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Beginning Ethical Hacking with Python 1st Edition Sanjib Sinha download

The document provides information on the book 'Beginning Ethical Hacking with Python' by Sanjib Sinha, including details on its content, structure, and various chapters covering ethical hacking concepts and Python programming. It includes links to download the book and other related resources. The book is intended for readers interested in learning ethical hacking techniques using Python.

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0% found this document useful (0 votes)
3 views

Beginning Ethical Hacking with Python 1st Edition Sanjib Sinha download

The document provides information on the book 'Beginning Ethical Hacking with Python' by Sanjib Sinha, including details on its content, structure, and various chapters covering ethical hacking concepts and Python programming. It includes links to download the book and other related resources. The book is intended for readers interested in learning ethical hacking techniques using Python.

Uploaded by

sabarqhayfa0x
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
Available Formats
Download as PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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Beginning
Ethical Hacking
with Python

Sanjib Sinha

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Beginning Ethical
Hacking with Python

Sanjib Sinha

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Beginning Ethical Hacking with Python
Sanjib Sinha
Howrah, West Bengal, India
ISBN-13 (pbk): 978-1-4842-2540-0 ISBN-13 (electronic): 978-1-4842-2541-7
DOI 10.1007/978-1-4842-2541-7
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016963222
Copyright © 2017 by Sanjib Sinha
This work is subject to copyright. All rights are reserved by the Publisher, whether the whole
or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of
illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical
way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer
software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed.
Trademarked names, logos, and images may appear in this book. Rather than use a trademark
symbol with every occurrence of a trademarked name, logo, or image we use the names, logos,
and images only in an editorial fashion and to the benefit of the trademark owner, with no
intention of infringement of the trademark.
The use in this publication of trade names, trademarks, service marks, and similar terms, even
if they are not identified as such, is not to be taken as an expression of opinion as to whether or
not they are subject to proprietary rights.
While the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the
date of publication, neither the authors nor the editors nor the publisher can accept any legal
responsibility for any errors or omissions that may be made. The publisher makes no warranty,
express or implied, with respect to the material contained herein.
Managing Director: Welmoed Spahr
Lead Editor: Nikhil Karkal
Technical Reviewer: Abir Ranjan Atarthy
Editorial Board: Steve Anglin, Pramila Balan, Laura Berendson, Aaron Black,
Louise Corrigan, Jonathan Gennick, Robert Hutchinson, Celestin Suresh John,
Nikhil Karkal, James Markham, Susan McDermott, Matthew Moodie, Natalie Pao,
Gwenan Spearing
Coordinating Editor: Prachi Mehta
Copy Editor: Larissa Shmailo
Compositor: SPi Global
Indexer: SPi Global
Artist: SPi Global
Distributed to the book trade worldwide by Springer Science+Business Media New York,
233 Spring Street, 6th Floor, New York, NY 10013. Phone 1-800-SPRINGER, fax (201) 348-4505,
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Printed on acid-free paper

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DR. AVIJIT SEN, DRISTIPRADIP, KOLKATA.
(For Bringing Light into Darkness)

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Contents at a Glance

About the Author������������������������������������������������������������������������������ xi


About the Technical Reviewer�������������������������������������������������������� xiii
Acknowledgments��������������������������������������������������������������������������� xv
Prologue – Hacker’s Goal��������������������������������������������������������������� xvii


■Part I������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 1

■Chapter 1: Legal Side of Hacking��������������������������������������������������� 3

■Chapter 2: Hacking Environment���������������������������������������������������� 5

■Chapter 3: Installing Virtual Box���������������������������������������������������� 9
■■Chapter 4: Installing Kali Linux and
Other Operating Systems on VB��������������������������������������������������� 13

■Chapter 5: Linux Terminal, Basic Commands������������������������������� 21


■Part II���������������������������������������������������������������������������� 35

■Chapter 6: Python 3 and Ethical Hacking������������������������������������� 37

■Chapter 7: Python Environment���������������������������������������������������� 39

■Chapter 8: General Syntaxes�������������������������������������������������������� 43

■Chapter 9: Variables, Objects and Values������������������������������������� 49

■Chapter 10: Conditionals�������������������������������������������������������������� 67

■Chapter 11: Loops������������������������������������������������������������������������� 69

■Chapter 12: Regular Expressions ������������������������������������������������ 75

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■ Contents at a Glance


■Chapter 13: Exceptions, Catching Errors�������������������������������������� 81

■Chapter 14: Functions������������������������������������������������������������������ 85

■Chapter 15: Classes���������������������������������������������������������������������� 97

■Chapter 16: String Methods�������������������������������������������������������� 121

■Chapter 17: File Input And Output���������������������������������������������� 127

■Chapter 18: Containers��������������������������������������������������������������� 129

■Chapter 19: Database����������������������������������������������������������������� 137

■Chapter 20: Module�������������������������������������������������������������������� 149

■Chapter 21: Debugging, Unittest Module������������������������������������ 153

■Chapter 22: Socket and Networking������������������������������������������� 157

■Chapter 23: Importing Nmap Module����������������������������������������� 159

■Chapter 24: Building an Nmap Network Scanner����������������������� 165


■Part III������������������������������������������������������������������������� 169

■Chapter 25: Protect Anonymity on the Internet�������������������������� 171

■Chapter 26: Dark Web and Tor���������������������������������������������������� 173

■Chapter 27: Proxy Chains����������������������������������������������������������� 179

■Chapter 28: Virtual Private Network or VPN������������������������������� 185

■Chapter 29: MAC Address����������������������������������������������������������� 191

■Epilogue—What Next������������������������������������������������������������������ 195

Index���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 197

vi

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Contents

About the Author������������������������������������������������������������������������������ xi


About the Technical Reviewer�������������������������������������������������������� xiii
Acknowledgments��������������������������������������������������������������������������� xv
Prologue – Hacker’s Goal��������������������������������������������������������������� xvii


■Part I������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 1

■Chapter 1: Legal Side of Hacking��������������������������������������������������� 3

■Chapter 2: Hacking Environment���������������������������������������������������� 5
Ethical Hacking and Networking������������������������������������������������������������� 6
What Does Network Mean?��������������������������������������������������������������������� 6
Summary������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 8

■Chapter 3: Installing Virtual Box���������������������������������������������������� 9
■■Chapter 4: Installing Kali Linux and
Other Operating Systems on VB��������������������������������������������������� 13

