The Forest of Mystery

“Stop!” Joe commanded, running in that direction.

Exerting himself to the utmost, the boy pursued the fleeing man. He was but a short distance away when the latter jumped into his car and started the engine, a moment later shooting away toward the road.

Joe made an unsuccessful attempt to mount the running board, but failed. Then, criticizing himself for not arriving at the scene sooner, he watched the car turn up the road.

Impulsively, he jumped into Mr. Holton’s sedan, but found that the key was not there.

“We’re licked,” he moaned. “No use going after him. His car could run circles around Mr. Holton’s, anyway.”

He waited a little while for his father and friends to appear, but when they did not, he again went into the house.

“Joe! See anything of the fellow we’re after?” The speaker was Bob, who had appeared at the top of the basement stairs.

“Yeah, but it didn’t do me any good,” the other youth answered, and then told of his pursuing the escaped man.

“So he got away, did he?” said the policeman. “Well, we’ll fix him. There’s a telephone in that front room there. I’ll call up headquarters and tell them to stop him.”

“Maybe the wires have been cut,” suggested Mr. Lewis.

Somewhat to their surprise, the telephone was in working order.

After calling the police station and giving a complete description of the fleeing man and the car he was driving, the officer moved that they make a thorough search of the house in the hopes of finding the stolen specimens there.

“We men will look in the basement,” said the officer. “You younger fellows can search the upper floor. If you find anything, let us know right away.”

“Leave it to us,” chuckled Joe, as he led the way up the stairway. “If that stuff is up there, we’ll find it.”

“Maybe he took it with him in the car when he left,” said Bob. “He was a long time in leaving, you know.”

The chums searched the upper floor thoroughly but could find no trace of the stolen specimens. They went back over the rooms once more, but could again find nothing.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to admit defeat,” Mr. Holton said, when the chums had made their way downstairs. “We’ve looked all over the place, but it’s no use. One thing seems apparent: the thief took the specimens with him when he escaped.”

The situation was indeed most disappointing. They had come to this isolated house confident that they could recover the box of stolen specimens. Then, when they were about to find them and arrest the thief, the tables were unexpectedly turned. It was most disheartening, to the naturalists especially.

Although they had searched every section of the house, they resolved to look once more, even though it had become necessary to switch on electric lights. They also looked through several outbuildings.

An hour later, however, it became evident that nothing was to be found. Tired and downhearted, the five left the house and got in Mr. Holton’s car, ready to admit defeat.

The policeman took his leave at the police station, and then the others drove on home.

“The last we’ll see of those valuable specimens, perhaps,” moaned Mr. Lewis, as he brought the automobile up in front of the houses.

“Don’t be too sure of that,” spoke up Bob, assuming an air of optimism. “Like that officer said, with radio and all the latest inventions, police can trail anyone nowadays.”

“That’s right,” agreed Mr. Holton. “I certainly hope he’s caught.”

“And that they do it before we leave for Africa,” added Mr. Lewis.

“Africa!” repeated Bob longingly. The coming expedition to the Dark Continent had been absent from his mind all the afternoon and evening. “You will take Joe and me with you, won’t you? Please say that we can go. We’ll do all we can for the expedition and won’t cause any trouble.”

“There’s no danger of your doing that,” Mr. Holton said at once. “In fact, there have been times when Ben and I were glad you were near. But the hazard of it all, boys!”

“You know, Howard,” began Mr. Lewis, “I’ve been thinking this thing over, and I believe the trip to Africa would do the boys a world of good.”

“Hurrah!” cried Joe impulsively.

“They are plenty old enough to look out for themselves,” Mr. Lewis resumed. “And we’ll have to credit them with a lot of initiative. Personally, I am in favor of letting them go with us.”

Joe looked at his father hopefully, although in some surprise.

Bob seized upon the opportunity at once.

“That’s the way to talk, Mr. Lewis,” he said. “You see how we came out on that expedition into the Andes Mountains. Were successful in about everything. And the moving-picture house was well pleased with the pictures we took. There’ll be another opportunity to make money taking movies of Africa – if we can go.”

Mr. Lewis rose from his chair.

“Suppose we talk the matter over with their mothers,” he suggested. “And it won’t be easy to get their consent, either. But we can see what they think of it.”

