Roy Blakeleys Adventures in Camp | Page 6

of 'em.' 'Thou hast said
something,' I told him; 'go and get your old scow ready and I'm with
you.'"
Then he hit me a good rap on the shoulder and said, "So you see how it
was, kiddo? Instead of going home to hear how handsome I looked, I
just beat it up that creek and fished this suit of greasy rags out of one of
the lockers. There was a key in the padlock and I just took off my
uniform and stuffed it in the locker and beat it over to Little Landing in
Bridgeboro."
"You locked the padlock and took the key, didn't you?" I said.
"Righto," he said, "and I thought I'd be back that same night and down
to Dix again by morning. See? But instead of that, here I am and
blamed near a week gone by and Uncle Sam on the hunt for me. A nice
pickle I'm in. What do you say?"
"Gee, I wouldn't want to be you," I said; "anyway, I'm sorry for you.
But I don't see why you didn't go back like you said." Then he went

over to the railing and looked all around in a hurry.
"I guess they won't be back for an hour yet," I told him; "they went to
the movies."
So he came back and sat down beside me again and began talking very
excited, as if I was kind of a friend of his, the way he talked. You know
what I mean. And, cracky, any fellow would be glad to be a friend of
his, that's sure, even if he was kind of reckless and--you know.
He said, "I had so many adventures, old top, that I couldn't tell 'em to
you. Jakey and I have Robinson Crusoe tearing his hair from jealousy.
Kiddo, this last week has been a whole sea story; in itself-- just one
hair's-breadth escape after another. Ever read _Treasure Island?_"
"Did I!" I said.
Then he said, "Well Treasure Island is like a church social compared to
what I've been through. Some day I'm going to tell you about it."
I said, "I wish you'd tell me now."
"Some night around the camp-fire I'll tell you," he said. "We were
fishing off Sea Gate and the fish just stood on line waiting for a chance
to bite. We sold three boatfuls in the one day and whacked up about
seventy dollars--what do you think of that? Then we chugged around
into Coney for gas and on the way back we got mussed up with the tide
and were carried out to sea--banged around for three days, bailing and
trying to fry fish on the muffler. On the fourth day we were picked up
by a fishing schooner about fifty miles off Rockaway and towed in. I
said to Jakey, I'm Mike Corby, remember that, and if you give your
right name I'll kill you--you've got to protect me,' I said, 'because I'm in
bad.' You see how it was, kiddo? I was three days overdue at camp and
didn't even have my uniform. I was so tired bailing and standing
lookout that when they set us down on the wharf at Rockaway, I could
have slept standing on my head. And I've gone without sleep fifty hours
at a stretch on the West Front in France--would you believe it?"

"Sure, I believe it," I told him.
"I'll tell you the whole business some day when you and I are on the
hike."
I said, "Cracky, you can bet I'd like to go on a hike with you."
"That's what we will," he said, "and we'll swap adventures."
I told him I didn't have any good ones like he had to swap, but anyway,
I was glad he got home all right.
"All right!" he said, "you mean all wrong. Maybe you saw the accounts
in the papers of the two fishermen who were picked up after a
harrowing experience--Mike Corby and Dan McCann. That was us. I
left Jakey down at Rockaway to wait for his engine to be fixed and beat
it out to Jersey. No house-boat! Was I up in the air? Didn't even dare to
go up to the house and ask about it. That rotten little newspaper in
Bridgeboro had a big headliner about me disappearing--'_never seen
after leaving Camp Dix; whereabouts a mystery_'--that's what it said,
'son of Professor Donnelle.' What'd you think of that?"
I told him I was mighty sorry for him, and I was, too.
Then he said how he went to New York in those old rags, and tried not
to see anybody he knew and even he hid his face when he saw Mr.
Cooper on the train. And then he telephoned out to Bridgeboro and