CHAPTER XXIX
BART'S BEST SHOT
Bart turned to Fenn. He was just about to whisper to his chum to take upthe pursuit of the mysterious man, leaving him to attempt a difficultshot to save the life of the lineman, but at that instant there was aswaying in the crowd, and a boy stumbled up against Fenn's sore arm. Theinjured lad uttered a cry of pain. His face turned white, and he wasstruggling to stay on his feet.
"Catch him! He's going to faint!" cried some one, and faint poor Fenndid, being caught in the arms of two men.
Bart felt his brain reeling, but, by a strong effort he held himselftogether.
There was now no chance of continuing the pursuit of the mysterious man.Fenn was being carried to a place where he could be cared for. It wasimpossible to communicate with Ned and Frank, who were on the other sideof the street, and Bart could not go away and leave the man on the poleto die. There was no help for it. He must stay and try, by a mostdifficult shot, to sever the dangerous wire.
"Will you do it? Can you do it?" asked the lineman who had proposed theextreme measure to the lad. "It's the only chance. Can you cut thatwire?"
"I think so," was the quiet answer. No one in that crowd knew under whata strain Bart Keene was at that moment. No one associated the nowunconscious Fenn with him, and no one dreamed that Bart was anxious tocontinue after a man who he believed to be a criminal, and who was fastmaking his escape.
"Can you hold on a minute longer, George?" called a workman on theground, up to the lineman on the pole.
"Yes," came back the faint answer, "but it's hard work. Can't you shutoff the current? If I make a move I'm a goner. Can't you turn off thecurrent?"
"We're going to try to cut the wire," went on the man who had thought ofthe plan. "We can't get the current shut off right away. Listencarefully, George. Hold as still as you can. There's a lad here with arifle. He's a good shot, he says, and he's going to fire at the livewire until he cuts it. It's going to be a close shave for you, as thewire is pretty near to your head. Have you nerve enough to stand it?"
"I--I guess so," came the hesitating answer. "Go ahead!"
The crowd below was scarcely breathing. The man on the pole could beseen straining himself to maintain his perilous position. He lookeddown. Death was below him, and on every side, and none dare climb thepole to help him. The rifle seemed the only chance, unless some onecould go five miles to the power house, and have the current turned off,or unless the electrician returned, and this would take so long that theman's hold would loosen, and he would either fall, or be shocked todeath. It all depended on Bart, and the lad knew that he must now shoottrue, if he never shot straight again. It was to be his best shot--awell-nigh tragic shot.
"Clear a space for the lad!" ordered the lineman, as he and his fellowsbegan making a circle about Bart. "Give him room. Have you got plenty ofcartridges, young man?"
Bart nodded. He felt that he could not speak, and he knew that thechamber of his rifle was filled. Yet he hoped to do the trick with onlyone bullet.
The shot was a hard one. He must cut a wire within four inches of theshoulder of the man whose life he was trying to save, and he had to fireupward, and at a slightly swaying target--a target small enough at best,hardly more than half an inch wide. Yet Bart did not hesitate.
He took his position under the wires, and close to the pole. The crowdwas looking eagerly on, and the man on the pole was like a statue. Wellhe knew how much depended on his remaining motionless.
Bart raised his rifle. A mist seemed to come before his eyes, but with agritting of his teeth he got more control of himself, and then he sawclear. He took careful aim, and then he saw that he could shoot to moreadvantage from the other side of the pole. He would have to fire closerto the man, but the bullet would take an outward slant in cutting thewire, and there was less danger of it glancing off and wounding thelineman.
The lad changed his position, and once more took careful aim. He took along breath, and his finger began to tighten on the trigger. At thatinstant there came a puff of wind, and the wire at which he was aimingswayed toward the unfortunate man. There was a cry of horror, andseveral persons in the crowd started toward Bart, as if to stop thefiring of the gun. But the lad was on the alert, and waited until thewire was still again.
One, two, three seconds passed. Would he never fire? Suddenly thosewatching him saw his figure stiffen. He braced the rifle more firmlyagainst his shoulder. There was a further tightening of the tension ofhis trigger finger, and a report that seemed to the nervous crowd to beas loud as a cannon vibrated on the wintry air.
An instant later there came tumbling from aloft a long wire, thatwrithed about like some snake, spitting blue flames and sparks. Itwiggled about on the ground as a thing alive.
"Keep back! Keep back from that wire!" shouted a lineman. "Good shot, mylad! Great! You cut the wire with one bullet!"
Bart lowered his gun. Once more the mist seemed to come before his eyes,but it did not matter now, for he had saved the man. Yet no one everknew how narrow was the margin, for, as Bart was pulling the trigger,the wire was once more swayed by the wind, and the bullet from the riflehad sped past the man's head less than two inches away. So close had hebeen to death! But Bart had shot true, and, ever, in after years, hecalled that his best shot.