Mr. Holton was very much undecided about the matter of allowing Bob and Joe to go, but he consented to do as Mr. Lewis suggested.

“Then,” he said, addressing the chums, “we can let you know later how things stand. All right?”

“Sure,” Joe answered. He felt that there was a big chance of things going in his favor. “But please don’t talk against it to our mothers.”

Mr. Holton smiled, and then, at a call from the Lewis residence, the little party disbanded.

CHAPTER X

Off for Africa

“HIP-HIP-HOORAY! Zowie! Rah! Rah! Rah!”

“For crying out loud!” exclaimed Bob Holton. “What’s got into you, Joe?”

Joe danced around in wild delight, throwing his hat high into the air and catching it as it came down. He stood on his head, turned a somersault on the grass, and performed other feats.

“Wow!” cried Bob. “You’d have a circus daredevil green with envy. But why all this jumping around? You act like a wild man.”

“Wild man! Hurrah for wild men! And wild animals!”

“Keep it up, old boy,” sang Bob. “When you come back to your senses, maybe I can get something out of you.”

Joe continued his acrobatic stunts, which ended very abruptly as he came up against a tree that he did not know was so close.

“What’s the big idea?” he growled. “Having a tree right in my way. Wait till I go get an ax.”

Joe gained his feet and made a dash toward the house. But in one bound Bob brought him to the ground with a flying tackle that he had used so advantageously on the football field.

“Come clean!” roared Bob. “What’s the big idea, anyway? You’d better talk.”

“Not till I finish my stunt,” said Joe stoutly. “Not – Hey! Cut it out!”

Joe became choked with laughter as his chum’s hand pressed against his ribs. For Bob knew only too well that Joe was not a little ticklish.

“If I can’t get it out of you one way, I will another,” said Bob, never giving his chum an inch.

“Say! What are you ginks up to?”

On the instant Bob released his hold and wheeled about. Then a look of combined bewilderment and delight came on his face.

“Chubby Stevens!” he cried wildly, getting to his feet.

“It’s Chubby as sure as I’m born!” added Joe, displaying even more surprise. “Why, when did you get here?”

The new arrival was a short, exceedingly fat youth, with twinkling eyes and a pug nose. Bob and Joe had made his acquaintance while in South America on their Andes expedition and had taken a great liking to him.

“Just happened to be in Washington and thought I’d drop around and see you bozos,” Chubby explained. “We came by airplane. Left Houston last night.”

“Boy! Am I glad to see you!” said Bob. “Of course, you’re going to stay awhile, aren’t you?”

“Only till tomorrow,” the fat little fellow said. “Dad came here to see the President, I guess,” he said with a chuckle. “Things ain’t goin’ to suit him in his business. He’s awful hard to please, Dad is. If the dough ain’t rollin’ in to suit him he thinks there ought to be something done about it.”

“Same old Chubby,” said Bob with a laugh. “Are you sure you’re telling the truth?”

“Well – the fact is, he didn’t make it clear just what he came for. Anyway, he came. And I went with him.”

“Ever been to Washington before?” inquired Joe.

“Nope. I got to within a half a mile of here once. But just as we were about to hit the city limits, Dad turned off on another road.”

Bob and Joe laughed.

“Well, then,” began the latter, “suppose we spend the day looking around. We can see the city and go to the museum and take a look at the specimens we brought back from the Andes. That is, unless you’d rather do something else.”

“I’d rather do that than anything,” Chubby said at once. “But – ” he hesitated – “if you gazooks have anything else to do – ”

“We won’t have anything to do for several days,” spoke up Joe.

“What are you goin’ to be up to then – after those several days are up?” demanded Chubby.

“Plenty,” returned Joe. “Ever hear of Africa?”

“Let me think.” The fat youth rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The word sounds familiar,” he said at last. “What is it, a new kind of dog food?”

“Cut the comedy,” said Joe, suppressing a smile. “The thing is that Bob and I are going there.”

“To Africa? No kiddin’!”

“Not a bit,” returned Joe. “We’ll be leaving in a short time now.”

“Wait a minute,” snapped Bob. “How do you know you and I are going? They haven’t told us yet.”

“Oh, no? Well, just for your own benefit, Dad told me a little while ago that our mothers have given their consent. We can go on the expedition.”

