Jack Ranger's Gun Club: or, From Schoolroom to Camp and Trail

“‘The other day, to my surprise, he disappeared from my home, and I have not been able to get a trace of him. I am forced to come to the conclusion that he has run away in a fit of anger, because I would not let him go camping with you. I hold you partly to blame for this, as it was wrong of you to ask him to go. I must therefore ask you, in case you see him, to at once compel him to return to me. I absolutely forbid him to go camping with you, and should he join you, you must send him back. He has defied me, and must be punished. If you see him, turn him over to the nearest police officer, inform me, and I will come and get him.’”

“Well, wouldn’t that loosen your liver pin!” exclaimed Nat. “Do you s’pose he’s coming here, Jack?”

“I don’t know. I’m glad he ran away from such a mean man as Mr. Gabel, though. The idea of not letting him go camping! It’s a shame!”

“Will you make him go back if he does come?”

“Will I? Not much! I’ll take him camping.”

“That’s the stuff!” cried Nat. “Gollywoggled gimlet giblets! but some persons can be mean when they try real hard! I wonder if he will come here?”

“It’s hard to say,” replied Jack. “He showed spunk, though, in running away, and I guess he couldn’t have taken any money with him, either, for his guardian never let him have any. Well, if he comes I’ll look out for him, and I’ll not hand him over to a policeman, either.”

“Say,” called a voice from the other side of the street. “Bettergome, Jack.”

“Better go home – what for, Budge?” asked Jack as he saw the queer, gum-loving lad coming toward him.

“Some of your camping stuff arrived, and your aunts don’t know where to put it. It’s all over the parlor floor,” explained Budge, taking his gum out of his mouth in order to speak more plainly.

“I hope it’s my new gun!” exclaimed Jack. “Come on, Nat, let’s hurry. Did they send you after me, Budge?” for the assistant janitor used to do chores for Jack’s aunts, and was constantly around the house.

“’Swat,” replied Budge, that being his gum version of “That’s what.”

Jack and Nat hurried to the former’s house. They found several packages strewn about the parlor, while Jack’s three maiden aunts were sitting in chairs, staring helplessly at the accumulation of stuff.

“Oh, Jack!” exclaimed Aunt Angelina. “Whatever is in all those packages? The man who brought them told us to be careful, as one was marked firearms.”

“That’s all right,” said Jack easily. “It’s only some guns and cartridges I expect, Aunt Angelina.”

“But – but suppose it should blow up the place, Jack dear?” asked Aunt Mary.

“Yes, and break my best set of china,” added Aunt Josephine. “Oh, Jack, take them away, please!”

“All right,” exclaimed Jack. “I’ll give you a correct imitation of Marinello Booghoobally, alias Hemp Smith, making things disappear. Catch hold, Nat, and we’ll take them out to our private office,” and with his chum’s aid Jack had soon removed the offending packages to a loft over the barn, which he had fitted up as a sort of clubroom.

“Now, Jack, be careful,” cautioned Mr. Ranger as he saw his son busily engaged. “You know the danger of firearms.”

“Sure, dad. Say, I wish you were going hunting with us. Why can’t you?”

“I had enough of the West,” remarked Mr. Ranger, as he thought of his enforced stay there for many years. “I’m not going back. You brought me home, Jack, and I’m going to stay East. But I hope you have a good time.”

“I guess we will, if Jack has anything to do with it,” remarked Nat. “Say, Jack, that’s a dandy gun.”

“Pretty fair,” observed our hero, as he brought to view a fine new rifle, which he had sent for.

There was also a shotgun in the outfit, and many other things to be used on the trail and in camp. Nat’s eyes showed his admiration.

“Jumping jillflowers!” he exclaimed, “but you are certainly doing this up good and brown, Jack.”

“Yes, I don’t like anything half done. It’s bad for the digestion. You’ve got a gun, haven’t you?”

“Oh, yes, a pretty fair one. But I wish I had one like yours.”

“You can use it whenever you want to,” was Jack’s generous offer. “Budge hasn’t any, and I’m going to let him take my old rifle, though I expect he’ll get the lock all stuck up with gum, so it won’t shoot.”

“I’m glad Budge is going. He’ll keep things lively.”

“Yes, and I’m sorry Bill Williams can’t go. I s’pose I’ve got to write to his guardian, and tell him I haven’t seen Bill. Well, we’re almost ready. I guess we can start in about three days.”

“When will Sam and Bony arrive?”

“I expect them to-morrow. Then we’ll make for the West, for the mountains, the bad lands, the desert, and the home of big game! Whoop! La-la! Hold me down, Nat! I’m feeling fine!”

Jack began dancing about the loft, and the loose boards of the floor made such a racket as he leaped about, pulling Nat this way and that in his enthusiasm, that Budge, who was cleaning out the stable, called up from below:

“’Sanythingwrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong, you old gum-masticating specimen of a big-horn sheep,” replied Nat. “We’re just working off some steam, that’s all.”

“Better send it back to Washington Hall,” advised Budge. “They need it there.”

“That’s right,” laughed Jack.

Sam Chalmers and Bony Balmore arrived the next day, and were entertained at Jack’s house. Preparations were rushed, Nat and Budge finishing their packing, and two days later, with their guns, their camping outfits, and their baggage, they stood in the railroad station, ready to start for the West.

It was a fine, clear, crisp November day, all traces of the recent storm having disappeared, and it seemed as if winter, having sent on an advance agent, rather repented of opening the season so early.

“It will be fine hunting weather,” said Jack as he and his chums waited for the train.

“Couldn’t be better,” agreed Nat.

At that moment the agent came hurrying from the depot, holding aloft an envelope.

“Here’s a telegram for you, Jack Ranger,” he said as he handed it over. “It just came.”

“A telegram?” mused Jack. “I wonder who it’s from?”

He tore open the envelope, and as he read the message he gave a start.

CHAPTER XIV

THE BROKEN TRAIN

“What is it?” asked Nat. “Any bad news? Can’t you go camping?”

“It’s a message from Mr. Gabel, Bill Williams’ guardian,” replied Jack. “He says he has a clue that Bill has gone out to a settlement on the Big Horn River, in Montana, and he wants me to tell him to go back to Hickville at once if I see him.”

“But you’re not likely to, are you? Is the Big Horn River near where we are going?” asked Bony.