■Chapter 5: Linux Terminal, Basic Commands������������������������������� 21
Summary����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 33


■Part II���������������������������������������������������������������������������� 35

■Chapter 6: Python 3 and Ethical Hacking������������������������������������� 37

■Chapter 7: Python Environment���������������������������������������������������� 39

vii

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■ Contents


■Chapter 8: General Syntaxes�������������������������������������������������������� 43
Create the main( ) function ������������������������������������������������������������������� 43
Indentation and White Space���������������������������������������������������������������� 44
Commenting������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 46
Assigning Values����������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 47

■Chapter 9: Variables, Objects and Values������������������������������������� 49
Using Numbers�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 52
String����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 54
What is Type and ID������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 56
Logical Values��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 59
Tuples And Lists.����������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 60
Dictionary���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 63
Object���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 64

■Chapter 10: Conditionals�������������������������������������������������������������� 67

■Chapter 11: Loops������������������������������������������������������������������������� 69
While Loops������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 69
For Loops����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 71

■Chapter 12: Regular Expressions ������������������������������������������������ 75
Using “re” Module��������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 75
Reusing With Regular Expressions�������������������������������������������������������� 77
Searching with Regular Expressions����������������������������������������������������� 78

■Chapter 13: Exceptions, Catching Errors�������������������������������������� 81

viii

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■ Contents


■Chapter 14: Functions������������������������������������������������������������������ 85
Return Values���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 90
Generate Functions������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 90
Lists of Arguments�������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 93
Named Arguments��������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 94

■Chapter 15: Classes���������������������������������������������������������������������� 97
Object-Oriented Methodology��������������������������������������������������������������� 97
The Foundation of Object Orientation���������������������������������������������������� 97
Understanding Classes and Objects������������������������������������������������������ 98
Write Your Own Game, “Good Vs Bad”������������������������������������������������� 102
Primary Class and Object�������������������������������������������������������������������� 106
Accessing Object Data������������������������������������������������������������������������ 111
Polymorphism������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 114
Using Generators��������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 116
Inheritance������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 117
Decorator��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 119

■Chapter 16: String Methods�������������������������������������������������������� 121

■Chapter 17: File Input And Output���������������������������������������������� 127

■Chapter 18: Containers��������������������������������������������������������������� 129
Operating on Tuple and List Object������������������������������������������������������ 130
Operating on Dictionary Object����������������������������������������������������������� 135

■Chapter 19: Database����������������������������������������������������������������� 137
Let us start with SQLite3.�������������������������������������������������������������������� 137
MySQL for Big Project������������������������������������������������������������������������� 138

ix

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■ Contents


■Chapter 20: Module�������������������������������������������������������������������� 149

■Chapter 21: Debugging, Unittest Module������������������������������������ 153

■Chapter 22: Socket and Networking������������������������������������������� 157

■Chapter 23: Importing Nmap Module����������������������������������������� 159

■Chapter 24: Building an Nmap Network Scanner����������������������� 165


■Part III������������������������������������������������������������������������� 169

■Chapter 25: Protect Anonymity on the Internet�������������������������� 171

■Chapter 26: Dark Web and Tor���������������������������������������������������� 173
Hidden Wikipedia��������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 174

■Chapter 27: Proxy Chains����������������������������������������������������������� 179

■Chapter 28: Virtual Private Network or VPN������������������������������� 185

■Chapter 29: MAC Address����������������������������������������������������������� 191

■Epilogue—What Next������������������������������������������������������������������ 195

Index���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 197

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About the Author

Sanjib Sinha writes stories and codes—not always in the same order.
He started with C# and .NET framework and won a Microsoft Community
Contributor Award in 2011. Later, the Open Source Software movement attracted him and
he became a Linux, PHP, and Python enthusiast, specializing in and working on White
Hat Ethical Hacking.
As a beginner, he had to struggle a lot—always—to find out an easy way to learn
coding. No one told him that coding is like writing: imagining an image and bringing it
down to Earth with the help of words and symbols.
All through his books he has tried to help beginners from their perspective—as a
beginner.

xi
About the Technical
Reviewer

Abir Ranjan Atarthy is a Certified Ethical Hacker from Ec-Council, ISO27001 Auditor and
PCIDSS implementer.
He has more than 12 years of extensive domain experience in driving the
Information & Cyber Security programs in all key aspects i.e. Policy, Standards,
Procedures, Awareness, Network Security, Web security, Android App Security, Incident
Response, Security Analytics, Security Monitoring, Malware protection, Security
configuration, Cryptography, Data Protection Knowledge of most advanced tools in
security industry with complementing knowledge on scripting languages to manually
exploit vulnerabilities.
He has authored several technical articles which have been published in IT security
journals and is frequently invited to speak at many cyber security conferences and
Python forums.
He has designed cyber security courses for Corporates on network and web
penetration testing, forensics, and cryptography.
Abir regularly conducts work-shops, training sessions and certification programs
for corporates, government organizations, defence establishments, security agencies,
engineering colleges and universities on Python programming, penetration testing and
cyber forensics.
He has created several IT security and cryptographic tools using Python.
He has accomplished short term Programs in Object-oriented programming and
Selected Topics in Software Engineering from Indian Institute of Technology -Kharagpur.
Abir is considered a subject-matter expert in cyber security and is often quoted by
leading newspapers and TV channels.
Presently he is leading the Cyber threat intelligence department in TCG Digital
Solutions Pvt. Ltd.

xiii
Acknowledgments

KARTICK PAUL, SYSTEM MANAGER, AAJKAAL, KOLKATA, Without his persistent and
inspiring help, I could not write this book.

xv
Prologue – Hacker’s Goal

This book is intended for complete programming beginners or general people who know
nothing about any programming language but want to learn ethical hacking.
Let us clear it first: Ethical Hacking is not associated with any kind of illegal
electronic activities. They always stay within laws. This book is intended for those people
– young and old – who are creative and curious and who want to develop a creative hobby
or take up internet security profession acting as ethical hacker. Keeping that in mind we’ll
also learn Python 3 programming language to enhance our skill as ethical hackers.
This book is not intended for any kind of malicious user. If anyone tries to use this
book or any type of code examples from this book for illegal purpose this book will take
no moral responsibility for that malicious behaviours.
If you think that you can use this book for any malicious purpose then you are
advised to read the first chapter “Legal Side of Ethical Hacking”. I hope you won’t like the
idea of ending up in jail by harming some other systems.
I would like to start this brief introduction with an image. This image depicts many
things that I will later discuss in detail. It says, “The author is using “Ubuntu” Linux
distribution as his default operating system. He has installed Virtual Box – a kind of
virtual machine – that runs in Windows also. And in that Virtual Box he has installed three
more operating systems. One is “Windows XP” and the other two are “Kali Linux” and
“Windows 7 Ultimate”. The image also says, and that is very important, “Currently three
operating systems are virtually running on the desktop”.

