"Where are you?" called Bones, as he and Frank pushed forward in the gathering dusk.
"Here! Be mighty careful, fellows, or you'll get in too!" came the answer, not far away.
"Told you so," remarked the doctor's son, with a little laugh; "poor Ralph; I pity him, because I've been there myself. When I come alone out here I always carry a short rope along. If I get stuck it helps me out."
"A rope? How under the sun can that help?" demanded a voice close by; showing that they were very near the boy who was stuck in the ooze, and also that he was alive to the inconvenience of his position.
"Why, you see, in most cases there's a limb of a tree hanging over, and it's dead easy to throw the rope across it. After that, one can pull out, unless he's allowed himself to sink too deep. Got a match with you, Frank?" asked Bones.
"Lots. I've found them handy on too many occasions lately to go without. Here you are, Bones. Going to make a fire, are you?" and Frank, bending down, commenced to assist in gathering some dead leaves together.
"Well," replied the other, "we ought to have some light to see how to work him free. It would be a tough joke if the whole bunch of us got stuck. I don't hanker after such an experience. Things are pretty dry up here, so we must be careful not to let the blaze spread any."
The fire was quickly a positive fact, and being fed with some small branches it leaped up grandly. In this fashion the entire neighborhood was illuminated.
Frank looked around. The sight was peculiar, and as the marsh ran into an actual swamp, he thought he had seldom seen a more weird effect. Still, what interested him most of all was the picture of Ralph, up to his knees in the soft slime that lay concealed under the dead leaves and green scum.
"I've tried all I could to get out, fellows, but the worst of it is, when I lift one foot the other only goes that much deeper down. If a fellow could only get hold of enough stuff to make a sort of mattress he might roll over on it and do the trick that way. I'd be trying that if I had daylight, and was alone here," remarked the imprisoned boy, calmly.
"Say, I never thought of that. It's a clever idea, all right. Next time I get stuck I'm going to see how it works," remarked Bones.
"Why not now, since you haven't your rope along. Here's just the ticket—some old fence rails lying in a heap. Cheer up, comrade, we'll have you out of that in a jiffy now," sang out Frank, seizing one of the long, cast-off rails, and dropping it on the surface of the muck.
Bones fell to along side, and between them they speedily formed a regular corduroy road out to where Ralph stood, watching the building with interest.
One of them got on either side. Then, with the aid of other rails they pried Ralph loose, so that he could crawl over to the "mattress," and get secure footing. After that nothing was needed but to walk ashore.
"I'm a fine sight, mud up to my knees, my hands full, and I tell you, it isn't just as sweet as it might be," lamented Ralph, as he started to scrape himself off with a splinter.
"Hold on, we'll play valet to you. Take that leg, while I manage this one, Frank," observed Bones, who was really enjoying seeing some other fellow in the same mussy condition that had been his lot more than once.
They scraped so well that presently Ralph declared he felt quite presentable once more.
"But I'll make sure to let nobody see me in this condition," he added; "and this pair of trousers will have to go to the cleaner's Monday morning, you bet."
"Well, are we off now?" asked Frank, as he started to make sure that the fire was extinguished to the last spark.
"That's the ticket, Frank," observed Bones, approvingly, "I like a fire all right, but hate to see it burning up a marsh or a woods. Had one little experience that I aint going to forget in a hurry. I guess she'll do now. Let's shoulder our game and make tracks for the farmhouse. Supper will be ready, I suppose."
"Supper?" echoed Ralph.
"Why, sure. You didn't suppose I meant that we'd go hungry when I invited you to come up here for a little relaxation, after our big strain this morning? Benson promised to have something for us. They're only plain country folks, you know, so don't expect much style, fellows."
"Style!" exclaimed Ralph, with a snort, "do I look like I could put on a heap, with these mussed-up trousers? All I ask is a chance to wash my hands and face. But it was mighty good of you thinking of the grub part, Bones."
"I don't see how. I always eat with Benson when I come up here for a shoot. It was only a case of selfishness. Say, this is something of a load—four apiece all around, and they're heavy chaps, too. This one is so fat he actually burst when he fell."
