# Ned Wilding's Disappearance/Chapter 2

CHAPTER II
PREPARING FOR A HUNT
"What's the matter with my hand?" asked Bart holding the gun in the one that had been injured.
"Why you've taken it from the sling. The blood will rush to it and—and—"
"Oh, I guess it's all right," spoke Bart carelessly, as he held up the gun. "You see fellows, this is the patent ejector, and the barrels—"
"Well of all things!" exclaimed Alice. "I spend a lot of time fixing up your injury and you go and undo all my work in a minute. I never saw such a boy!"
"How did you hurt yourself?" asked Ned.
"I had just loaded both barrels and put the gun on the table. It fell off and something hit one of the triggers or the hammers and it banged out like a cannon. My hand was in the way, that's all."
"Hurt much?" inquired Fenn.
"Not much," was Bart's careless answer.
​But an exclamation of pain escaped him as he hit his bruised fingers against the gun stock.
"There!" exclaimed Alice. "I knew you'd do something wrong. Now I suppose it will start bleeding again," and she turned back as if to undo the bandage.
"Never mind!" spoke Bart quickly. "I'll stick some court plaster on if it does. Say Alice get us some cake and lemonade, please."
Alice agreed and while she prepared the beverage and got some cakes from the pantry, in which interval the four boys talked nothing but gun, there is an opportunity of making you better acquainted with them. It's hard to be introduced to a person when he has sustained a smashed thumb, so it is, perhaps, just as well that the formal presentation was postponed until now.
Bart Keene, Ned Wilding, Frank Roscoe and Fenn Masterson, (who was called Stumpy, for short, because of his rather limited height and breadth of beam), were four boys who lived in the town of Darewell. This was located not far from Lake Erie, on the Still River, a stream in which the boys fished, swam and upon which they spent many hours in their big rowboat.
With the exception of Frank Roscoe, the boys lived in the heart of the town. Their parents ​were fairly well off, and the boys had been chums since they attended primary school together. In fact, when their companionship continued on through the grammar school and into the high school, they became such a town fixture, in a way, that they were known as "The Darewell Chums."
Those of you who have read the first volume of this series, entitled "The Heroes of the School," know what sort of lads the four were. Those of you who are meeting them for the first time may be glad of a little sketch of their characters.
Frank lived with his uncle, Abner Dent, about a mile out of town. Mr. Dent was a rich farmer, and Frank had resided with him as long as he could remember. He could not recall his father or mother, and his uncle seldom mentioned them. Frank was rather a strange sort of boy. His chums were very fond of him, but they could not quite make out the curious air of mystery about him. Frank seemed to have some secret, but his chums never asked him what it was, though of late years his odd ways, at times, had attracted their attention.
Ned Wilding was an impulsive, lively chap, full of fun, and given to playing tricks, which sometimes got him into mischief. He was rather ​thoughtless, but never mean, and when his actions did result in trouble for others Ned was always ready and anxious to make reparation. Ned's mother was dead and he lived with his father who was cashier of the Darewell bank.
As for Bart, he was so fond of sports, from baseball and swimming to snowballing and skating, that he was seldom still long enough to study his lessons.
Fenn, or Stumpy Masterson, had only one failing as far as his chums were concerned. He was "sweet" on the girls, as they called it. Fenn would go to considerable trouble to walk home with a girl. His chums made all sorts of fun of him, but he did not seem to mind much. His especial favorite was Jennie Smith, who was quite fond of poetry and who liked to recite and act.
As told in the first volume, the boys, during the summer preceding the winter in which this story opens, had taken part in some strange adventures. They discovered that some men in the neighborhood of the town were acting very queerly, and they resolved to find what it meant. One day they went up in a captive balloon at a fair, and the restraining cable broke. The four chums were carried off in the airship high above the clouds.
The boys were detained as prisoners aboard a ​barge on the river, because it was learned they knew something of the mystery the strangely acting men were trying to keep hidden. By dint of much pluck and hard work the boys managed to solve the affair, and, in order to avoid a law-suit, the men involved offered the boys one thousand dollars each, in valuable oil stock. This they accepted and their parents and relatives did not prosecute the men, as they originally intended, for detaining the boys on the barge.
"Here's the lemonade!" cried Ned, as Alice came in with a big pitcherful while the chums were examining Bart's gun. He took it from the girl, as it was quite heavy.
"Now I'll get the cakes and glasses," Alice said.
"Let me help you," begged Fenn.
"Here, you quit that!" called Ned.
"Quit what?"
"Walking downstairs with Alice. I'll tell Jennie on you, Stumpy!"
"Oh, you dry up!" cried Fenn, and, despite the boys' laughter Fenn accompanied Bart's sister to the next floor, where he got the cake and glasses.
"Stumpy's as bad as ever," commented Frank. "He reminds me of—" Frank did not finish his sentence.
​"Reminds you of what?" asked Ned. "There you go again, beginning a thing and not finishing it."
"I guess I'll not say it. Doesn't make any difference," and Frank turned aside and gazed out of the window.
Bart and Ned looked at each other. It was a peculiarity of Frank's to begin to say something, and then seem to recollect a matter that made him change his mind. But his chums were now used to his strangeness.
"Where'd you get that gun, Bart?" asked Fenn as he came in with the cake.
"Saw it advertised in a catalog, and sent to New York for it."
"How much?"
"Eighteen dollars. It was the first money I used of the thousand I got from the "King of Paprica"—for such was the assumed name of the principal man in the mystery the boys had cleared up.
"From New York, eh?" spoke Ned. "That reminds me I have an invitation to visit my uncle and aunt there."
"That's so. You asked us to come and see you," added Bart. "Wish we could go around Christmas time."
​"If the holiday vacation was longer maybe we could," remarked Ned.
"Speaking of holidays, what's the matter with going hunting the end of next week?" asked Bart. "I've got my gun, and you fellows have your small rifles."
"I can borrow a shotgun," put in Fenn.
"This is Thursday," went on Bart. "School closes to-morrow for the Thanksgiving celebration. Let's see, Thanksgiving is a week from today. That would give us three days counting Monday, when we can start off. Why not go on a shooting trip and stay a couple of nights in the woods? It's not very cold, and we could take plenty of blankets."
"The very thing!" cried Ned.