xvii
■ Prologue – Hacker’s Goal

(The virtual Box is running three operating systems. You can try any kind of
experiment on this Virtual OS. That will not damage your main system.)
As an ethical hacker you will learn how to defend yourself. To defend yourself
sometime you need to attack your enemy. But it is a part of your defense system. It is a
part of your defense strategy. More you know about your enemy’s strategy, more you
can defend yourself. You need to learn those tools are frequently used by the malicious
hackers or crackers. They use the same tool that you use to defend yourself.
Whether you are an ethical hacker or a malicious cracker, you do the same thing.
You use the identical software tools to attack the security system. Only your purpose or
intention differs.
Probably you know that a big car company before launching a new model of
car generally tests the locking system. They have their own security engineers and
besides they call for the locking experts to test the vulnerability. They pay a good
amount of money if you can break the locking system of the car. Basically it is a work
of “PENTESTING”. The locking experts PENTESTS the system and see if there is any
weakness in the system.
It is good example of ethical hacking. The locking experts are invited to do the
job and they are paid well. On the contrary car thieves do the same job without any
invitation. They simply break the locking system of an unattended car parked on the road
side and take it away. I hope by now you have understood the difference between ethical
hacking and cracking.

xviii
Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
Tom obeyed, grunting, and the dead trunk was laid at the edge of
the cliff.
“What’s going to keep it from rolling over onto your head?” asked
Tom of Dan.
Dan looked puzzled. So did the others.
“Seems to me,” said Nelson, “we didn’t get this more’n half
planned out.”
“History teaches us,” said Dan, “that even the world’s greatest
generals have been quite frequently ‘up a tree.’”
“Wonder if they were ever up a bluff?” murmured Tom.
“I’ll tell you what,” said Dan, after a moment’s consideration of the
problem, “we’ll have to drive stakes on each side of the log; see?”
“Yes,” Bob answered dryly, “but I don’t see the stakes.”
“That’s easy. Who’s got the biggest knife?”
It appeared that Tom had; so Dan borrowed it, and set to work
cutting down a stout branch and converting it into four stakes some
eighteen inches in length. It took a good while, and the other three
fellows disposed themselves comfortably on the ground and looked
on.
“Wish those Wickasaws had broken their silly necks!” grumbled
Nelson. “We’re going to miss our soak.”
“Maybe we’ll miss our dinner, too,” said Tom.
“Oh, cut it out!” said Bob. “You can eat to-morrow. I don’t see
what you want to eat for, anyhow, fat as you are.”
At last the stakes were done and were driven into the turf at each
side of the log, Tom mashing his finger with the rock which he was
using as a hammer. Then Bob and Tom and Nelson manned the
rope, and Dan wriggled over the edge of the cliff, feet foremost,
keeping a tight hold on the rope. When only his head remained in
sight he winked merrily.
“If I make a mess of it, fellows, kindly see that you find all the
pieces,” he called. “And don’t forget to put on my headstone
‘Requiescat in pieces.’”
Then the flaming red head disappeared, and the fellows let the
rope slip slowly around the tree. It seemed a long while before it
slackened. When Bob got to the edge Dan was scrambling over the
rocks into the bushes. Presently he was back flourishing the brush
and can.
“We don’t need to pull you all the way up again,” shouted Bob.
“We’ll get you up where you are going to paint and then lower the
can down to you. Is that all right?”
“All right,” echoed Dan. Then he stepped onto the seat at the end
of the rope and waved his hand. Bob and Nelson laid back on the
rope, and slowly it began to come up over the log, Tom securing the
slack after each haul with a double turn around the tree. Finally
there came a shout, and, after a glance over the edge, Bob directed
them to make fast, and tied the twine to the can of blue paint and
lowered it. Suddenly there was a yell of dismay and wrath from
below.
“See what’s wrong!” cried Bob.
Nelson crawled to the edge and peered over. Then he crawled
back, and seemed to be having a fit on the turf. Tom looked down,
and then joined Nelson.
Bob stared at them as though they had suddenly gone insane.
“What’s the matter, you idiots?” he cried. But Tom only shrieked the
louder, while Nelson rolled onto his back, held his sides, and kicked
his heels into the turf, gasping. In disgust Bob got cautiously to his
knees, tied the line around a stake, and had a look for himself. Thirty
feet beneath sat Dan on his wooden seat, muttering incoherently
under a baptism of bright blue paint. The can had caught on the
edge of a tiny projecting ledge and had tilted in such a way that a
portion of the contents had slopped over onto Dan’s bare head, and
even yet was still trickling a tiny stream. At first glance, so
thoroughly was Dan’s head and face adorned, it seemed to Bob that
the entire contents of the can must have been emptied. But a
second glance showed him that at least three-fourths of the paint
still remained at the end of the cord. He swung it away so that it no
longer dripped, and hailed Dan.
“What’s the good of wasting the stuff like that, Dan?” he asked
with simulated anger.
Dan raised a strange blue visage from which his eyes peeped
coyly upward. “If you’ll haul me up I’ll lick you within an inch of your
life!” he said solemnly. Then he spat and sputtered and tried to wipe
the sticky fluid from his face with his arm, his hands being already
well covered.
Tom and Nelson, who had managed to creep to the edge for
another look, here retired precipitately so that they might indulge
their mirth where there was no danger of laughing themselves over
the edge.
“Too bad, Dan,” laughed Bob. “Haven’t you got a handkerchief?”
“Handkerchief!” said Dan scornfully. “What good would that be?
What I need is a Turkish bath and a dozen towels. Say, did you do
that on purpose, you—you blamed fool?”
“No, honest, Dan, I didn’t. I didn’t know what was up, until Nelson
was taken with a fit.”
“Fit! I’ll fit him!” said Dan with a grin. “How do I look?”
“Like New Haven after a football victory!”
“Huh! Well, let’s have that stuff and get this fool job done!”
“Sure you don’t want to come up and clean off a bit?”
“I’m not coming up until the thing’s done, I tell you. Lower away
on that paint, only for goodness’ sake be careful!”
“Of course I will! What’s the saying about gilding refined gold and
painting the lily, Dan? There’s no use wasting any more of this
precious stuff on you; you’re complete now. I couldn’t add to your
beauty if I had gallons and gallons here!”
“Shut up!” said Dan cheerfully; “and tell those two other idiots
that if they don’t stop laughing I’ll go up there and paint ’em from
head to feet!”
Here Tom looked over.
“Su-su-say, Dan,” he shouted, “di-di-didn’t you mean ‘Re-re-
requiescat in pu-pu-pu-paint’?”
“Shut up, Tom,” gurgled Nelson, thrusting his blushing
countenance over the edge. “Can’t you see he has enough already
to make him blue?”
But Dan made no answer. He was tracing a monstrous C on the
face of the cliff with a dripping brush.
He was tracing a monstrous C.

