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                   THE OUTDOOR CHUMS IN THE FOREST

                                  OR

                    Laying the Ghost of Oak Ridge

                       BY CAPTAIN QUINCY ALLEN

    AUTHOR OF "THE OUTDOOR CHUMS," "THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE LAKE," "THE
    OUTDOOR CHUMS AFTER BIG GAME," ETC.

    _ILLUSTRATED_

    NEW YORK
    GROSSET & DUNLAP
    PUBLISHERS

    COPYRIGHT, 1911 BY
    GROSSET & DUNLAP




    THE OUTDOOR CHUMS SERIES

    BY CAPTAIN QUINCY ALLEN


    THE OUTDOOR CHUMS
    Or The First Tour of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club

    THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE LAKE
    Or Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island

    THE OUTDOOR CHUMS IN THE FOREST
    Or Laying the Ghost of Oak Ridge

    THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE GULF
    Or Rescuing the Lost Balloonists

    THE OUTDOOR CHUMS AFTER BIG GAME
    Or Perilous Adventures in the Wilderness




[Illustration: "WOW! LOOK AT THE BUNCH, WILL YOU?"]




CONTENTS


  CHAPTER                                                    PAGE

        I A QUESTION OF NERVE                                   1

       II LAYING PLANS                                         12

      III THE CAMP BY THE WAYSIDE                              21

       IV THINGS BEGIN TO HAPPEN                               30

        V JED, THE RUNAWAY BOUND BOY                           38

       VI FARMER DOBSON CHANGES HIS MIND                       47

      VII THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS                               57

     VIII EVERYTHING SEEMS TO COME THEIR WAY                   66

       IX FRANK TRIES TO SOLVE THE RIDDLE                      75

        X THE "TOTE" ROAD IN THE FOREST                        84

       XI FARMER DOBSON AND HIS PRIZE BULL                     93

      XII THE NIGHT ALARM                                     101

     XIII A CHANGE OF BASE                                    110

      XIV FIGHTING THE QUICKSAND                              121

       XV JERRY MAKES A GUESS                                 129

      XVI A TIME FOR QUICK ACTION                             137

     XVII THE NEWS ADOLPHUS BROUGHT                           146

    XVIII THE DEN OF VIPERS                                   155

      XIX AN ORDER TO VACATE                                  164

       XX A MORNING WITH THE BLACK BASS                       172

      XXI THE SHERIFF DIPS INTO FAIRY STORIES                 183

     XXII PADDLING ACROSS LAKE SURPRISE                       192

    XXIII DOCTOR WILL TO THE FRONT                            200

     XXIV THE PROOF OF THE NEGATIVE                           208

      XXV CONCLUSION                                          217




THE OUTDOOR CHUMS IN THE FOREST




CHAPTER I

A QUESTION OF NERVE


"That's a likely yarn, Sandy. I tell you I don't believe in ghosts."

"All right. You can say what you like, Bluff Masters, but Caleb declares
he saw it."

"Oh, shucks! He must have been dreaming."

"Guess you never had any experience with that sort of things."

"Only once, and that time it turned out to be a crazy man. Since then
I've got my opinion of any fellow who takes stock in ghost stories."

"Think you're mighty brave just because you've got that old gun of yours
along--been having it at the locksmith's again, I reckon. Seems like
it's there half the time, getting some tinkering done. I dare you to go
out to Oak Ridge and settle this ghost question once for all. There you
are, and it's either take me up, or back down off that high horse."

"Vacation's set in, and my chums don't seem to know just where to go.
Tell you what, I've got a good notion to put it up to the crowd right
away."

"Talk is cheap, Bluff. I'll believe it when I hear of you fellows going.
So long," and the speaker, a boy who attended the same school in
Centerville that Bluff did, walked down the main street of the little
town that lay on Lake Camalot.

Bluff looked after him for a minute, as though he might be turning the
daring project over in his mind. Then he fondled the repeating shotgun
he was carrying, as if he resented the slur the other had cast upon its
good qualities.

"Say, now, perhaps that would be a dandy idea, all right. Some people
take considerable stock in that blooming old ghost story, and I reckon
it would make a lot of silly ones sleep sounder if we went out and
learned that the thing was only a fake after all. Wonder what the rest
of the boys would say if I proposed it. And Will, he'd declare he wanted
to take a snapshot of the ghost with his camera."

The idea seemed to amuse the boy, for he laughed softly to himself as
he once more shouldered his gun, took a new grip on the package of
ammunition he was carrying home, and again started along the main street
of the town.

