Chums of the Camp Fire

Chums of the Camp Fire, by
Lawrence J. Leslie

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Title: Chums of the Camp Fire
Author: Lawrence J. Leslie
Release Date: June 23, 2007 [EBook #21908]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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THE CAMP FIRE ***

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[Illustration: Max declared there was now no reason why they should
not capture the monkey]
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CHUMS OF THE CAMP FIRE
BY
LAWRENCE J. LESLIE
MADE IN U. S. A.
M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY
CHICAGO :: NEW YORK
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COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY
THE NEW YORK BOOK COMPANY
CHUMS OF THE CAMPFIRE
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CONTENTS
I THE FROG HUNTERS 15 II STEVE PLAYS HERO 25 III WHEN
DREAMS CAME TRUE 36 IV A PROFITABLE BACK YARD 47 V
ON THE WAY TO THE WOODS 58 VI THE TERRIBLE ROAR 69
VII THE QUEER ACTIONS OF STEVE 80 VIII THE MYSTERIOUS
HAM THROWER 91 IX "MILLIONS FOR DEFENSE!" 102 X THE
WILD ANIMAL TRAP 113 XI TOO TRICKY FOR TOBY 124 XII A
STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE 135 XIII THE SECRET OUT 146
XIV A PLOT AGAINST THE MISSING LINK 157 XV THE
BATTLE OF WITS 168 XVI THE LAST CAMP
FIRE--CONCLUSION 179
[Transcriber's Note: Table of Contents was not present in original
edition.]
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CHAPTER I
THE FROG HUNTERS
"How many greenback saddles does that last bullfrog Max shot make,
Toby!"
"T-t-thirteen, all t-t-told, Steve."
"Ginger! that's going some for so early in the spring season, isn't it? I'd
like to get about twenty before we quit, which would make just five for
each of us, Max, Bandy-legs, you and myself. And seems like we ought
to knock over seven more this Saturday afternoon."
"Say, if only we were up in that old Dismal Swamp where I got lost last
year, I bet you we could fill a bushel basket with big bullfrog saddles,"
remarked the third boy, whose lower limbs were a little inclined to
grow in the shape of bows and who had on that account always gone by
the significant name of "Bandy-legs" Griffin among his comrades.
"Well, the less you have to say about that time the better," remarked the
fourth of the squad, a bright-faced young chap who was looked upon as
a born leader, no matter whether on the field of sport as known to the
boys of Carson, or in camp, and whose name was Max Hastings;
"because you gave us a pretty bad scare the time we had to rush up
there and hunt that swamp through to find you. Back up, Steve; easy
now, I tell you!"
"Do you see the fourteenth victim crouching in the shallow water, or
squatting up on the bank?" whispered the boy who just then held the
little Flobert rifle, with which the so-called "game" was being bagged.
"Yes, and he must be the grand-daddy of the whole shooting match,
he's so enormously big. Look at that log lying on the shore, just where
the ice pushed it last winter. Don't you see a bunch of grass at the
further end? Well, he's alongside that, and I reckon he hears us talking,
for he looks wise and ready to plop into the water. Steady now,
Touch-and-go Steve; make sure before you shoot."

Steve Dowdy, though warm-hearted, and a mighty good comrade, was
inclined to be rather excitable at times, and on this account he had been
dubbed "Touch-and-go Steve," a name that seemed peculiarly
appropriate.
"I see the old rascal, all right," he murmured, as he slowly began to
raise the little rifle to his shoulder, and take aim; "and let me tell you
he's my meat. I've got a dead bead on him right now. Listen, fellows!"
The sharp, spiteful snap of the Flobert rifle followed. Then Bandy-legs
gave a victorious crow, just as though he might have been a barnyard
rooster returning to his own dung-heap after whipping the next-door
neighbor's game fowl.
"That settled his hash for him, all right, and a fine shot for you, Steve.
Now hand me the gun, for it's my turn next; and go and retrieve your
game."
"You'll have to pick your way around there carefully, Steve," Max went
on to caution, as he observed how the pond shore took several twists in
that particular place, making it difficult to reach the spot where the
monster greenback lay extended at full length, a prize worth