Bob stood for several minutes as though transfixed. Then, as though the full meaning of his chum’s words had been suddenly released, he jumped up with a shout of joy.

“Africa!” Bob cried. “Hurrah!”

“And still you wonder why I did all that jumping around a while ago,” grinned Joe.

“So that was it?” asked Bob. “Well, why didn’t you tell me?”

“So you’re going to Africa, are you?” came from Chubby Stevens. “Gonna start a circus?”

“Hardly,” returned Joe. “Dead animals are bad enough to bring back, let alone live ones. But right now, Chubby, come in the house. The lawn isn’t any place to visit.”

The remainder of that day Bob and Joe spent in entertaining their friend from Houston. The three visited the museum and had a long talk with Mr. Holton and Mr. Lewis, who at once took a liking to Chubby. Then, after viewing the many specimens of animal life that had recently been brought back from the Andes, the three drove around the city, noting the United States Capitol, the White House, Arlington National Cemetery, and many other notable attractions.

Very late that afternoon Bob and Joe let their friend out in front of the hotel in which he and his father were staying. Chubby explained that, as they were to start back to Houston before daylight the next morning, he could not remain longer with his friends.

“Watch yourselves while you’re in Africa,” he warned, as parting words. “Don’t get on the inside of a lion.”

“We’ll try not to,” laughed Bob, and then, with a final farewell, he sent the car homeward.

That evening Bob and Joe thanked their parents warmly for allowing them to prepare for the African expedition. They promised their mothers that they would be unusually careful and not take chances while in the jungle.

“And now,” began Bob the next morning, “we’ll have to do some hustling, because we leave Friday. This is Monday, you know.”

“And how I wish it were Friday now!” groaned Joe.

The youths were far from idle during the week. They found that there was much to be purchased in the way of outdoor equipment, for although they had been on several previous expeditions, never had necessity demanded so much as now. Much of the equipment, however, could be furnished by the two naturalists, who had a large collection of rifles, cartridges, outdoor clothing, tents, kits, and various other articles.

“Here’s something that might interest you, boys,” said Mr. Lewis one evening, as he caught the chums on the back lawn.

“What is it?” inquired Bob, noticing what the scientist held. “Looks like a kind of club.”

“Hardly that,” laughed Mr. Lewis, “though it might be used as a club. But the thing is, boys, that this is a flashlight without batteries.”

“A – a what?” demanded Joe in surprise. “Flashlight without batteries? What are you talking about, Dad?”

“I thought that would get you,” Mr. Lewis laughed. “But no joking, this is just what I said. You see, it contains a small generator. As you turn this crank, it makes electricity, and the bulb lights.”

“What a contraption!” said Bob. “But, say! Speaking of turning cranks, that reminds me. Joe and I haven’t notified the Neuman Motion Picture Corporation that we’re going to Africa. And they told us to let them know when we left for a little-known land. If we’re going to take movies of Africa, we’ll have to telegraph them at once and maybe go to Philadelphia to see them.”

“I’ve already sent them word,” said Joe. “Forgot to tell you about it. As soon as our mothers said we could go, I went down and telegraphed. They said they’d send the cameras and film at once by express.”

“You did?” asked Bob in astonishment. “Good old Joe. Gotta hand it to you, all right.”

But despite what the Neuman Corporation had informed Joe, the motion-picture cameras and film had not arrived Thursday evening, as the youths and their fathers prepared to retire. On the morrow – Friday – they were to leave for Baltimore, whence they would embark on the steamer Zanzibar.

“Doggone it, anyhow!” exclaimed Bob Holton, who was fairly fuming at the mouth. “What will we do? We haven’t time to go to Philadelphia now.”

“Looks like you fellows aren’t going to take movies of Africa,” remarked Mr. Holton, who also felt the youths’ bitter disappointment.

“But – but they would be better than any we’ve ever taken,” mourned Joe. “No,” he went on, “we’ll have to arrange it some way. It might be best for you men to go on and let Bob and me take another ship. We – ”

“I’m afraid you couldn’t do that, boys,” said Mr. Lewis, shaking his head. “We’ve already made reservations for you, and those could not easily be broken. A contract is a contract, you know.”

“The only thing for you to do,” came from Bob’s father, “is to telegraph Neuman the first thing in the morning to send the cameras and film on to Africa if they haven’t sent them yet. Of course, if they have, your mothers can forward them on to Africa by another ship.”