It was a July morning. School was out, the Glorious Fourth was but a
memory, and the boys were trying to make suitable plans for spending
their vacation in various little outings of a character to suit their
love for the open.

There were an unusual number of people on the street that morning, Bluff
noticed. A circus was in town, and they had promised a street parade at
some time before noon, so that the boys and girls haunted the main
thoroughfare in large and constantly increasing numbers.

Now Bluff liked to see such an exhibition just as well as the next one,
but he believed he had plenty of time to get home with his gun and come
back again.

A little further on he came face to face with a rough-looking fellow
about his own age, whose freckled countenance took on a sneer at sight
of the gun which Bluff carried.

"See yuh been repairin' the little old shootin'-iron again, Bluff. Think
yuh happen tuh be some punkins because once yuh held up some of my crowd
with that stick when we happened to be empty-handed. Sho! yuh can be
brave enough when it's all one-sided, but turn the tables around an' I
bet you'd run faster than we did over on Wildcat Island," said this
worthy, as he stopped in front of the other.

Bluff belonged to a club of four boys who had formed plans to spend
their vacations in the open whenever possible. They called it the Rod,
Gun and Camera Club, and when a convenient storm tore off the roof from
half the Academy, the previous October, necessitating a short session of
holidays, they had gone up into the woods to camp, as told in the first
volume of this series, entitled "The Outdoor Chums; or, First Tour of
the Rod, Gun and Camera Club."

Here they were constantly annoyed by a crowd of town idlers, under the
leadership of one Andy Lasher, and the four chums passed through a
series of the most entertaining adventures, such as pleases all boys who
love excitement. These three comrades of Bluff were named Frank Langdon,
Jerry Wallington and Will Milton, the latter being a camera crank of the
first water, always ready to sacrifice his comfort and time if there was
any hope of securing a picture to commemorate the event.

During their outing, Jerry, being lost in the woods during a storm,
succeeded in saving the life of Andy, who after that refused to
continue his mean tactics of plaguing the chums, so that the leadership
of the opposition fell upon another fellow, the same Pet Peters who was
now jeering Bluff.

When the Easter week of holidays came, in early April, the chums had
decided to spend a portion of the time camping on a timber-covered
island near the foot of the ten-mile lake, and which was seldom visited
by any one on account of the stories told about the vast number of
wildcats to be found there, as well as the wild man who had been seen at
various times. A fire on the little steamboat plying the lake, and the
robbery of a passenger, played an important part in the exciting events
that occurred while the chums were at Wildcat Island, all of which,
including the solving of the mystery connected with the wild man, have
been set down in the second volume of this series, called "The Outdoor
Chums on the Lake; or, Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island."

As can be seen from what Bluff said, the boys were a bit uncertain as to
where they should go during the early part of vacation time. Later on
they expected to separate, as Will was to accompany his widowed mother
to the seashore, and two of the others also had plans after the same
kind; but for a couple of weeks they wanted some little, delightful
camping experience, not too far away.

Bluff secretly had a contempt for Pet Peters. Still, he knew the other
was an antagonist not to be lightly esteemed, and that once he set his
mind on a thing he could hardly be called off. The trouble was, as a
rule, his object proved to be a vindictive one, rather than worthy of
praise.

"Oh, I don't pretend to be a hero," said Bluff, as he gave the other boy
look for look, "and I'll put you wise to that right here. But when it
comes to a pinch, and some mighty mean fellows are trying to play tricks
on me and my chums, I can hold my own, all right. This gun may be
unlucky about getting out of order too often, but she can scatter the
shot, and is all to the good. You want to fight shy of her, Pet, that's
all."

"Say, they named yuh all right when they called yuh Bluff. Sometimes
these yer windbags they get punctured like. Take care that don't happen
to you. I reckon the parade must be comin', ter judge from all the
racket along yonder. Better fall in front and let the people of
Centerville see the great hero, hey?"

Bluff had turned his head to look. If what the other said were true,
then he would have no time to go home and leave his gun.

There did seem to be considerable excitement just at the bend in the
street, and it was growing greater with the passage of every second. Men
were running, shouting, and making for the sidewalks. Some caught up
small children in their arms. Every one appeared tremendously stirred,
as though an event far out of the common were about to occur.

Bluff laughed.

"Seems like people get crazier every year over the old circus. I
understand this is a bum one, anyway. Look at 'em scoot! They couldn't
act more like a lot of loons if the elephant had broken loose and was on
the warpath. I don't hear the band playing, do you, Pet?" he said.