A cheer went up from the crowd at the plucky act of the lad, but it wasquickly hushed as one of the linemen began to climb the pole, to assistdown his comrade who had had such a narrow escape. He was too unnervedto descend alone, but there was no more danger, for the live wire wasout of the way, and other linemen, with insulated gloves, soon had it inits proper place.
CHAPTER XXX
THE DIAMOND BRACELET--CONCLUSION
Bart turned to make his way out of the crowd, for he was anxious aboutFenn. He had given up all hope of capturing the mysterious man, who hadstarted to hasten away before the accident to the lineman on the pole,and who, doubtless, was far enough off by this time. But Bart's progresswas arrested by a voice.
"Hold on, young fellow!" exclaimed the workman whose life Bart hadsaved. "I want to shake hands with you. That was a corking good shot. Iheard the bullet whistle past me, and then I knew I was safe. Shake!"and he extended his hand that did not tremble as much as did Bart's,such nerve did the electrician have. He had fully recovered from histhrilling experience.
Bart received modestly the almost extravagant praise accorded him, andonce more began to make his way toward where Fenn had been carried.
"Where is my chum?" he asked. "The lad who fainted."
"Oh, he's coming around all right," answered a man. At that moment Fennhimself came through the press of people around Bart. He had recoveredfrom the shock caused by the sudden pressure on his sore arm.
"Are you all right?" asked Bart, anxiously.
"Sure. How about you?" inquired Stumpy. "I hear you made a great shot."
"Don't talk about it," pleaded Bart, who was now almost as nervous as agirl. "Where are Ned and Frank?"
"Following that man, I suppose," began Fenn, and then he stoppedsuddenly, for people looked curiously at him.
"Yes, we must look them up," went on Bart, but he felt that a furtherchase would be useless.
"Say, you fellows aren't going to disappear until you do me a favor,"began the rescued lineman, good naturedly. "I want you to come to myhouse, and meet my wife. She'll want to know the boy who saved me from ahorrible death. It isn't far," he added, as he saw Bart was about todecline. "Please come. I'm not going to work any more to-day. I'm tooshaky."
They saw that it would not be kind to refuse, and the electrician ledthe way for Bart and Fenn through the crowd, who parted with murmurs ofadmiration for the lad who had made such a plucky shot. There was nosign of Ned or Frank.
"Well, I don't know how to begin to thank you," said the man, feelingly,when they were in a somewhat secluded place on the main street. The workof preparing for the ushering in of the New Year was almost completed."I never _can_ properly thank you,"
he went on. "My name's George Lang,and if ever you boys want a friend, or if you want anything done in theline business, you call for George," and he meant what he said.
"I'm glad I was able to fire, and sever the wire," said Bart, as hewalked along with Mr. Lang, "but I wish it had happened a few minutesearlier--or later," he added.
"I'm sorry it happened at all," declared Mr. Lang. "I never had anaccident like that, and I don't want another. But what difference didthe time make?"
"Because we were on the trail of a thief," explained Bart, "and heskipped out just before you got caught on top of the pole. He was a chapwho had stolen a diamond bracelet, and we boys are accused of the crime.We wanted to capture him to prove our innocence. My two chums are afterhim, but I don't believe they'll catch him. He saw us and skipped out.By the way," the lad added, as he recollected the incident, "he wavedhis hand to you, and you waved back to him from the top of the pole,just before the wire broke loose."
"Me?" exclaimed Mr. Lang in great astonishment. "I waved to adiamond-bracelet thief?"
"I don't say you knew him," declared Bart, fearing he had beenmisunderstood, "but you certainly greeted him. He had on a light cap,and he stood at the foot of the pole, and----"
"Him? Oh, you mean him--that--why----" the lineman seemed to bechoking--"a thief--stole a diamond bracelet----" He had to stop to catchhis breath, but whether it was from laughter, or because he choked, thelads could not decide. "Him a thief?" asked Mr. Lang.
"Or, if he didn't take the bracelet, he took the professor's mudturtle," put in Fenn, who had by this time recovered from hisindisposition.
"Mud turtle! Oh, dear! Mud turtles, you say? Oh, I--excuse me," andagain the lineman choked up. "I understand," he said at length. "I knowwho you mean. Would you like to meet him?"
"Would we?" gasped Bart and Fenn, together.
"That's enough. I'll guarantee to introduce you to him, if he's athome," went on Mr. Lang. "He lives next door to me. I know him well. Adiamond thief! Oh, dear! Mud turtles!" and again the lineman seemedovercome. "Don't say another word, but come on."
Much mystified, Bart and Fenn followed their friend. He led them up aquiet street, and into a neat cottage.