“Don’t be too generous with that paint,” cautioned Bob.


“Remember, there isn’t very much left.”
“Guess I know that, don’t I?” asked Dan.
An A and an M followed the C, and then it was necessary to move
the artist along. Nelson had solved the difficulty after a fashion the
preceding afternoon. The second rope was made fast to a tree at
the top and lowered down to Dan. He put his foot in the noose and
swung free of the seat, keeping hold, however, of the rope above it.
Then this was moved at the top and made fast anew. Dan stepped
back on the seat, released the rope with the noose, and went
swinging across the face of the rock like a pendulum. The watchers
held their breaths, but Dan clung fast, and presently the swing came
to a stop and the painting was resumed. Four times more was this
process gone through with to the risking of Dan’s limbs before the
last numeral of “’04” was completed. Then Dan heaved a sigh of
relief, viewed his work approvingly, and trickled what remained of
the paint down the face of the rock in a partly successful endeavor
to obliterate the red lettering below.
“How does it look?” asked Nelson eagerly.
“Swell,” said Dan. “Pull me up.”
They obeyed, and when he crawled over the edge and stood up
they all sat down and howled anew. And Dan, just to be sociable,
sat down and laughed at his plight until the tears came.
“Oh, Dan, if we could only keep you just as you are!” gasped
Nelson, “and use you for a mascot!”
Head and face were as blue as though he had dipped them in the
paint-can; his hands and arms were a lighter shade; the stuff had
trickled down behind one ear and so down his back, and his jersey
was patriotic to a fault.
“What shall I do?” he asked finally. “I can’t go back like this.”
“We’ll land you just across from the village,” said Nelson, “and you
can sneak back to camp through the woods. No one will see you,
because the crowd will be having soak. Get a lot of kerosene and
take a bath in it.”
The plan was the best they could think of, and so it was carried
out. The ropes and the rest of the paraphernalia they hid in the
woods, and then they got down the hill as fast as their legs would
carry them. Going through the village, Dan created quite a little
interest, although he modestly strove to avoid notice. They put him
ashore a quarter of a mile from camp, and when last seen he was
stalking through the trees like an Indian in war-paint. The others got
back to the landing in time to hurry into their bathing-trunks and get
a few plunges before the signal “All out!” was given. They were very
reticent as to what they had been doing, but somehow the secret
was all over camp by dinner-time, and the fellows spent the most of
the afternoon rowing to and fro across the lake to the point of
Black’s Neck, from where an excellent view of the cliff was
obtainable. And what they saw pleased them immeasurably. Dan had
fairly beaten the Wickasaws at their own game. He had painted his
legend in letters fully three feet high at least fifteen feet above
theirs, and there could be no comparison either in artistic effect or
publicity. Camp Chicora hugged itself in gleeful triumph.
Just before supper Dan ran across Mr. Verder.
“Why, Speede,” asked the latter, stopping him, “aren’t you feeling
well?”
“Me, sir? Oh, I’m all right,” answered Dan uneasily, eager to pass
on.
“Sure?” asked the councilor. “You look—er—kind of blue and
unhealthy.” And Dan thought he heard a chuckle as he hurried away.
CHAPTER VIII
TELLS HOW TOM WAS VISITED BY AUNT
LOUISA—AND SOME OTHERS

aturdays at Chicora were by way of being fête-days.