"No, I don't. And I reckon there's somethin' gone wrong around that bend
in the street. Them fellers wouldn't act that way, else. See that fat
woman tumble over, will yuh! Now she rolls like a barrel to the
pavement. She's nigh about scairt to death, I tell yuh! What kin it be?"
exclaimed Pet.

By this time Bluff was aroused. He realized that all this tremendous
excitement could not have been caused by the near approach of the circus
parade. There was the sedate head of the Academy footing it for the
shelter of a shoeshop as if he had entered for a hundred-yard dash.
Heads were appearing at all the windows, and now shrieks began to be
added to the clamor.

Bluff wondered if he were dreaming. Had all Centerville gone crazy?
There was an asylum over at Merrick, but since when had its inmates
broken loose and taken up quarters in Centerville?

If he had not been gripping his gun and that package of shells, Bluff
might have rubbed his eyes to find out if he were really and truly
awake.

"Run! run!"

It sounded as though a dozen people were shouting that word. Why should
they want to get others to run? Had the lion broken out of his cage, and
was he coming down the street, looking for victims?

Some boys were climbing trees with mad haste. Perhaps they did not as
yet fully understand the need of such a retreat, but in time of danger
it seems natural for the ordinary boy to find refuge in a tree, as
though he were, in truth, descended from monkey ancestors.

Now for the first time they caught other words that were being shouted
by the panic-stricken people along the street, as they rushed hither and
thither, anxious to find shelter somewhere.

"Mad dog! Mad dog!"

Pet Peters gave a howl of fear. He was greatly afraid of all dogs, and
the very idea of a mad cur caused him to turn white and show his craven
blood.

He made a wild rush for the nearest tree, and clambered into the lower
branches with a speed that would have won a medal in a race.

Bluff wanted to follow after him. He felt his nerves quivering with
fright, and as he started to run his knees showed an inclination to
knock together.

There was the choirmaster, Mr. Melod, chasing across the street, and
heading for the milliner's establishment opposite. He was usually a very
dignified man, but just then, with his hat fallen off, and fear written
upon his face, he startled Bluff not a little.

"Run, Richard! Come this way, my boy!" he called, beckoning wildly; for
Bluff had come to a sudden pause in the middle of the road as a sudden
terrible thought flashed into his mind.

He had a gun in his hands, and ammunition in plenty. Pet Peters had just
called him next door to a coward, who could only show valor when
everything was on his side. Who was to stop this mad dog in his career?
There were many little children around the next bend, awaiting the
coming of the circus parade. What if some of them were bitten by the
beast, and he with a gun in his hands?

Bluff turned as white as a ghost. His hands were shaking furiously as he
broke open the package he carried. The shells fell in a heap to the
road, and eagerly the boy stooped down to pick up one and push it into
the magazine of the gun. Then he took up a second and a third.

There was no time for more. He would not need them. If he could not
finish the mad beast with three shots it was bound to be all over with
him. What that boy suffered as he crouched there, staring at the
terrible brute that came around the curve in the street, no one would
ever know.

He heard a clamor of voices. Some applauded his act, while others,
frightened lest he fall a prey to the fury of the mad dog, cried to him
to run while there was yet time. Even Pet Peters, perched securely on a
limb of the tree, nearly above Bluff, shouted to him to get behind the
trunk of the same.

Bluff heard this confusion as in a dream. He only saw that advancing
beast, and to his eyes the yellow hound looked almost as big as a lion
just then. Indeed, the brute did present a terrible aspect, with
bloodshot eyes, and foam dripping from his square jaws.

Bluff could hardly raise the gun to his shoulder, in order to glance
along the single barrel, but strange to say, just then it seemed as
though a miracle had been wrought, for his nerves became like steel, and
the gun no longer wavered.




CHAPTER II

LAYING PLANS


Like magic, it seemed, all that clamor died away.

Men and women simply stared at the terrible spectacle of that boy
crouched there in the street, and that huge dog advancing directly
toward him, with eager mien. Doubtless many a prayer was offered up for
the safety of the lad who had thrown himself into the breach between
that brute and the innocent children who thronged the square just
beyond.

"Hey, Bluff! Aim right atween his bloomin' old eyes!" called Pet from
his perch.

"Shoot!" shouted one man, almost wild because the dog was now so very
near the kneeling boy, whom he imagined must be petrified with fear.

But Bluff was waiting. He wanted to make sure. The shot in his gun was
small, and intended for birds. To render it effective against such a
beast it must go at close quarters, when it would have all the force of
a bullet.