"Mary," he said to his wife, when he had introduced the lads, "one ofthese boys saved my life this afternoon, but I'll tell you more aboutthat later. Just now I've something else on hand. Do you know if Williamis home?" and he nodded at the house next door.
"Yes," said Mrs. Lang, wonderingly, "he just came in. I think he broughthome another turtle."
The hearts of Fenn and Bart gave jumps! At last they were on the trail!
Without a word the lineman led the way to the adjoining house. He seemedto be laboring under some emotion, as if he was trying hard not tolaugh. He knocked at the door, and a man answered the summons. Bart andFenn started back. There stood the mysterious person who had eluded themso often--the man they believed had taken the diamond bracelet belongingto the professor's wife! On his part the mysterious individual seemedanxious to run away at the sight of Bart and Fenn.
"William," began the lineman, "one of these lads saved my life a whileago. Now don't get excited--take things calmly. No one is going to hurtyou, or your turtles," and he spoke almost as he might to a child, or toa sick person. "I just want to introduce you to these boys. They arelooking for a diamond bracelet, and they think maybe you could help themfind it. Boys, this is my cousin, William Lang," and Bart thought thelineman winked significantly at him. Was there more to the mystery?
"Your cousin?" echoed Fenn.
"Yes," answered the man whose life Bart had saved. "He is one of thegreatest collectors of turtles in the world," and again he winked.
"That's what I am!" exclaimed William Lang, proudly, and he seemed tolose some of his fear. Still Bart could not help thinking that hismanner was very strange. "But I haven't any diamond bracelet," went onthe odd individual. "I know you boys think I have it, and you've beenchasing me for it, and trying to have me arrested, but I haven't got it.I tried to keep out of your way, but I couldn't seem to. You were alwaysafter me, even when I was only collecting turtles. I know about thebracelet, though."
"What do you know about it?" asked Bart, eagerly.
"Why, I read in the papers that it was stolen," said William Lang,simply. "It was taken the same night I went to the school to look atProfessor Long's turtles. He didn't want me to see 'em, but I did allright. I got in when he wasn't there, and fooled him. He was somysterious about 'em, that I thought he had a rare kind. But he didn'thave at all. Anyway I saw 'em, and he doesn't know it, even to this day.I got in at the dead of night," and the man's voice sunk to a whisper,and his face took on a cunning look.
"Then _you_ were the man we saw enter the school that night!" exclaimedBart.
"Did you see me? Did you see me?" gasped the lineman's cousin, in greatalarm. "Oh, yes, I remember now, I ran!"
"Sure we saw you," answered Fenn. "We were----"
Bart gave his chum a warning look.
"I didn't mean any harm," cried William Lang. "I only went in to see theturtles. I'm a great collector of them," he added. "I heard aboutProfessor Long's collection, and once I called on him at the school. Iwanted to see his reptiles, but for some reason he wouldn't let me. ButI made up my mind I _would_ see 'em. I knew he was trying to deceiveme--Professor Long was--so one night I took a false key I had, and I gotin the school. I had a dark lantern and I saw the turtles. I got aheadof Professor Long that time," and the man laughed excitedly. "But comein, and I'll show you my collection," he added.
He turned into the house, and the two boys, after a moment ofhesitation, followed. They did not yet quite understand. The linemanwhispered to them, when out of earshot of his cousin.
"You must humor poor William," he said. "He is all right except on thesubject of mud turtles. He thinks he has the greatest collection of themin the world. I don't in the least doubt that he went in the school bystealth to look at some. In fact, I heard from Professor Long about avisit he paid to him one day, when he wanted to see the schoolcollection. Professor Long had heard of my cousin, and knew him to beharmless, but William got so excited on the subject of turtles thatthe professor concluded it would not be best to exhibit the schoolcollection, so he refused. This made William suspicious, and very likelyhe made up his mind to sneak in, and get a night-view of the reptiles. Ihave no doubt but that he did so."
"He certainly did," answered Bart. "We saw him come out. Then, when thediamond bracelet was missed, we naturally concluded that he was theperson who had taken it."
The lineman shook his head.
"William would not do such a thing," he said. "There must be some otherexplanation. But humor him now by looking at his turtles. You may get aclew."
The boys did so. The eccentric man, who was somewhat insane on thesubject of turtles, had quite a collection of the queer reptiles--largereven than Fenn's, or the one in the High School. He talked of theminterestedly. By degrees Bart led to the subject of his visit to theschool, and touched on the diamond bracelet, but the man's repliesshowed that he knew nothing of it.
"I remember you boys," William Lang went on. "I recollect now that I sawyou as I hurried away from the school, and I thought you would chase me,but you didn't. Then I saw you in the shooting gallery, but I didn'tknow you at first. I'm a fine shot, you know, but I couldn't shoot wellthat night, after I recognized you," and he nodded at Bart. "By thistime I had learned of the missing bracelet, and I was afraid you mighthave me arrested for taking it, so I hurried away. But I never saw it."
