Motor Boat Boys on the Great Lakes Part 11

"Get behind a tree, quick!"

"Run, Buster, run for your life! It'll get you!"

George, Herb and Josh sent these warning cries at the top of their voices. As to whether the object of their combined concern heard, there could be no reasonable doubt; for Nick immediately waved one of his fat hands disdainfully toward them. Evidently he imagined that his chums were envious of his great good luck in finding so splendid a chance to annex a beautifully striped real Canadian p.u.s.s.y cat.

"Oh! murdher!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Jimmie, "look at the rickless fellow, would ye? Sure, he manes to grab it, so he do!"

"But he won't, all the same!" cried George, grimly.

Since shouting and gesturing seemed to have no effect upon the imperiled youth, all the four boys could do was to stand there, holding their breath, and watching the dreadful developments. Nor was that the first time or the last that they found occasion to hold their breath.

Nick by now believed that he had wheedled enough, and was within proper striking distance. They saw him make a sudden forward swoop, with extended arms, as if bent upon giving the intended victim no possible chance of escape.

"Wow!" yelled George, as he saw Nick stop short, throw up his arms, and almost fall to the ground.

One terrified look Buster gave the object of his recent admiration. Then turning, he ran as well as he could toward camp, gripping his nose with both hands.

"Keep off!"

"Don't you dare come near us, do you hear!"

"Now you've gone and done it, Buster! That's what you get for wanting to bake poor little Jocko!"

George, as if in desperation, jumped over and picked up his gun.

"Stop where you are!" he cried. "We're willing to talk this thing over; but at a proper distance, do you hear, Buster?"

Poor Nick was aghast. Almost overpowered by the terrible fumes as he was, it looked like adding insult to injury when his own chums turned against him, and refused to let him enter the camp.

He did come to a halt some thirty feet away, and with one hand, clung to a sapling; while the other was trying to keep the powerful scent from smothering him.

"What can I do, fellows?" he asked, pitifully.

George was almost bursting with laughter, but pretended to look as stern as his father when serving in his capacity as judge of the court.

"First promise that you won't attempt to enter the camp without permission!" he demanded.

"I promise you, sure I do," groaned Nick swaying weakly alongside his support.

"Jimmie," went on George, "you go and call Jack in, if he isn't on the way here already, after all this racket. We want everybody to have a hand in deciding Buster's fate."

"Good gracious!" cried the wretched Nick, "what d'ye mean, George? Do I have to be shot, because I made a little mistake? I give you my word I really thought it was a Canada species of cat. And if we had to have a menagerie along with us, I was going to match her against your monkey.

Oh! why didn't I think? I ought to have known better. It was awful, fellows; shocking I tell you!"

"I agree with you, Buster," remarked George, putting his fingers up to his nose, "please go a little farther away. We can talk better then."

Jimmie had hardly reached the sh.o.r.e before he started back. And Jack was seen following close behind. Evidently, then, the fisherman must have heard the loud outcries, and speeded his little boat for the landing, anxious to know what could have happened to Nick.

He had no need to be told. One hardly required to be within sixty feet of poor Buster to understand the entire story. Jack did not laugh though doubtless later on the incident would afford him more or less merriment.

It was a serious matter, as he well knew, and must affect every one in the party.

"Jack," called out Nick, looking beseechingly at the commodore of the fleet, "take my part, won't you? They want to shoot me, or do something as bad, just because I didn't know the gun was loaded. Please take that thing away from George. He looks so fierce I'm afraid of him!"

So Jack, to ease the mind of the fat boy, who was really s.h.i.+vering with antic.i.p.ation of dire results springing from his blunder, did take George's gun from his unresisting hands, and laid it aside.

"But Jack!" exclaimed Herb, "something's just got to be done. We can't bear to have him in camp with us, you know, after this. And think of me having to stand for that dreadful smell day after day. Wow! it would knock me out. I'd want to jump over in the deepest part of Lake Superior."

"I don't see what can be done," said George, "except to maroon him here on this foreign island until we come back again. By that time perhaps it won't be so very bad. Herb can keep him in the d.i.n.ky towing behind, and stand it."

At that poor Nick set up a fresh howl.

"Don't you dare think of doing that," he cried, shaking his fat fist at the author of the suggestion. "Why, I'd starve to death in no time; not to speak of being devoured by the wild beasts. Think up some other way, won't you, please, Jack? Don't listen to George. He's got it in for me because I gave him so much bother on that Mississippi cruise. I want you to fix it up, Jack. You'll know how."

Jack still looked very grave.

"Well, you understand that in a case of this kind only desperate remedies will do, Buster?" he began.

"Yes, yes, I know;" whimpered the other, "and I'm willing to do anything you say, Jack; but don't leave me here over in a Canadian wilderness. It ain't human, that's what!"

"All right," Jack proceeded, solemnly, "if you give me your solemn promise to obey. First of all you must strip off every bit of clothes you have on."

Nick began at once, and with eagerness.

"Will it wash out, then? Oh! I can rub like a good fellow, I promise you; only give me a chance!" he exclaimed.

"All the was.h.i.+ng in the world wouldn't take that scent out," George declared.

"There's only one way, and that is to bury the clothes!" said Jack.

"What?" gasped the astonished Nick; "and me go naked? Good gracious!

Jack, I just can't do that! Make it easier for me, won't you? Why, I'd get my death of cold. Besides, what would I do when we got to the Soo?

Please tell me something else."

At that the boys could hold in no longer, and a shout told that they were beginning to see the comical side. But Jack waved his hands.

"Be still!" he said, sternly. "This is no laughing matter. Never fear Buster, but you'll be able to rake up enough clothes to last till we get to the Soo, where you can buy a new outfit. Off with every st.i.tch, now.

Then you must dig a hole and bury them; or else carry the lot deep into the bush here, as you choose."

"Is that all?" asked Nick, tremulously, as he hastily tore the last remnant of his garments from his stout person.

"Not quite," replied Jack. "Get rid of the stuff next. Then come back to where you are now. I'll be waiting for you with a pair of short scissors I happen to have along with me; for you see I've just got to cut all your hair off!"

"Oh! what a guy I'll be, Jack," moaned poor Nick. "I'll sure never hear the last of this thing."

"Think of us!" said George, sternly, "how we must remember it for days and days. You're getting off dirt cheap, Buster, let me tell you. I've heard of fellows who had to live like hermits in the woods for weeks."

"Now get busy," observed Jack. "The boys will be rooting out your bag, and I'll fetch what clothes we can gather to you. We must do all we can to smother this perfumery factory."

"Yes, be off wid ye!" said Jimmie, bent on having a hand in the game.