Along that glistening barrel he could see the flaming eyes of the
vicious dog, now not more than twenty feet away. Then he pulled the
trigger!

Just as though he were shooting ducks in the slough at the foot of the
lake, Bluff instantly made a movement with his hands that Jerry always
likened to the action of a pump handle. Thank goodness! The locksmith
had done his job well, for the mechanism of the gun worked like a charm,
sending the empty shell flying, and pushing a full one into place.

He again aimed his weapon. The dog was on the ground, kicking, but even
as Bluff looked he struggled up again. This was the signal for a second
shot, and after that there was one last movement and the hideous
creature lay there, still.

Then broke out a wild shout that was taken up along the whole street.
People came thronging out of the houses to rush forward and gaze upon
the monster that had sent them into such a panic of fear. A few thought
to wring the hand of Bluff and thank him for what he had done.

The boy was no longer white. He had turned furiously red under these
praises, and hardly knew what to do or say, it was so embarrassing. Mr.
Melod, the choirmaster, wrung his hand, while tears came into his eyes.

"My dear boy, I am proud of you this day. That was a noble deed of
yours, and deserves to be handed down in the annals of Centerville, as
an incentive to the coming generations," he said with deep feeling.

"Oh, shucks! That wasn't so very much, sir. Any fellow with a gun would
have done it. What would they have thought of me running away, and with
this thing in my hands? I'm only ashamed to say I was about as badly
scared as Pet here. He didn't have a gun, so he climbed a tree,"
stammered the boy, trying to break loose from the encircling arms of
Miss Samantha Green, the old-maid milliner, who had witnessed the entire
performance from the window of her shop, and was inclined to be
sentimental at all times.

"Yes, I had a big stone up there with me, fellers, an' I was a-goin' tuh
crack the pup on the head with it w'en he kim under the tree; but Bluff
he got first say, as he allers does. It ain't fair, I tell yuh. I'd
a-give the dorg a plunk that would a made him croak," declared Pet,
shaking his head ferociously.

"Listen to him, will you, boys!" exclaimed Jerry Wallington, as with a
quick movement he snatched from the hand of the other the rock which he
had intended should demolish the big brute, and held it up. "This pebble
is what Pet meant to throw at that yellow beast. Like as not it would
have hurt him as much as a peashooter might. Talk to me about that for
bravery, will you? Only for my chum, somebody might have been hurt. He's
all to the good!"

Bluff had been watching his chance, and as soon as the excited old maid
freed her arms he darted away, followed by two other boys. These were
Jerry, and Will Milton, the latter of whom was smiling all over his
face.

"That was the time luck followed me, fellows. The photographer just
loaded my camera for me when I was buying a new lot of films, and if I
didn't snap off five of the dandiest pictures of that little circus you
ever saw. Wait till I get a chance to develop them, and see," he was
rattling along.

"There comes Frank, too! Stop and wait for him, boys," said Jerry just
then.

A fourth lad quickly joined the group. He was a fine-looking boy, with a
face full of determination and quiet courage. His first act was to
seize the hand of the still blushing Bluff and squeeze it fiercely.

"Great work, old man! The best ever! Lucky chap that you were to have
that gun of yours along. I happened to be in the drugstore, and the
people came pushing in so fast that it was impossible to get out. So I
glued my nose to a window, and saw it all. My heart was in my throat;
but I knew you wouldn't fail, though to tell the honest truth, I wasn't
half so certain about the gun."

"Then it's up to you to apologize to the bully old gun right away," said
Bluff. "Didn't she act great? Why, it was as easy as falling off a log.
Anybody could have done it. And don't you believe there was any hero
business about it, either. I was that badly scared my hands shook as if
I had fever and ague, like poor old Dad Atkins. Just pure luck carried
me through, fellows."

"Don't you believe it for a minute," declared Will vehemently, at this
juncture, "and when my pictures are developed I can prove it. I was only
fifty feet away, hardly that, and I give you my word that when the cur
was almost on top of Bluff all his shake left him. He aimed that gun as
if he was shooting at a set target."

"And to hear that big blower, Pet Peters, say he was ready to smash the
brute's cranium in with a rock, when he was gripping a pebble not half
as large as my hand! That is a joke to make me laugh," went on Jerry.

"What's that?" demanded Frank, who had not been present when the boast
was made.

