For a few moments the three chums remained staring at each other. The news of Frank's disappearance came as a shock to Bart and Ned, just as it had to Fenn. And Fenn's last words set the others to thinking.
"What do you mean?" asked Ned.
"I mean that Frank's not himself lately," Fenn went on. "You must have noticed it as well as I."
"You're right," came from Bart. "There is something very strange about Frank, and I can't understand it. The more we talk about it the worse it seems."
"Unless—" began Fenn.
"Unless what?"
"Boys, I hate to mention it," said Fenn, with a strange air, and he looked all around as though he feared someone would hear him, "but I'm afraid Frank's mind is affected!"
"Do you mean he's crazy?" asked Bart, suddenly.
"No; not exactly that. But I think he has some secret trouble, and that he has worried over it so much he isn't quite himself. Don't you remember how interested he was in the King of Paprica," went on Fenn, referring to the incidents told of in the first volume of this series. "He thought the man was crazy, and he said he had been reading up a lot about insanity. I thought then maybe he had had some trouble in his family, and that might account for his not wanting us to seek to solve the mystery of the curious men."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Ned. "Frank crazy? Why, he's no more crazy than I am!"
"I don't say he's crazy," Fenn went on, "but you must admit it looks queer the way he's been acting lately, and think of his escape through the rear of the tent. What did he want to run away for?"
"It certainly is odd," Bart admitted, "but I don't believe Frank's mind is affected. I think he has some secret which is worrying him, and, in time, he'll tell us all about it. Until then we can only wait."
"What had we better do now?" asked Fenn.
"Do? Why, nothing," answered Bart.
"When Frank gets ready he'll come back. Until then there's nothing to do."
The three chums talked over the matter from various sides. They agreed it would be better not to say anything to their comrade when he got back, as it might embarrass him to be questioned. As the afternoon waned away Fenn prepared to get supper, cooking some of the fish Bart and Ned had caught.
"Shall we eat, or wait until Frank gets back?" asked Fenn, as he noticed it was six o'clock.
"Let's eat," suggested Ned. "He wouldn't want us to wait."
The meal was not a very pleasant one, for, in spite of the assurances of Ned and Bart, to the effect that Frank was all right, and would soon rejoin them, all three felt a vague uneasiness they could not explain.
"Maybe he has lost his way," remarked Fenn, when it began to get dusk, and there was no sign of the missing boy.
"That's so," admitted Bart, more quickly than Fenn had supposed he would. "We'll take our guns and fire a few shots to give him the right direction toward camp. Come on."
Ned and Fenn got their weapons in a hurry. To do something was much better than to sit still and wait for something to happen. They put some logs on the campfire, more for cheerfulness than because it was cool, though it was a bit chilly in the woods after dark. Then they moved off from the tent, each one in a different direction, and began firing their guns. They stood, as it were, on the three points of a triangle, so that if Frank heard the shooting and came toward either angle he would strike camp.
But after half an hour of firing, at five-minute intervals, Bart suggested they wait a bit before shooting any more. It was now quite dark.
"If he's within a mile or two he's heard the guns," Bart said, "and he can find his way here easily enough. If he was so far off he couldn't hear them, we'd better wait until he wanders nearer before we fire any more."
"Do you think he's lost in the woods?" asked Fenn.
"I don't know what to think, Stumpy," replied Bart, who seemed to have taken charge of things. "It's rather funny, I must admit."
They waited about an hour and then began firing again. Between the shots they listened for a hail, but none came.
"If he heard us he'd fire an answering shot," remarked Ned, when, for a time, they had again desisted from their signaling.
"He couldn't," Fenn answered. "He left his gun in the tent."
"That's queer," Bart spoke. "If he knew he would be away after dark I'm sure he'd have taken his gun, though there's nothing worse than skunks in these woods."
"We'll fire some more, in about an hour," said Ned. "Then, if he doesn't come, we'll have to wait until morning and make a search. It's mighty strange, that's what it is."
"Probably he'll laugh at us for being worried," suggested Bart, with an attempt at a laugh that was rather mirthless. "Maybe he's night-fishing, or something like that."
"He didn't take any tackle with him," said Fenn. "All his things are in the tent. He just slipped out without a thing with him except his pocket knife."
Bart himself had not believed the suggestion about night-fishing, but he did not know what other explanation to make of Frank's absence.
Once more, toward midnight, the boys fired other signaling shots, but without avail. Then, with hopelessness, and something very much like fear in their hearts, they went back to the tent.
"We'll go to sleep, and make a good search in the morning," said Bart. "Why this is nothing after all. We've been in worse situations than this, a good deal worse. Look at the time we were hunting for Ned."
"But I was in a big city and Frank is in the big woods," put in Ned.
"I don't know but what the woods are safer than the city," observed Fenn.
The boys did not sleep much. They tried to, but every now and then one of them would awaken and, sitting up on his cot, would listen intently. He thought he had heard someone approaching through the bushes, but each time it was a false alarm. The fire was kept going brightly, in the hope Frank might happen to see it from a distance.
Morning came at last, and, with the first pale streaks of dawn filtering through the trees, the boys were up. They made a hasty breakfast, and then, taking their guns, and putting up a light lunch, they started off to search for Frank.
"Which way had we better go?" asked Fenn. "Shall we try separate ways, or all keep together?"
"Better keep together," replied Bart. "We have a compass, and can find our way back, but if we straggle off alone some of us may get lost, and none of us knows these woods well enough to chance that."
"But which way are we to go?" asked Ned. "There's no such thing as finding Frank's trail in these woods."
"I have it!" cried Fenn.
"What do you mean?"
"The telephone line! You remember how interested Frank was in that! Well, maybe he's following it up. Let's find that and maybe we'll find Frank!"
"Go ahead! It's a good suggestion!" exclaimed Bart.
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