Relatives and friends were given the freedom of the
camp, and the visitors’ table in the dining-hall was
usually full. Frequently the father of one of the boys
stayed over until Monday morning, sleeping in one of the dormitories
and getting a genuine taste of camp life. On the day following the
adventure at the cliff the visitors began to reach camp early, and
among the first to put in an appearance was Tom’s Aunt Louisa,
from Boston. Her arrival was so unexpected, and Tom became so
excited over it, that he started at the landing to tell her how glad to
see her he was and only finished at the flag-pole, having been set
back twice in his stuttering by stubbing his toe on the way up. With
parents and friends appeared simultaneously baskets and boxes of
fruit, candy, and cake. Sunday morning found many absent from the
breakfast table, and Dr. Smith made the rounds of the dormitories
with what he called his “Sunday Specific.” But Aunt Louisa wasn’t the
sort to bring trouble to a boy’s digestion; she said so herself in the
presence of Nelson and Dan and Bob and Tom, the first three having
been formally introduced by Tom as “my special friends.”
“I don’t believe in candy, Tom,” said Aunt Louisa, “and you know
it. So don’t expect any. You’re looking so well, my dear, that I
wouldn’t think of bringing you anything that might upset you. I did
consider fruit, but I’m always afraid of fruit; in hot weather—aren’t
you, sir?”
Dan, finding the question put to him, answered with alacrity.
“Yes’m,” said Dan soberly.
“Yes, that’s what I think,” continued Aunt Louisa. “And so I said to
myself, ‘If it must be something sweet’—for Tom’s got the sweetest
tooth of any boy I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a good many in my
time—‘if it must be something sweet,’ I said, ‘why, it will be
something healthful.’ And so, Tom, I’ve brought you two of those
lemon pies and a dozen cream-puffs from that nice store on Temple
Place. There’s nothing about a good honest pie can hurt any one—is
there?”
“No, indeed,” answered Dan with enthusiasm. Tom murmured his
thanks, but withal looked a trifle dissatisfied. Aunt Louisa saw it.
“I do believe he’s disappointed at not getting candy!” she said.
“No, really, aunt,” Tom answered, striving to put conviction into his
tones. “I’m awfully fond of cream-puffs—and pie.”
But Aunt Louisa shook her head, unconvinced. “I’m afraid you are,
though,” she said. “I kind of felt you would be. That’s why I said to
myself, ‘Now, there’s mighty little use in being in good health if
you’re unhappy. If the boy’s going to get more enjoyment out of
having a stomach-ache than by not having one, why, he shall have
it. Boys aren’t real happy, anyhow,’ I said to myself, ‘unless they’re in
trouble, and I guess a stomach-ache’s about as harmless a trouble
as he could have.’ And so I just went down to Sage & Paw’s and——”
“Hooray for you, Aunt Louisa!” shouted Tom. “What d’you get?”
“Mixed chocolates,” said Aunt Louisa, her eyes dancing, adding
grimly, “I guess they’ll do the work as quick as anything!”
Candy never tastes so good as when a chap has been subsisting
on what the school catalogues call “a plain, wholesome diet with a
sufficiency of pure milk and butter and fresh eggs.” The box, a
generous four-pound affair, was quickly obtained, and the five—Aunt
Louisa reminding one of a valuable transport under the protection of
four men-o’-war—sought a quiet spot in the forest above the
clearing where they, or at least four of them, could do the matter full
justice. Aunt Louisa sat on a fallen tree, with her neat gray traveling-
gown well tucked up around her, and encouraged them to eat all
they could.
“You might just as well have it over with,” she declared. “You’re all
bound to be ill, and the sooner you’re ill the sooner you’ll be well
again. Mr. Hurry, you mustn’t let Tom get ahead of you.”
“Dan’s name’s Speede, auntie,” corrected Tom.
“Speede, is it? Well, he’s real slow compared to you, Tom, when it
comes to candy.”
They unanimously voted Aunt Louisa a “brick,” and hospitably
pressed her to come again. And in the afternoon, when the camp
turned out in a body and traveled to the ball field for the first game
of the season, Aunt Louisa was escorted in state. The box of candy
didn’t go along however; they had lost the edge of their appetite. So
Tom bore the depleted box to Maple Hall, and, because his locker no
longer locked, and because the sign artistically done on the door
with a hot poker, which sign surrounded a grinning skull and cross-
bones and read, “Danger! Keep Out!” had no meaning for the other
occupants of the hall, he secreted it at the head of his bunk under
the mattress.
Chicora’s adversary that day was Camp Trescott. Trescott was
situated directly across the lake in Joy’s Cove. It was a small camp,
and the dozen and a half fellows inhabiting it were all from one
school. Trescott rather prided itself on being select. But select or not,
it wasn’t much at baseball, and Chicora had little difficulty in winning
as she pleased. But despite a very one-sided score—17 to 3—there
were some good plays, and the spectators were well repaid for their
half-mile walk through the woods. Bob found plenty of things that
needed remedying, but on the whole the Chicora team played very
well for a first game.
There was quite a gallery of spectators at the evening plunge, and
Dan excelled himself at diving, bringing forth screams of terrified
protest from Aunt Louisa, who “just knew that Mr. Hurry would
drown himself, if he didn’t break his neck first!” Even Nelson, who of
late had been profiting by Dan’s instruction, did some very
respectable stunts in the line of what Tom called “high and lofty
tumbling.” Aunt Louisa, together with nearly a dozen other guests,
stayed to supper and camp-fire, being taken back to Chicora Inn at
nine in the steam-launch. A dozen or so of the boys went along with
the guests, the Four among them. There was a jolly big white moon
that made a wide sparkling path across the water, and there was a
nice nippy little breeze from the east that rendered the seats about
the boiler very popular. Mr. Clinton ran the launch, and coming back
he made no protest when Bob, who was at the wheel, turned the
head of the Chicora across the lake and hugged the opposite shore
all the way back, explaining sotto voce to Nelson that “the longest
way around was the shortest way home.”
It was after ten when they finally made the landing, and nearly
half past when, having helped the Chief make fast the boat for the
night and partaken of a lunch of milk and crackers in the dining-hall,
the Four tumbled into bed and put out their lanterns. And it was just
about midnight when a heartrending shriek broke out on the stillness
and brought every fellow into a sitting position in his bunk with
visions of murder. In the momentary silence ensuing there was a
loud thump of a body striking the floor, the building shook on its
foundations, and Mr. Verder’s alarmed voice rang out:
“What’s the matter? Who yelled, fellows?”
“Wha-wha-wha-what’s the mu-mu-mu-matter?” shrieked a voice
midway down the hall. “I du-du-dunno what’s the mu-mu-mu—
what’s the mu-mu-mu-matter! I only know I’m bu-bu-bu-being eat-
tu-tu-eaten alive!”
A howl of laughter rewarded the explanation, and lanterns were
quickly lighted. Dan was one of the first on the scene. Tom, his
blankets scattered around him, stood in his pajamas with staring
eyes and busy hands. First he rubbed and slapped one part of his
body, then another, and all the time he kept up an indignant
stuttering.
“Tu-tu-talk about pu-pu-pu-pins an’ nu-nu-needles! Gu-gu-gee!
Su-su-somebody’s put a whole pu-pu-pu-package of ’em in mu-mu-
my bed!”
“Shut up your howling,” said Dan with a grin. “What’s the fun?”
“Fu-fu-fun!” yelled Tom. “I wish you had it!”
“Had what?”
“Wha-wha-whatever it is, you bu-bu-bu-blamed idiot!” answered
Tom wrathfully. Then, with a sudden shriek, he leaped a foot into the
air, grabbed his pajamas above his left knee, and danced nimbly
about the floor, at last becoming entangled in the blankets and
tumbling headlong at the feet of Mr. Verder, who came hurrying up.
Every fellow was on hand by that time, and Tom was pulled
sputtering to his feet. Mr. Verder took the nearest lantern and
investigated. The cause of Tom’s unhappiness wasn’t far to seek.
Over the bed and blankets swarmed a veritable army of big black
ants!
“Ants!” said Mr. Verder, laughing. “What are you doing, Ferris,
studying entomology?”
“Probably antomology,” hazarded Nelson.
“Ants?” exclaimed Tom, still rubbing himself busily. “Ants! Gee, I
thought they were bu-bu-bu-bees at least! They haven’t done a th-
th-th-thing tu-tu-tu-to me, sir!”
“Well, I’m sorry, Ferris,” said the councilor. “The Doctor will get
you something to put on the bites. But what are they doing on your
bed?”
“I gu-gu-guess it’s the cu-cu-cu-candy, sir,” said Tom sheepishly.
“Candy? What candy?”
For answer Tom raised the mattress, revealing a box about which
the ants were crawling excitedly to and fro.
“Well,” said Mr. Verder when the laughter had somewhat subsided,
“after this you had better keep your candy somewhere else.”
For answer Tom seized the box gingerly and hurled it out the
nearest window. Dr. Smith appeared with a bottle of witch-hazel,
and Tom, dispensing with his pajamas, received medical assistance.
After that order and quiet were restored only with much difficulty.
Tom went elsewhere to continue his interrupted slumber, hugging
the bottle of witch-hazel to his breast, but he couldn’t get beyond
the gibes of his companions. They sat on the edge of his new bunk
and pointed out the moral to him, which, according to them, was to
the effect that selfishness had been justly rewarded. And Tom,
rubbing and grimacing, had no spirit left with which to defend
himself.
“It proves,” declared Dan, “that a fellow can have too many ants!”
Tom only groaned, whether at the pun or at his pain they didn’t
know.
CHAPTER IX
STARTS OUT WITH POETRY, HAS TO DO WITH
A BEETLE, AND ENDS WITH A PENALTY

