# Fairview Boys at Camp Mystery/Chapter 8

CHAPTER VIII
THE OLD MANSION
Sammy Brown and his chums looked queerly at one another. Then they glanced at Mr. Jessup. He smiled as he peered at them from under his shaggy eyebrows.
"Camp Mystery, did you say?" asked Sammy, wonderingly.
"That's what I said," was the answer. "But don't get frightened, I don't believe the mystery will hurt you."
"Is there really a mystery?" asked Sammy, eagerly. "Is there a—a ghost—or something like that?"
Mr. Jessup laughed heartily.
"No need to ask your name," he chuckled. "You're Sammy Brown? My sister told me all about you."
Sammy blushed.
"Well—er—well," he stammered, "I only thought——"
"No harm done at all! " went on the hunter, still laughing. "My sister said one of you boys was always on the lookout for something strange, like buried treasure, or a lost diamond mine. Well, we haven't got either of those things on this end of Pine Island, whatever they may have down below. But that's how I guessed your name, Sammy.
"And now let me see, you ought to be Bob Bouncer, by rights," and he looked at Bob with his head on one side. "How about it?"
"That's my name," admitted the owner of it.
​"I thought so. Then of course, as you're the only one left," he said to Frank, "you're Mr. Haven's son."
"How did you guess my name?" asked Bob.
"Oh, my sister said Bob was the one with a twinkle in his eye that meant mischief. You've got it, so you're him. I hope you don't cut-up too much. I don't mind sitting down on a pin once in a while, but I don't like to find mud turtles in my bed——"
"I don't do any of those things!" cried Bob, in confusion.
"No, I s'pose you don't, but it's just as well to warn you," and by the merry twinkle in Mr. Jessup's eyes the boys knew he was only joking.
"Now then," he went on "forward for Camp Mystery! Got all your luggage?"
"All we need, I guess," answered Sammy. Each of the boys had a good-sized valise. "But what makes you call your place Camp Mystery?" asked the lad. "Your sister didn't say anything about that."
"No, for it's only lately that I've had occasion to call it that. You see——"
But Mr. Jessup was interrupted by a crashing sound in the underbrush at one side of the path, and from the bushes there was shaken down a shower of the light snow that had fallen the night before.
"Look out!" cried Frank, starting back.
"Maybe it's him!" added Bob.
"Don't run!" advised Sammy.
Mr. Jessup stared in surprise at the three lads, but before he could ask them the reason for their strange remarks there burst out from the bushes a fine hunting dog, who ran straight for the man, wagging his tail in delight.
"Oh, so there you are, Maybe!" exclaimed Mr. Jessup. "I was just wondering what had become of you."
​"Is that your dog?" asked Sammy.
"Did he make that noise?" inquired Frank.
"Yes. What did you think it was—a ghost?" Mr. Jessup wanted to know. Once more he looked strangely at the boys.
"We—we thought," began Bob, and then he glanced at Sammy, as if asking him to explain the thoughts of his chums.
"Oh, you thought maybe it was the mystery; is that it?" Mr. Jessup wanted to know. "No, it isn't that. The mystery, if that's what I am to call it, doesn't make that much noise. It's a very quiet sort of a mystery; the one in my camp."
The boys were puzzled. Clearly there was more than one queer thing, to be gotten to the bottom of, on Pine Island.
The dog was frisking about, soon making friends with the boys.
"Quiet now, Maybe," cautioned the hunter. "We can't scare up anything to-day. Down, sir!"
"Is—is his name Maybe?" asked Bob, thinking there might be a joke attached to the animal's title.
"It is," said Mr. Jessup. "You see I call him Maybe because when we go out hunting—he and I—maybe we'll have luck, and—maybe we won't. It's been mostly not, of late, though maybe my luck will change, now that you boys have come.
"But come. Tell me what you thought it was when you heard the dog make a noise in the bushes."
"And then will you tell us what the mystery is?" asked Sammy.
"Of course. I'll tell you first, if you like. To be brief I've been missing things from my camp—food mostly, though the other night one of my best blankets was taken. And the funny part of it is that I can't get a trace of the thief. Things disappear when I'm away from camp, and sometimes when I'm asleep. It's all quite strange, so that's why I call this Camp ​Mystery. I wish I could find out who is at the bottom of it."
Sammy was eager to relate his story now.
"Perhaps we can tell you!" he eagerly exclaimed, when Mr. Jessup nodded to show that he had finished. "It must be the hermit who's taking your things."
If he and his chums expected Mr. Jessup to show surprise at the mention of the hermit they were disappointed. Mr. Jessup only shook his head.
"So you've seen him, too," he murmured. "He's showing himself more often of late. I hope he doesn't get into trouble."
"Who?" asked Frank.
"The hermit."
"Oh, then you know him?" asked Sammy. His expected surprise had amounted to nothing. He was rather disappointed.
"Oh, yes, I know him," admitted the hunter, "but that isn't saying I know what he's up to. That part is queer, I admit."
"Who is he?" asked Sammy, and he briefly told how they had encountered the strange old man, with his white hair and beard.
"Well, his name is Franklin Addison," answered Mr. Jessup, "and he has been here for some time. Just when he came I don't remember, but I know I ran across him one day, and he ordered me off the island. Of course I didn't go, owning considerable land here. So I stood my ground, and explained matters.
"Then Mr. Addison grew more reasonable. He told me he had come to live here to be away from the world, and he showed me a little hut he had made for himself, on a small piece of land he said was his. A poor enough place it is, but he seems to like it. Since then, though we haven't met often, we have been better friends. I let him alone, and he lets me alone. He lives about a mile from here, in a lonesome place.
​"What he is doing here I can't make out. Maybe he's here for his health. There are some folks, you know, who believe in getting off alone like that, and living as much out of doors as they can."
"I thought maybe he was the mystery," explained Sammy, "and that he had been taking your things."
"No," answered the hunter, "Mr. Addison wouldn't do a thing like that. He has often asked me for food, and I have given it to him. Then again he has given me money to buy things for him when I go to the mainland. He isn't the thief, I'm sure."
"Maybe it's a bear—or some wild animal," suggested Bob.
"I wish it was!" exclaimed the hunter. "If it was maybe we could get it—Maybe and I. But there are no animal tracks, and anyhow the biggest beasts here on Pine Island now are foxes. No you'll have to guess again, boys."
"Well, it will give us something to look up," said Sammy. "We can solve that mystery, and the one about the hermit, too."
He was quite delighted over the prospect, as his chums could easily tell by the light in his eyes. Give Sammy a mystery, or put him on the trail of buried treasure, be it ever so small, and he was happy.
"Well, come on to Camp Mystery," suggested Mr. Jessup. "You must be hungry—I know I am."
With Maybe, the dog, running on ahead, and the hunter and the boys bringing up in the rear, the little procession started off along the snowy trail.
They went on for perhaps a mile, when, through the trees, the boys caught sight of a large house—a mansion in size.
"Is that your cabin?" asked Sammy. "It's big!"
"Is that your cabin?" asked Sammy.
​sort of hotel, or boarding house, but it hasn't been used as such in a good many years. It didn't pay.
"I'm a sort of care-taker of it, and I have one or two rooms fitted up that I use when my shack gets filled. But the rest of the place is deserted, except for the bats and rats."
The boys came to a stop in front of the old house. It was bare and gaunt, and looked lonesome. On most of the windows the sagging shutters flapped dismally. Somehow there seemed an air of mystery about the place. Sammy Brown's spirits rose.
"Fellows!" he cried, "maybe the mystery is in here!"