Meleah's Western part 17

Good Morning to all you Friday Fiction Fans,
I am home again after a busy time of being gone. For those of you who are wondering when Mom and I actually left last week, it wasn't until Friday about 1:30. We got to Grandma and Grandpa's just before supper. Saturday was very busy. In the morning Mom and I went to three used book stores.:) (Did I ever say we like books?) Then in the afternoon, I helped paint my aunt's bedroom. I also managed to get in some games of ping-pong.

And then it was the conference in St. Charles. That was fun. But it is nice to be home again. And since I have things to do now, I'll just post the Western and get on with things. Hope you enjoy it.

Part 17

“Ty?” Sally laid a gentle hand on his arm, but received no response. It was as though Ty was no longer there. His eyes were vacant and his hands limp as they rested on his knees.

The sound of a horse riding up caused the woman of the house to hurry to the door, fling it open and rush out to greet the rider. It was all so like the greetings Ellen used to give Jake that Carson had to brush back the sudden rush of tears and clear his throat several times.
Pausing before his unexpected guests, the rider held out his hand in friendly greeting. “Bob Carson? After all these years!”
Carson grasped the offered hand but looked puzzled.
The man grinned. “You don’t remember Tom Jakobus? Only it was Tommy back then.”
“Tommy?” Carson stared a moment and then a smile broke across his face. “How could I forget ya when ya was the most troublesome, mischievous youngun I ever laid eyes on!”
The man’s hearty laugh filled the cabin. “I hope I’ve grown out of that.”
“He has indeed,” the woman added while stirring a pot over the fire. “Else I wouldn’t have up and married him.”
After a little more laughing, Carson introduced Sally and tried to rouse Ty, but in vain. “I reckon I’ll have ta jest drag him out an’ toss him on his horse.”
“Why don’t the three of you jest bed down here the night?” Tom invited. “The cabin ain’t large, but I reckon with the loft, it’ll do. ‘Sides, I’m wantin’ ta hear what brings ya back ta these here parts.”
It didn’t take much persuasion for Carson and Sally to accept. Sally for the sake of not remounting her horse again that night, and Carson to catch up on things. The two men, talking incessantly, strode out to take care of the horses, leaving Sally to assist Mrs. Jakobus in getting the meal ready.

For a long time the fire burned that night in the little cabin. Carson told their story once again, and Tom listened in silence as his wife had done earlier. For several minutes after Carson had ended, no one spoke.
Then in a voice like one just awakened from a deep sleep, Ty spoke. “If we jest had a clue ta where she is, I’d go anywhere ta find her. If we even knew the family’s name that took her it would help.”
“I don’t think I can help ya much with the name, but--” Tom paused in thought and every eye turned and fastened on him. “I recall hearin’ that they all was headin’ up ta the Nebraska Territory. I reckon that’ll be a right long trip even if’n ya don’t take wagons an’ such.”
Ty nodded. “I’ll say it’d be quite the ride.”
“Ya aim ta try fer it?”
Ty and Carson exchanged glances. Was this really a clue or would it just lead them out of the way? It was just one man’s word about something that had happened a dozen years before. Perhaps they could find out some more information from town.

Almost as though he could read their thoughts, Tom said quietly, “If’n I was in yer shoes, like as not I’d ride inta town first thing an’ ask ‘round. Sure there’s got ta be some one who knows somethin’.”
Carson nodded in agreement as Ty replied, “We’ll do that.” Then noting the look on Sally’s face he added, “Would ya be agreeable to us leavin’ Sally here while we ask ‘round? I reckon she could do with a day out a the saddle.”
“Why of course she can stay! I wouldn’t think of sendin’ her off jest to ask questions. It ain’t every day I get company back here and I don’t aim to part with it easily.” Mrs. Jakobus’ warm smile made Sally feel right at home, almost as though they had known each other for years.

It was early the next morning, not long after dawn, when the three men, Carson, Ty and Tom rode out of the yard toward town. In and out of the woods the trail wound its way eastward. Now the pale blue of the clear sky was above them, now the branches of the trees with tiny green leaves giving an almost moss like look to their dark bark shaded them. Merry little birds sang and warbled madly. There were so many of them that an individual bird was hard to identify from his song.

Carson gave a low whistle as the town suddenly sprang up before them as they crested a rise.
“Quite up an’ comin’ ain’t it?” Tom grinned.
“This ain’t a town, this here's a city!”
Ty grunted in agreement as they started down the main street.