elson read with a nod of approval.

“And this our life, exempt from public haunt,


Finds tongues in trees, books in the running
brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything.”

He was sitting at the table on the porch of Birch Hall, and the lines
that pleased him were burned on a wooden tablet affixed to the big
stone chimney across the room. His gaze, returning from the
quotation, fell on Tom, who at a neighboring table was, like Nelson,
writing home. One of Tom’s legs was twined around the camp-stool
upon which he was seated, as a morning-glory vine twines about a
post. The other leg was stretched straight ahead, as though seeking
inspiration at a distance. His forehead was puckered with wrinkles
until it resembled the surface of a washboard, and he chewed
ravenously at the tip of his pen. Nelson smiled, and let his gaze
wander back to his own task only to have it prove truant again,
attracted by the scene at his left.
The porch overhung the hill, and from where he sat he looked into
the swaying branches of the trees. Between them, like turquoises set
in a field of emerald and chrysoprase, shone patches of the lake
ruffled to a tender blue by the breeze that sang amid the trees.
Near-by a silver poplar flashed the under surface of its leaves into
the sunlight, so that they seemed to have been dipped in pale gold.
A gray squirrel chattered and scolded on a neighboring limb, and all
about birds sang blithely. Nelson sighed, and brought his eyes
resolutely back to the half-written letter before him. It wasn’t a
morning for letter-writing; the woods called too loudly; his thoughts
would stray.
“Oh, hang it!” exclaimed Tom, “I don’t know what to write!”
“Did you tell them about the ants last night?” asked Nelson
innocently.
“You bet I did! And say, one of those bites still aches like the
mischief. I never thought ants could nip like that!”
“You probably rolled over on them; that’s enough to make any
self-respecting ant angry.”
“Oh, dry up and blow away! What are you writing about?”
“Not much of anything—yet. I mentioned the ants. And the
weather; I suppose they’ll be pleased to know what sort of weather
we had two days before they get my letter! I’ve got almost a page
about the weather.”
“Gee! I wish I could write like that. I told ’em it was a fine day, but
it only took a line. Wish I could string it out like you can! I guess I’ll
just say that I’m well, and that it’s time for dinner, so no more at
present.”
“Time for dinner! Why, it’s only half past nine!”
“Oh, you’re too fussy,” answered Tom, drumming on the table with
his pen. “Besides, it’s always time for dinner!”
“Have you told them about your aunt?”
“Great Scott, no! I forgot all about her. Say, you’re a true friend,
Nel!” And Tom, after scowling fiercely at the tip of his pen for a
moment, took a firmer hold of the camp-stool with his leg and began
to write vigorously, so vigorously that Nelson feared he would break
his pen. Ten minutes passed, during which Nelson finished his own
letter, and Tom, having told of Aunt Louisa’s visit in a scant half-
dozen lines, informed his parents somewhat unnecessarily that “the
weather continues fine,” and that “I will tell you more in my next,”
and signed himself “Your loving son, Thomas Courtenay Ferris.”
Then, having hastily sealed and stamped their letters, they
dropped them into the mail-box with sighs of relief and hastened
out-of-doors.
“Let’s go up to the tennis-court and be lazy until time for church,”
suggested Tom.
So they climbed the hill, found a place where the grass offered
comfort and the overhanging branches promised shade, and
stretched themselves out. Above them was a wide-spreading oak,
behind them a little settlement of young birch carpeted with trailing
evergreen and partridge-berries. Bordering the path were blueberry
and raspberry bushes and goldenrod, the latter already beginning to
glow, although August was but just at hand. Thereabouts grew wild
strawberries, if Tom was to be believed, although they had long
since ceased fruiting. Rocks outcropped on every side, and tall ferns
grew abundantly. It was Tom who presently wiggled forward and
plucked from a tiny covert of evergreen and grass three oddly
shaped blossoms, pallid and translucent.
“What the dickens are these things?” he asked perplexedly. He
viewed them suspiciously as though he feared they might poison
him.
“Indian-pipe,” answered Nelson. “Monotropa uniflora. Let’s see
one.”
“Are they poisonous?”
“No, indeed, but they do look a bit unhealthy, don’t they? Corpse-
plant they’re called, too.”
“They sure do; look like mushrooms gone wrong. Indian-pipe, eh?
Gee, I guess nobody but an Indian would want to smoke such a
thing! Say, they smell nice, don’t they?”
“Nice?” repeated Nelson suspiciously. “Smell pretty bad, I
suppose. By jove, they don’t though. Say, they’re real sweet! I never
knew that they had any odor before. If it was stronger it would be
mighty sweet, wouldn’t it? It’s—it’s what you might call illusive.”
“That’s a fine word,” said Tom lazily. “Ill-use-ive, of no use.” He
tossed them aside and settled his hands under his head, staring
drowsily up into the sun-flecked branches. “Good night; wake me in
time for dinner.” He was really dropping off to sleep when Nelson
called to him softly:
“Say, Tom, come over here.”
“What for?” asked Tom sleepily.
“I want you to see this beetle,” giggled Nelson. “He’s the craziest
dub you ever saw. Come, look!”
“Beetle!” muttered Tom disgustedly. Nevertheless he found
sufficient energy to wriggle along on his stomach to the other’s side.
“Where’s your old bu-bu-beetle?” he asked.
“There,” answered Nelson, pointing with a twig. He was a small
chap, grayish-black in color, with what Nelson declared to be the
Morse code written down his back. He was trying to get somewhere,
just where wasn’t apparent, for no sooner did he make headway in
one direction than he changed his route and started off in another.
He was laughably awkward, and bumped into everything in his path.
“Bet you he’s been eating toadstools,” said Tom, “and is very ill.”
“I’ve named him ‘Tom,’” said Nelson soberly.
“Think he looks like me?” asked Tom.
“N-no, but he walks like you.”
“Huh! Look at the idiot, will you?” The beetle had encountered an
acorn at least ten times his size and was vainly striving to shove it
out of his path. Again and again he stood on his hind legs and tried
to move the acorn, acting in a most absurdly exasperated way.
“He’s getting terribly mad,” said Nelson. “It doesn’t occur to him, I
suppose, that he can walk around it. Let’s take it out of his way; if
we don’t, he’ll stay there all day and never get home to his family.”
So the acorn was flicked aside with Nelson’s twig. But the effect on
the beetle was not what they had expected. He immediately began
to run around very hurriedly in a tiny circle as though trying to make
himself dizzy.
“Bet you he’s wondering where the acorn went to,” said Tom.
“Look at the idiot! Hey, get up there!” And Tom, borrowing Nelson’s
twig, gave the beetle a shove. Apparently that was just what he
