Under Canvas: or, The Hunt for the Cartaret Ghost. Douglas Alan Captain

Under Canvas: or, The Hunt for the Cartaret Ghost - Douglas Alan Captain


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both of the boys pulled and sawed and jerked until the mare was made to come to a full stop. This occurred fully a mile away from the wayside grocery, which was long ago lost to sight behind several bends in the road.

      "Jump out and hold her, some of you other fellows!" gasped Toby, short of breath after his violent exertions.

      Chatz, George and Ted all hastened to obey. They had been tumbled around in the bed of the big wagon at such a lively rate that they were only too glad of the chance to gain their feet. Held by a stout boy on either side the mare did not offer to run further, though still acting very strangely.

      Elmer had once spent some time up on an uncle's ranch in Northwest Canada; and knew a heap about horses. He had sometimes seen animals act this way, and had before then guessed what might be the matter.

      "Hold her steady, everybody, and let me look around a little," was what he called, as he jumped down, and began patting the sweaty back of the trembling animal.

      A minute later and they heard him give an angry exclamation.

      "I thought as much," Elmer was saying, as he held up his hand; "look what was fixed under her tail."

      "Say, that seems like a bunch of those nasty little sand spurs that sting and poison like all get-out!" exclaimed George, and it might have been noticed that this time he showed no signs of his customary doubting spirit.

      "Just what they are," Elmer went on to say, indignation in his whole manner.

      "But how – when – where?" began Ted, when Chatz burst out with:

      "He did it, Elmer, that skunk of a McDowd. Must have thought it'd be a fine way to pay back what he believed he owed the Hickory Ridge boys. The low-down coward, to hurt a hoss that way."

      "But why, he might have made some of us get thrown out, and hurt right bad in the bargain!" exclaimed George, angrily.

      "Much he'd have cared for that," Toby panted; "and didn't I just think I heard a silly laugh at the time Nancy started to rear up, and prance like a crazy thing? That must a been Angus. And like as not he's doubled up back there right now laughing over seeing how we got thrown around in the wagon because of his sand spur trick. For five cents I'd turn around, and go back to give him the licking he needs."

      "Don't bother thinking about that," Elmer told him. "It was a mean trick, and I've known men to get a halter out on the plains for playing that same game. But we got out of the hole without any damage, only to our feelings; so let's forget it."

      The others were usually swayed more or less by what Elmer thought or did. He was a natural leader, and it had become second nature for the other scouts to look to him for advice, whenever an emergency arose.

      "Guess the poor frightened thing'll stand now, fellows, without holding her any more," Toby suggested; "so climb back on your seat; and be more careful next time how you let go your hold. It's a wonder none of you got dumped out when you tilted over backward."

      Just as he said, the animal seemed to have partly recovered from her mad fright occasioned by the pain the little sharp-pointed burrs inflicted. Though still trembling, and acting in a skittish manner, she gave signs of being docile enough to be driven.

      The three scouts hastened to climb in at the back of the wagon, and after securing the gunny sacks, as well as the large package belonging to Toby, they once more found seats for themselves. George and Chatz, however, it might be noticed, made sure to get a firm grip somewhere on the side of the wagon; while Ted, being in the middle, threw an arm around each of his chums, as though he depended on them to sustain him, should another runaway occur.

      They were soon going along at a fair clip, though Toby had to "lean" pretty heavily on the lines in order to hold the big bay mare in, for he did not think it advisable to let her have her head again. The next time she made such a mad spurt as that they might not find it so easy to get her to stop.

      "What d'ye reckon possessed that coward to play such a mean trick on us?" Toby wanted to know.

      "Oh! he had it in him, that's all, and when the chance came around he just couldn't help himself," Elmer told him, for the Assistant Scout Master was somewhat of a philosophical boy, and able to figure out things that might puzzle some of his tent mates.

      "Next time I see that Angus he'll hear my opinion of a sneak who could play a dirty trick like that!" continued the driver, vigorously.

      "Thame here!" chirped Ted. "And if he giveth me any thath I'll pull hith red noth for him, thee if I don't."

      "All I can say is, keep your eye out for sledge hammer punches if ever you go to pulling his nose," warned George; "because he's a born scrapper, and would as soon fight as eat."

      "Let's forget about that little affair," suggested Elmer; "no use crying over spilt milk, and what's done can't be undone. Toby, suppose you tell us a little more about this nut grove up at the old Cartaret place; because if I remember rightly you said you'd been asking everybody all about the estate."

      "Why, old Judge Cartaret, the rich man who built up the place, meaning to live there with his young and handsome wife, went crazy, they say, after he'd found her dead in her room. The mystery never was cleared up. To this day some people say she was murdered by a man she once promised to marry before the millionaire judge came along; another lot seem to believe she committed suicide because the judge was so cruel, and wouldn't let her leave the place; and one man told me he always had believed ever since he was a boy that the judge struck her down in a fit of passion. But of course those things don't cut any figure with us."

      "On the contrary," interrupted Chatz, who had been listening to all these horrors with wide-open eyes, and a look of intense interest on his dark face, "they strike me as being decidedly interesting, suh. If I had a chance I'd like to investigate this queer thing, and perhaps learn what did happen in that big house ever so many years ago."

      "But how about the nut treeth, Toby, did the judge plant the thame when he wath trying to make a thut-in paradith for that pretty bride of hith?"

      "That's just what he did, boys, so they told me," Toby continued, readily consenting to be squeezed for information; "he planted a whole lot of chestnuts, walnuts and shell-bark hickories that have been growing for several dozen years. They're busting big trees, and just breaking down with the finest crop ever known, and with never a single fellow brave enough up to this time to go there and gather the harvest. Why, when I heard what that man had to say about it, I was fairly wild to be off. And believe me, boys, we'll make the eyes of the other fellows stick out of their heads like fun when they see what an enormous supply of nuts we've gathered for next winter around the fire. Yum! yum! I always did say that a plate of red-cheeked apples, a dish of fresh popped corn, and a pocketful of nuts beats all creation on a stormy night, winter times."

      "Believe it when I see it!" muttered skeptical George, who undoubtedly thought this wonderful harvest was too good to turn out to be true; after they had arrived on the ground, very probably it would only be to find that the trees had been stripped of their burden of nuts by some hardy souls who did not place much credence in the stories of the ghost said to haunt the place; something was always on the eve of turning up to keep George from reaping success, it seemed.

      "No use talking," observed the disgusted Toby, "George never will be convinced till he begins to load up the wagon with bags running over with nuts. And even then he'll expect some white-sheeted ghost to step up, and demand that we throw every one of the same back again where we found them. You couldn't convince him of a single thing till he's had a chance to prove it over and over again."

      "Learned that in school when I was doin' problems," George declared with one of his most exasperating grins; "which was why I always passed with such a high percentage in arithmetic and algebra. They said I'd make a fine carpenter, because I'd always measure my boards again and again before I cut 'em, and that way there never'd be any mistakes about my sawing."

      "And a great carpenter you'd make, George," chuckled Toby; "why, you'd take everlasting and a day just to get your foundation started. The folks would all die off waiting for you to finish your job. A carpenter – whew! excuse me if you please from ever employing a mechanic who spends all his time figgering out how things could


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