,” hastily interrupted the instructor, “I should not have asked that. I have no wish to pry further into this matter than is necessary. Believe me, I appreciate your motive in making a clean breast of it. I do not care to know all the details. Boys will be boys, I suppose. Only get me back the diamond bracelet and the turtle. I will see Mr. McCloud at once, and I’m sure he will let you make a search at Fenn’s house.”
Bart’s opportunity had passed. If he only had mentioned the fact that he and his chums found the front door open, and had seen a mysterious man enter the school, things might have turned out differently, and much trouble have been averted. But now it was too late. Mr. Long hurried to the office of the principal, and returned shortly with permission for the four chums to go and make a search.
“But why didn’t you tell him about the man we saw?” asked Ned, as they were on their way to Fenn’s house.
“Because,” answered Bart.
“That’s a regular girl’s reason,” objected Frank.
“Well,” answered Bart desperately, somewhat weary and nervous over the ordeal through which he had gone, “the chief reason was that if I told that, I’d have to tell why we didn’t notify the police. That’s where we made a mistake. If that fellow was a thief, and took the bracelet, we should have called the police.”
“We didn’t know he was a thief – we don’t know it yet,” declared Frank.
“No, but when we saw a stranger sneaking into the school, we should have had gumption enough to notify the authorities,” insisted Bart. “That’s where we were slow. I didn’t want to make it any worse. If we find the bracelet, all right; we won’t have to tell how silly we were.”
“And if we don’t find it – which is very likely to be the case – what then?” asked Fenn.
“Well, we didn’t take it, that’s certain,” decided Frank. “Neither by accident nor intentionally – did we take that bracelet.”
“Then the man we saw, did,” said Ned.
“Yes, and he’s far enough off by now,” observed Frank. “Fellows, I’ll bet he was the thief!”
“How could he be?” asked Bart. “He didn’t know the bracelet was in the cabinet. Besides, no ordinary person would think of looking among a lot of reptiles for anything valuable.”
“Well, if we don’t find it I think we’d better tell about the man,” was Fenn’s opinion.
“It will be too late then,” insisted Bart.
“Too late? Why?” Frank wanted to know.
“Because if we come back without the missing turtle and bracelet, and tell about having seen a mysterious man enter the school just before we did, on Friday night, every one will say we made up the story to shield ourselves. No, the best way, if we can’t find that diamond ornament, is to keep mum about the man.”
“And let them accuse us?” cried Frank, indignantly.
“For a while – yes,” replied Bart. “It won’t be the first time, and probably not the last. But I don’t mean by that for us to sit still under the accusation.”
“What do you mean?” asked Fenn.
“I mean to find the missing bracelet, Stumpy!” was the emphatic answer. “That’s what we’ve got to do! It’s up to us! We didn’t take it, but perhaps that man did. If so we’ve got to find him as well as the bracelet. Come on, now, not so much talking. Let’s get busy, but, remember, if we don’t find the bracelet now, we must keep mum about the man, if we don’t want to be laughed at, as well as accused.”
There was a momentary discussion, but Bart’s chums agreed with him, as they usually did. They hastened on to Fenn’s house, and at once began a frantic search about the yard and in the shack where the lad kept his reptiles.
But there was no sign of the bracelet. Fenn lifted out every one of his turtles, toads and kindred specimens, and the place was gone over carefully. So was the route the boys had taken to and from the school. But it was a fruitless search.
“Fellows, let’s look for the mud turtle, anyhow,” suggested Ned. “Maybe we can find that for Professor Long, if we can’t get the bracelet.”
They looked in every likely and unlikely place for the missing turtle, but it had vanished as completely as had the bracelet. They were loath to give up the hunt, but concluded that there was nothing else to do. As they were about to return to the school much cast down and dispirited, to report no progress, Fenn exclaimed:
“Fellows, I have just thought of something.”
“Out with it,” ordered Bart.
“I believe the mud turtle has the bracelet!” exclaimed the stout youth.
“The mud turtle? Are you crazy?” demanded Ned.
“No, I’m not,” answered Fenn, with a show of indignation. “Listen! The missing mud turtle was a large one, and a species that has a very long neck. Now it would be the easiest thing in the world for the turtle to get the diamond bracelet over his neck, and walk off with it. One of mine once got his neck in an iron ring, and I didn’t know it for quite a while, as the folds of skin on the reptile’s neck hid the iron. I’ll wager that’s what’s happened in this case. We’ll find that the turtle is wearing Mrs. Long’s diamond bracelet on its neck!”
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Bart.
“Well, there might be something in it,” admitted Ned. “Let’s have another look for that turtle, fellows.”
“We’ll look for the turtle all right,” agreed Bart, “but as for expecting to find Mrs. Long’s diamond bracelet on its neck – why you fellows are crazy to think of such a thing. You might as well expect to find hickory nuts growing on a peach tree. You’re loony! Off your trolley! You’ve got bats in your belfry, as the poet says,” and, when Frank and Ned thought it over, they were inclined to agree with their chum.
CHAPTER IV
IN THE SHOOTING GALLERY
Fenn’s suggestion gave a new impetus to the hunt, which was renewed with energy. Mrs. Masterson, who heard from the boys what had taken place, joined them in searching through the long grass of the back yard for the turtle. But it was not to be found.
“It’s very likely a good distance from here,” said Fenn, who was well versed in the habits of the reptiles. “They go slow, but they keep it up, and this one has had two days’ start. We’ll have to hunt farther off than this for him.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do!” declared Frank. “We’ll organize ourselves into a hunting party for a diamond-studded turtle,” and he laughed.
“It’s no laughing matter, though,” declared Bart. “If we go back