needed. After a moment, spent perhaps in gathering his thoughts,
he started off in a new direction and covered six inches of ground,
knocking into every blade of grass and every tiny obstruction on the
way. Then, for no apparent reason, he crawled in at one end of a
dried and curled leaf and proceeded to try and get out again by
climbing the sides. As the sides curved inward he had a terrible time
of it. Six times he fell onto his back, all legs waving wildly, and had
great difficulty in regaining his equilibrium. At last, quite by accident,
he got too near one end of the leaf and tumbled out. Then he took
up his journey again.
“I don’t think insects have much sense,” said Tom disgustedly.
“This one hasn’t, that’s certain,” said Nelson. “If he doesn’t look
out he’ll— There he goes, plump into that spider-web. Why, any one
could have seen it! Look at him! Tom, you’re an awful fool!”
“Huh?” said Tom in surprise.
“I was addressing your namesake,” explained Nelson.
The namesake was blundering deeper and deeper into the tiny
web, reminding the watchers of a man walking through a series of
hotbeds as depicted in a comic paper. Finally, by sheer weight, the
beetle came out on the other side with a large part of the web
trailing behind him, and a very small spider, looking like the head of
a black pin, emerged from her hiding-place and began to run
excitedly over the scene of her former habitation.
“Don’t blame her,” grunted Tom. “Things are certainly torn up.”
The beetle, doubling in his tracks, progressed without further
misadventure for almost a foot. Then he stopped, dug his head into
the earth, and waved his legs vexatiously.
“Oh, he’s plumb crazy!” laughed Nelson.
“I guess he dropped something and is looking for it,” said Tom.
“Perhaps it’s his watch. Or maybe——”
Tom’s further surmises were rudely interrupted. Up the hill floated
a most unmelodious shout. Nelson sat up as though he had touched
a live wire.
“Great Scott!” he exclaimed, “what’s that?”
“It’s Joe Carter,” said Tom. “He learned that yell from his brother,
who was on the Yale freshman crew.”
“It sounds like—like a banshee!”
“Never heard one,” said Tom.
“Really? I had a tame one once,” answered Nelson, laughing.
“You mean bantam, I guess. Hello, there he goes again. Maybe
he’s calling us.” And Tom lifted up his voice in a weak imitation of
Carter’s awful effort.
“Oh, you can’t do it, Tommy, my boy. Why, I couldn’t have heard
that ten miles!”
But Carter wasn’t that far off, and presently, after sending an
answering hail, he appeared in the path.
“Say, you fellows, Clint wants to see you in the office.” Then he
dropped his voice to an awed whisper. “He’s found out about the
sign on the cliff,” he added.
“Phew!” said Nelson. “Was he mad?”
“N-no, I don’t think so, but it’s hard to tell,” Carter replied. “But he
looked pretty serious. He’s sent for Bob and Dan, too.”
The latter were coming up the hill into the clearing as Nelson and
Tom appeared from above. They exchanged sympathetic grins and
shakes of the head, and then composed their features and filed into
Poplar Hall. Mr. Clinton was at his desk behind the railing.
“Bring some chairs over here, boys, and sit down so that I may
talk to you. That’s it. Now, how about this blue-paint episode?”
His glance encountered four rather sheepish faces, but every eye
met his fairly. It was Bob who spoke first.
“We all had a hand in it, sir.”
“That’s so, sir,” Tom supplemented. And Nelson nodded. Dan alone
gave no sign. Mr. Clinton observed the fact and looked surprised.
“You didn’t have a hand in it, then Speede?” he asked.
Dan’s face suddenly wreathed itself in a broad smile and his blue
eyes twinkled.
“I was pretty near all in it, Mr. Clint,” he answered. “You see, sir,
they emptied the pot of paint over me!”
The Chief smiled a little.
“Too bad they didn’t use it all that way,” he said. “Now, look here,
boys; I’ve heard how you rigged up ropes and slung—slung one of
your number over the cliff——”
“That was me, sir,” interrupted Dan modestly.
“Whoever it was, it was a foolhardy and dangerous piece of
business. You might have fallen and broken your neck. I’ll confess to
a feeling of admiration for the pluck displayed, but I have no
sympathy for the achievement. I am responsible for the welfare of
you boys while you’re here in this camp. How do you suppose I
could have faced your folks, Speede, if you had injured yourself?”
“I don’t think the danger was so great as you think, sir,” answered
Dan. “We—we took every precaution.”
The Chief sniffed audibly. “The only sensible precaution would
have been to have an ambulance waiting at the bottom,” he said
dryly. “If you had to endanger your limbs—and I confess I can’t see
the necessity of it—I’d prefer you did it in some better cause. In
plain language, what you committed was an act of vandalism. To
daub up the scenery with a lot of blue paint is nothing else. It shows
not only mighty poor taste, but selfishness as well. The Lord put that
cliff there to be a part of the natural scenery, for people to look at
and enjoy. And when you deface it you are depriving others of their
rights, merely to give yourselves an instant’s selfish satisfaction.”
He paused and awaited a reply; finally:
“It was Wickasaw started it, sir,” said Tom. “They painted their
name there first, and they hadn’t any business doing that, sir; and
so——”
“And so you thought you had to outrage good taste also? A very
poor excuse, Ferris. Now I want you to promise never to attempt
anything of the sort again. And I want you to promise, too, that
whenever, not only while you’re here but all your lives, you know of
an attempt on the part of any one to deface the natural scenery, you
will do all in your power to prevent it. What do you say?”
“I’ll promise, sir,” said Bob, and the others chimed in.
“Very well. I am pretty certain you went about this thing
thoughtlessly, and I don’t want to be hard on you; but at the same
time I can not altogether overlook it. Let me see; you asked for
permission, didn’t you, to take dinner at the Inn?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And I gave it. Now I fancy you accord me the right of retracting
that permission, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” said Nelson softly.
“Yes; well, I think you had better stay in camp the rest of the day.
That’s all, boys.”
“Mr. Clinton,” said Tom, as they replaced their chairs, “please, sir,
will you stop at the Inn landing for my aunt? I told her we’d be over
to dinner and take her on the launch afterward, and I guess she’ll be
worried.”
“H’m. I’d forgotten your aunt was here, Ferris. When does she
return to the city?”
“First train in the morning, sir.”
“Well, you may come along on the launch, I guess, all of you. But
no going to the Inn for dinner, you understand.”
“No, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Outside they heaved sighs of relief.
“Gee!” said Dan, “we got out of that cheap, didn’t we?”
And all concurred. Only Tom looked sorrowful.
“They have swell grub at the Inn,” he murmured regretfully.
CHAPTER X
DESCRIBES AN AFTERNOON ON THE LAKE
AND A GALLANT RESCUE