"But I have no use of any game. Perhaps you'd better give the farmer my share, for his kindness," suggested Ralph.
"That's nice of you, old fellow. And I'll take you up on it, too. Benson has no time to shoot, and I don't believe he knows how; but all the same he does like a taste of game, to sort of change the bill of fare. Follow me, now, for the house."
Bones led the way, and presently they arrived at the farmhouse, a low-roofed building, where light gleamed cheerily in the small windows. Benson had a wife and several small children. The table was set, country fashion, right at one end of the big kitchen, and the odors that greeted the hungry and cold boys as they entered certainly promised an appetizing repast.
Ralph was soon made happy with a tin basin and a bucket of water. He managed to repair damages pretty well, and was only too willing to respond to the farmer's hearty invitation to take a chair and "set-to."
Perhaps it was their sharp-set appetites that made them think the food tasted unusually fine. No matter, there was a great abundance, and by the time they got up from the table every fellow declared he could not eat another mouthful if he were paid for it.
"I'll have your rig at the door in short order," declared Benson, as he went out with a lantern.
With a ten-mile drive, and a horse far from fresh, Bones had decided that they would do well to start without any delay. He had tried out his gun, and was satisfied; while on Frank's part, he rejoiced in the fact that he would be away from town while all the glorification was going on.
"Hold on, Mr. Benson, that's enough. Eight is all we want to take back with us. Ralph here is boarding and has no use for his share. So he asks you to accept it," called out Bones, as the farmer started to toss the game in the back part of the doctor's buggy. "That's kind o' him, and I'm sure much obliged. We don't get any too much game up here, close as we are to the marsh. I'm too busy, you see, and then besides, I never was a great hand to shoot. In summer I pull in quite some fish at odd times, and that's all the sport I take."
It was about eight o'clock when they finally left the farmhouse. The good wife and the three children called out good-bye, as Bones chucked to the horse, and they were off.
"It won't be so awful dark on the road, for there's a half moon peeping out up yonder behind those clouds," said Frank.
"Glad of that," returned Bones, who was doing the driving, "because you see, the road is pretty rough till we get on the main one, and if it was pitch dark we might stand for getting tumbled into a ditch alongside. There are same nasty places I've got to look out for. I know them pretty well though; ought to, for I've been in two of 'em."
"We'll help you look out then. I wouldn't hanker after a tumble into a muddy ditch just now," laughed Frank.
"Think of me, fellows! Why, my lower extremities are still damp from one trip. That was bad enough, but think of going in head first! Ugh! excuse me, if you please!" groaned Ralph.
They made out to get along with little or no trouble. The horse kept the middle of the road as a rule, and three pair of keen eyes were quite enough to pilot the vehicle along toward the junction of the two thoroughfares.
When the firmer road was reached Bones declared he was glad.
"Now we needn't worry, boys. Get-up, Strawberry; it's home for you and another measure of oats. I had the farmer give him only a small quantity. Keep a horse a bit hungry if you want him to hustle for home," he remarked.
"Sounds reasonable at any rate, Bones. And Strawberry is doing pretty good hustling right now, considering the heavy condition of our weight, in the way of game. My folks will think I'm something on the shoot, I guess," remarked Frank, humorously.
"You really got seven—" began Ralph, when his friend interrupted.
"Never mind about that. One fellow is always lucky above the rest. Never knew it to fail. To-day it might be me, to-morrow you. So it goes. Forget it, both of you."
Ralph said nothing more. He knew the nature of his chum, and that Frank had not a selfish bone in his body. If there was any sport going around he wanted every one to have their full share of it, nor could he rest happy unless this were so.
They had passed over several miles of the main road, and all of them were somehow feeling a bit drowsy from their unusual exertions of the day, when, without warning, the horse snorted and came to a full stop.
"What's this mean?" demanded Bones, in astonishment.
"There's something on the road ahead of us," declared Ralph, bending forward in order to see the better, for the shadows fell across the tree-bordered pike.
"I'm not sure," ventured Frank, "but it seems like some sort of vehicle to me. Perhaps there's been an accident. Wait while I jump out and go to see!"
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