He paused to replace in the cage a turtle that was crawling out, and thelineman took occasion to say in a whisper:
"That's another of William's odd notions. He thinks he is a crack rifleshot."
"Well, he did shoot pretty well," said Bart. "But I am wondering whereon earth the bracelet can be. We are all at sea again, over it."
"I would have more turtles if a certain Fenn Masterson had sold me hiscollection," went on the quee
r man. "I got his name from a naturalist'smagazine, for he collects turtles, it seems. I wrote to Mr. Masterson,asking him if he'd sell me his turtles. But I had to proceed verycautiously, for he lived in the same town where the bracelet was stolen,and I didn't want to show myself there. So I told him to leave hisanswer in an old sycamore tree. Then, after I did that I became alarmed,and I didn't dare go back to see if he had replied. Oh, you can't be toocareful in this business," concluded the man, with a cunning look.
"Why, _I'm_ that Fenn Masterson!" exclaimed the owner of the name.
"Are you?" demanded William Lang. "Will you sell me your turtles?"
"Of course," replied Fenn, who had rather lost interest in hiscollection, of late. "You can have them. We hid and waited to see if youwould call for an answer to your letter."
"I guess that's some more of poor William's imagination," remarked thelineman in a low voice. "Leaving a letter in a sycamore tree, and allthat sort of thing."
"No, that part's true enough," declared Bart. "We waited for some timein a storm for him to show up, but he never did. Oh, it's true enough. Iam beginning to understand some things now. The reason why your cousinran away from us so often was because of the notion he had that wewanted to arrest him. We would never have harmed him had we known."
"Of course not," agreed the lineman, he and Bart having talked inwhispers while the turtle collector was exhibiting some odd specimens toFenn. William Lang told of his visit to Oak Swamp, and how he had fledat the sight of the boys, fearing they wanted to cause his arrest, andhe also mentioned his trips to the mud volcano, and how he had run awayat the sound of some one stirring in the campers' tent, likewise how hehad led the boys a chase about the town, just prior to the accident onthe pole.
"But about the bracelet, I don't know a thing," concluded William Lang.
"No, and I think he tells the truth," added the lineman, in a low voice."I'm sorry, but you boys will have to keep on with your search."
It needed but a glance at the simple face of the turtle collector toshow that he was not a thief, even if he was a decidedly peculiarindividual.
"Well," remarked Bart, after a pause, "I guess all Fenn and I can do isto go back to the hotel, and wait for Ned and Frank to show up." The twoturned to leave the turtle collector's house. William Lang was busyinspecting his queer pets, and seemed to pay no further attention to hisvisitors.
"William was always a little queer," remarked the lineman, as heaccompanied the boys outside. "Harmless, but odd. Just daffy on the mudturtle question. I don't wonder he gave you lots to think about, or thatyou didn't quite know how to take him. He is all right except onturtles. He'd walk fifty miles to get a new one. But he's well off, andcan afford to indulge in his fancy."
As Bart and Fenn turned into the street they saw, coming toward them,Ned and Frank. Ned was frantically waving a paper in the air.
"How'd you find your way here?" called Bart.
"People in the crowd told us you'd come here," replied Frank. "But haveyou heard the good news?"
"What good news?"
"The diamond bracelet wasn't stolen at all!" burst out Ned. "We just gottelegrams from home. They were at the hotel waiting for us. We wentthere after missing you in the crowd, when something happened on thetop of the pole. We tried to follow that mysterious man, but we missedhim. There are also telegrams for you two fellows. I thought you hadthem, or----"
"For gracious sake tell us the good news! What about the diamondbracelet?" yelled Bart.
"It's been found!" exploded Ned. "It wasn't stolen at all. It had fallendown a crack in the cabinet, in Professor Long's room, and a snake wastaking his winter sleep over the crack. Yesterday the snake died, Mr.Long took it out--and found the bracelet."
"Well, I'll be jiggered!" exclaimed Bart.
"I should say it was good news," declared Fenn. "This takes suspicionfrom the Darewell Chums."
Two days later the boys returned to their winter camp, and, after nearlya month spent in the forest, they packed up, walked in to Cannistota,sent a teamster back for their goods, and took a train for home.
The lads arrived at their home-town at dusk. Jed Sneed was at thestation to meet them.
A little later the four chums were in their respective houses, tellingof their adventures to their eager parents--there was considerable totell.
THE END
Transcriber's Notes:
--Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
--Printing, punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.
--Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.
--Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.
Bart Keene's Hunting Days; or, The Darewell Chums in a Winter Camp Page 29