he Chicora was a trim-looking steam-launch, thirty feet in


length, and with a comfortable beam. And when she
steamed away from the landing, at three o’clock, she
held sixteen boys, Mr. Clinton, Mr. Verder, and Mr.
Thorpe. She was pretty well loaded, but there still remained room
for several parents and relatives who were to be picked up at the
Inn. Dan, Nelson, Tom, and Bob were perched on the tiny deck
space aft of the cabin and looked very, very good. When Aunt Louisa
appeared, looking rather doubtful of the enterprise, she was
conducted to a seat near-by.
“You needn’t tell me why you didn’t come to dinner,” she said at
once. “I felt pretty certain you’d made yourself sick with that candy,
and now I’m sure of it. I never knew you to look like an angel, Tom,
save when you were sick or getting well.”
Whereupon she was acquainted in whispers of the real reason of
their non-appearance, and wouldn’t believe that “Mr. Hurry” had
performed such a hazardous feat until, the launch having turned its
nose across the lake, the cliff came into sight and the staring blue
letters were quietly pointed out to her.
“Well, I never!” she ejaculated. “If that wasn’t a clever thing to do!
And a very wicked one!” she added quickly and disapprovingly.
“Scenery’s very pretty to-day,” remarked Carter, grinning at Dan.
And Dan, with an apologetic glance at Aunt Louisa, kicked Carter
good and hard. Mr. Clinton, busy at the engine, refused to hear.
Neither did he show that the offensive inscription on the cliff ahead
of them was in existence. Once headed down the lake the launch
got the full effect of the waves, which, under a strong easterly wind,
were kicking up quite a rumpus. Those in the bow received frequent
wettings, and there was a struggle for places there. Aunt Louisa was
quite certain she was going to be seasick, and insisted cheerfully
that, in such a contingency, she must be set ashore at once, no
matter where.
“I always say,” she announced, “that it’s a heap better to go
ashore, even if it’s on a desert island, than stay in a boat and be
sick. And I do hope Mr. Clinton will keep near land, for seasickness
does come on so suddenly!”
But the foot of the lake was reached without any signs of illness
on her part other than a slight uneasiness, and when they had
passed under the bridge by the village and began to wind through
the little river, even that was forgotten. In many places the trees
almost swept the boat with their branches, and the channel was so
narrow that the most careful steering was necessary. Half-way
through to Hipp’s Pond there was a shout from the fellows in the
bow.
“Look at the duck!” they cried. Those aft struggled for a view. A
small duck, and evidently a young one, was bobbing up and down in
the boat’s waves scarce three yards away. As they passed, it
watched them with staring, beady eyes, but made no move toward
flight.
“Gee!” said Tom, his own eyes quite as starey as the duck’s, “if we
only had a gun!” Then the duck came alongside him and the
temptation was too great. With one hand on a stanchion, he leaned
far out and made a wild grab. He didn’t get the duck he expected,
but he got one kind; for he lost his balance and his hold
simultaneously, and went overboard head foremost with a mighty
splash. Aunt Louisa gave a shriek of terror and turned to Dan:
“Go after him, Hurry! Save him!”
“Yes’m,” answered Dan, with a grin. Then over he went just as the
engine was stopped, and just as Tom came up sputtering some
twenty yards away.
“Keep up!” called Dan. “I’ll save you!” And Aunt Louisa, watching
anxiously, couldn’t understand why the fellows laughed so
uproariously. Tom, shaking his head to get the water from his eyes,
turned and started toward the boat. But Dan wasn’t a life-saver for
nothing.
“Don’t give up!” he called. “Fight hard! I’ll have you in a moment!”
“You ku-ku-ku-keep away from mu-mu-mu-me!” answered Tom.
“Saved!” shouted Dan, and then rescued and rescuer disappeared
from sight.
“Oh!” shrieked Aunt Louisa, “they’re both drowning!”
And every one else laughed harder than before.
Then up came Dan’s head, and up came Tom’s, and a merry
struggle took place. Dan insisted on pulling Tom back to the launch
by the back of his sweater, and Tom refused.
“Lu-lu-lu-let mu-mu-mu-me alone, you, i-i-i-idiot!” he protested.
“You shut up!” answered Dan. “I was asked to save you, and I’m
going to do it if I have to drown you.” He got a fresh grip on Tom
and—down they went again. In the end Mr. Clinton had to take a
hand, otherwise they might have been there yet. Tom, looking
sheepish, was helped over the side, and Dan pulled in after him.
Aunt Louisa began a speech of thanks to the latter, but Nelson,
wiping the tears from his eyes, at last found his voice.
“He didn’t do anything, ma’am,” he explained. “Tom can swim like
a fish; he’s the best swimmer in camp!”
“Do you mean to tell me,” she demanded, “that he wasn’t
drowning?”
“No’m—yes’m—I mean he wasn’t.”

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