"Pet was jealous. He says Bluff always cuts him out from hanging on to
the glory part. He was telling about snatching up a big rock, meaning to
let it drop on the head of the mad dog as he went under the limb of the
tree, when Jerry pulled it out of his hand. Here it is--I picked it up
for a memento."

Will held up a small stone as he spoke, at which Frank burst into a
laugh.

"I suppose at the time Pet really thought he was picking up a boulder.
What do you suppose that hard-headed brute would have thought if this
pebble had struck him? It would have been a flea bite. But for one, I'm
done laughing at that newfangled gun of yours, Bluff."

"Me, too. I've said some mighty mean things about it in the past, pard,
but never again. Talk to me about a handy thing to have about the house,
that same gun just seems to wallow in luck. It's Johnny-on-the-spot when
most needed. I may still believe in my double-barrel as the best thing
on earth, but this contraption has its uses, and many of 'em."

Which was saying pretty much for Jerry.

"But I saw you talking to Pet before all that row broke out," remarked
Will.

"Yes; he stopped me to jeer at the gun, like a good many other fellows,
who don't know a good thing when they see it," answered Bluff, grinning
amiably.

"Well, perhaps he's also changed his mind about it, like Jerry here,"
laughed Frank.

"To tell the honest truth, boys, perhaps it was something Pet said that
made me determine it was my duty to stand there and knock that beast
over," admitted Bluff, as if determined to confess all his shortcomings
while about it.

"And what was that?" asked Jerry, frowning, for he detested Pet above
all other boys in town.

"He was saying that it didn't take much courage to hold up fellows when
one had a gun and they didn't; he also took occasion to rub it in, and
declare that I was by nature a timid sort of a chap, well named Bluff.
Do you know, what he said came to me like a flash, even while my legs
were bent on carrying me across the street to a store or a tree. That
was why I stopped so suddenly. I was ashamed to run while I held this
gun. So you see there was no bravery about it, only desperation."

"Humbug! That's what most so-called bravery is, old fellow," said Frank,
patting him on the back.

"I saw you talking to Sandy Griggs, too," remarked Will.

"Say, that reminds me! I've got a plan to propose for a short outing. We
were fortunate enough to discover the secret of the wild man of the
island, last spring--what's to hinder us from going out to Oak Ridge and
doing a little investigating there, eh?" demanded Bluff eagerly.

The others looked at him curiously.

"Oak Ridge--that's out in the Sunset Mountains," remarked Will
dubiously.

"Seems to me I've heard considerable of that place lately. Isn't there
some sort of a ghost story going the rounds about it?" asked Frank,
smiling.

"Tell me about that, will you?" burst out Jerry, bristling up. "Bluff
isn't content with the laurels he's already won, but sighs for more.
First it was the wild man we rounded up, and now he hankers after laying
a real genuine ghost by the heels. Count me in, if you decide to go. I'm
always eager to have a share in all kinds of excitement, you know."

"Sandy says Caleb, the canal lockkeeper, saw the ghost really and truly.
Caleb isn't a drinking man, either, so he must have seen something or
other. What do you say, boys? Would it be fun, or not, to camp out in
that range of hills and run down this story of a ghost?" demanded Bluff.

"Those in favor, raise a hand," said Frank.

Instantly four hands went up.

"That settles it, then," declared the leader of the four chums. "We will
go to-morrow to camp along Oak Ridge, and discover, if we can, the truth
about this talked-of ghost."




CHAPTER III

THE CAMP BY THE WAYSIDE


"Get up, there, you Peter!"

"Give the old sleepy-head another cut with the whip, Jerry."

"No use. He only flips his stub of a tail around, and shakes his head. I
tell you nothing short of a burr under his tail would make old Peter
run, fellows."

"And at this time of year there are no burrs. Oh, well, we're in no
hurry. What if we do have to make a half-way camp? It is a part of the
fun, boys," and Frank lay back on the cargo in the wagon, and laughed to
see the ears of the patient horse wag back and forth as he toiled
stolidly along the rough road.

They had decided not to use their motorcycles on this trip, for several
reasons. In the first place, two of them were in need of a good
overhauling, and of the remaining couple, that belonging to Frank was
the only one always kept in trim. Besides, neither Adolphus, the
<DW52> man working for Mr. Wallington, nor his team, were available for
use, and so they had to hire a rig that was proving very disappointing
to all but Will, who took several fetching views of the picturesque
beast.

Sometimes the boys walked, but when they grew tired they climbed up on
the load, and Peter only wheezed a bit more, as though in protest.

The afternoon was well along by now. They had started just after noon,
and had been foolish enough to believe they might reach