That night Bob and Joe were far from hopeful. Since they had been engaged on their first expedition, to Brazil, to take moving pictures of the strange places and animals they saw, the chums had longed for a chance to photograph wild life in African jungles. Now, to be leaving for those mysterious jungles without taking motion pictures was unthinkable.

But despite these grave thoughts, the youths slept soundly and awoke the next morning in high spirits. After all, they were going to Africa. What if they could not go? That would really be something to cry over.

The four adventurers tore themselves with difficulty from the breakfast table and arranged their belongings together. The boys’ fathers drove the family cars around in front.

“Let’s get started at once,” urged Mr. Holton, looking at his watch. “The train leaves for Baltimore in little more than half an hour. That means we’ll have to hurry.”

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when an express truck drove up and stopped just behind the two cars. Out of it stepped the driver, who carried a large tightly sealed box.

“The motion-picture cameras!” cried Joe in extreme joy. “They’re here at last!”

CHAPTER XI

An Amusing Acquaintance

“HOW was that for timing it to a dot?” laughed Bob, after the express driver had left.

“Couldn’t have been better,” said Joe. “Boy! Am I glad that stuff got here!”

Bob placed the big box in the Holton car, and then all made ready for the drive to the railroad station.

They reached their destination with fifteen minutes to spare and at once set about having the baggage sent up to the tracks.

The leavetaking was painful to all, for it was as hard for the four explorers to go as it was for those staying at home to give them up. But finally, with last warm farewells, the youths and their fathers left for the tracks.

“Bring me a lion cub!” called Tommy, Bob’s small brother, shouting to make himself heard.

“I might surprise you, Tom, old man,” Bob shouted back, laughing in spite of himself at his brother’s remark.

With one last wave, the youths and their fathers headed for the tracks, where the Baltimore express was waiting. Red-capped porters brought their baggage up in the rear and placed it on the train. Then the adventurers themselves boarded.

Before long, with a clanging of bells the express puffed out of the station and steamed in the direction of Baltimore. At last the long journey had begun.

For some time both Bob and Joe were silent, watching the country as it whizzed past them. Then, almost before knowing it, they pulled into Baltimore.

Mr. Lewis hailed a taxi, and they were whirled through the busy streets to the docks, where, at some point, their steamer, the Zanzibar, was anchored.

“What do you think of her, boys?”

It was Mr. Holton’s voice as a little later the four explorers found themselves peering ahead at the ship on which they were to embark.

“I hardly know,” returned Bob, who was somewhat disappointed at sight of the vessel. “Suppose you answer that question, Dad, Mr. Lewis.”

“I’m afraid we’re a bit stung,” muttered his father, gazing at the Zanzibar.

The steamer was far from modern in appearance; its sides were beginning to look rusty, and the cabin was badly lacking in paint. About two hundred feet long, it looked as though it had seen many years’ service.

“Will that take us all the way to Africa?” demanded Joe, who was almost at the point of anger.

“We’ll probably get there,” returned his father. “But how!”

“Why didn’t you pick a better boat?” asked Bob. “The passage wouldn’t have cost any more, would it?”

“This happened to be the only one sailing soon,” was the answer from Mr. Lewis. “I took for granted that it would be satisfactory.”

They went up the gangplank, having resolved to make the best of a bad matter.

“Anyway,” said Bob, “it’s far better than not going at all.”

The vessel was not to lift anchor until late that afternoon, and so the youths had some time to walk about the docks.

“Whatever you do, get back here in time,” warned Mr. Lewis, as the chums left down the gangplank. “It would be a terrible thing to be left behind.”

“We’ll be there,” returned Bob.

He and Joe spent some time in looking around. They saw many strange and interesting people and things at the waterfront, and would have liked to stay longer. But at one o’clock they decided to take no chances and boarded the Zanzibar, although it was still several hours before sailing time.

The youths were shown to their stateroom, which went somewhat beyond their expectations, it being large and well appointed.

“Maybe this old boat doesn’t look very well on the outside, but she’s O.K. inside,” remarked Bob, as he left with his chum for the outer deck. “Couldn’t ask for much better.”

On deck the two found their fathers eagerly waiting for the ship to move out to sea. The men were becoming more restless with every passing minute.

Then at last the longed-for moment came. A cry of “All ashore!” A chugging of tugs. A mad scramble of visitors down the gangplank. Then, with a clanging of bells and a groaning of hawsers, the Zanzibar began to move away from the dock.

“We’re off!” exclaimed Joe Lewis, waving mechanically at the crowd of people who were there to see the steamer leave.

Slowly the vessel threaded her way through the heavy water traffic. It steamed out through the Patapsco River and then at last turned into Chesapeake Bay.

Bob and Joe remained on deck with their fathers for some time, noting everything worthwhile that was visible about them. Finally Bob turned to his friend.

“Suppose we go below,” he suggested. “I’d like to take a look at the ship.”

The boys spent the remainder of the day in exploring the Zanzibar and were greatly interested in everything they saw. But they knew at once that the ship had been in service for many years.

The ocean voyage was not novel to them, but, nevertheless, they enjoyed it immensely. The days passed pleasantly enough, the chums seeking amusement by swimming in the ship’s pool, playing various deck games, and reading in the library.

One morning they were leaning on the rail, watching the rolling of the waves, when a high-pitched voice roused them. Looking around, they saw a tall, very slim young man of perhaps twenty, with light wavy hair and an unusually light complexion. His features were very delicate, and his voice very much resembled that of a lady.

“I say there,” he greeted, extending a shapely white hand. “Really marvelous weather we’re having, don’t you think?”

“Why – yes,” returned Bob, after a moment of hesitation. “Yes, the weather’s swell so far. I sure hope we don’t run into a tropical storm.”

“A what?” The slender young man turned a shade paler. “Did you say storm?”

“Yes,” returned Bob, inwardly amused. “I heard the captain talking this morning. He seemed to think there’s a chance of striking a hurricane.”

“Goodness gracious!” cried the strange young man. “That would simply be horrible. Could there not be something done about it?”

“Well – ” Bob hesitated – “I don’t know of anything. Just have to go through it, I suppose. But perhaps after all there won’t anything happen. I’d like to to reach port under a clear sky.”

“And so would I, my dear chap. Are you seeking pleasure by traveling?”

“To a certain extent we are,” Bob answered him. “My chum here and myself are with our dads to collect specimens of animal life and photograph the country,” he explained. “Holton is my name – Bob Holton. This is Joe Lewis.”

“Most delighted to know you,” said the white-faced youth. “Cecil Purl Stone is my name. A real pleasure to know you. I’m – traveling just for the fun of it,” he said with a foolish little laugh. “I do consider travel as one of the most gorgeous ways of enlightening oneself. It is – so very amusing,” and he laughed again, this time even more girlishly.

“Yes, it is,” said Joe, keeping back a smile. “But the fact is, Bob and I won’t have much time for travel in the true sense of the word. We’ll be too busy hunting and photographing.”

“Hunting? Gracious sakes! Don’t tell me you are permitted to carry firearms!”

Bob and Joe smiled instinctively.

“Hunting is great sport,” said the latter. “But we never kill anything just for the pleasure of killing it. We have a good reason whenever we shoot an animal.”

“Ugh!” exclaimed Cecil with a shudder. “I never could bear the thought of a gun. Believe me, they certainly give me a creepy feeling. Once I went with Mamma to India. We intended to travel through a part of the country that was a little – dangerous, but when they told us we had better carry firearms I revolted right then and there. The very thought of such a horrible thing made the cold chills creep down my back.”

“But there isn’t anything bad about a rifle,” Joe told him. “That is, if you know how to use it. My friend and I may find our guns very useful when we get among such animals as gorillas.”

“Gorillas! A beastly word. But don’t inform me you are going to search for such terrible things!”

“Well, not exactly,” answered Bob. “But if any come our way we’ll probably bring a few down for specimens. And we’ll also be on the lookout for other dangerous game. Lions and leopards, for instance.”

“Gracious!” Cecil Stone’s mouth was wide open. “And you expect to return from that horrible country alive?”

“We hope to,” returned Joe with a smile. “And you – what do you intend to do in Africa?”

Cecil Purl removed a bright blue comb from its case. He fixed his hair very carefully before he again spoke.

“We wish to visit the cities,” he told them, “and mingle with the socially prominent people. It will be most enlightening, believe me. We hope to be invited very often to tea. Perhaps – ”