It was still early and not many people were astir.
An older, grizzled man walking with a decided limp paused and nodded to the trio. “Howdy, Tom.”
“Howdy, Mr. Dunley. You remember Bob Carson?” He nodded toward his companion.
“Bob Carson? Course I do, but that ain’t, . . . why I’ll be a linxed faced coyote, if that ain’t my old friend Bob!”
Carson dismounted and eagerly greeted his old friend. Ty was introduced and the reason for their unexpected return recounted briefly.
“Wal, I don’t reckon I ken give ya much help. I always heard it tell they lighted out fer--” he scratched his chin and frowned. “Wal, I’m a thinkin’ it might a been Fort Laramie though I ain’t sarten.”
“That’d be Nebraska Territory,” Ty remarked.
Carson nodded, and after a few more minutes of talk, the trio said good bye and moved on.

The streets were growing more crowded and the noise of a saloon broke rakishly upon the still morning air as the door was opened. A voice sounded.
“I tell ya we’ll catch an’ string him up. Don’t care how long he tries ta hide!”
Ty had his gun in his hand as he gasped out, “Who is that?”

Any Questions?

"The Emancipation of Chester Reginald Donavan, Esquire"

Well, I'm pretending this is Friday morning. I strongly doubt that anyone will be looking at this before then, so it won't matter. I hope I'll be in KC tomorrow morning, but we'll see. Mom and I are stuck here at home because our van is in the shop getting the AC fixed. We were supposed to go to KC yesterday about 7:30 in the morning with Sarah, but it didn't happen. Dad and Sarah left this morning for the Des Moines conference, so it is just Mom and I here. We are waiting. And since we are waiting, I thought now would be a good time to post this. Then I won't have to try to figure out Grandma's PC. :}

Okay, here is the last part of the story. A friend read it and asked if I would consider sending it to a magazine. I said I would if I knew of any magazine. But I'm rambling.

The Emancipation of Chester Reginald Donavan, Esquire

The following day found Chester Reginald Donavan, Esq., restless and completely out of sorts. He had never had to rely on his own creativity when he was bored, and he found it too much work to try now. Finally when the afternoon had come the little E-bay man suggested they try to figure out just where they were using their compasses and maps. Chester agreed reluctantly.
When evening came, the little E-bay man began to point out the constellations to his companion, and Chester, much to his own astonishment, found this to be very fascinating, and it was quite late before they turned in.

For three more days the two companions busied themselves with learning all they could about living out in the wild. It was really the little E-bay man who started it, and he was the teacher, for he had grown up loving things of this sort. Chester, having never thought about them before, found them to hold an almost irresistible fascination for his quick brain. Before long he had forgotten his missing i-phone and even the fact that the day for his great test as a lawyer was fast approaching while he remained stuck in the mountain wilderness. He grew eager to test and try the things his companion told him about and didn’t even notice that the days were growing colder and shorter.

It was the fifth night after that memorable one of his tent collapsing that Chester and the little E-bay man were sitting beside their camp fire gazing into the flames.
“You know,” Chester remarked, “I’ll be sad when this trip is over. I never knew that the real world was so interesting. I’ve always lived in the world of computer games, fast food, TV, internet, fancy cars and i-phones.” He added the last with a laugh. “I always thought everything else was dull and worthless. I’m beginning to see things from a new perspective.”
“Good. Do you think you’ll want to go on another camping trip?”
“Absolutely!” Chester was enthusiastic and for several minutes talked about what he had learned. “But you know,” he added quietly after a little while of silence, “I think the thing that has made the biggest impression on me is what you said that first day about a designer making everything. I’m not sure I buy into the creation account yet, but I’m going to do some serious studying.”
The little E-bay man was silent, and for several more minutes they sat thus, each busy with his own thoughts.

At last Chester spoke again. “Hey, E-bay, look at those clouds over in the north west. Think they mean anything?”
Turning around, the little E-bay man studied the bank of clouds for a minute before saying, “It looks like snow.”
“Really! That ought to make things interesting. Do you think it will be a lot or just a dusting like the peaks over there got this morning?”
His companion shrugged. “That’s one thing I can’t say for sure. Hopefully it will just be a dusting. But what say we turn in?”

When Chester crawled out of his tent the next morning, he discovered a dusting of snow had fallen during the night and the sky was overcast. The distant peaks were nearly white though the valley below them was still golden brown. Chester got the fire going and was fixing breakfast when the little E-bay man emerged from his tent.
“See, I’m getting the hang of this camping out stuff,” Chester laughed. “Another few days and I’ll be an expert. Well,” he admitted as the little E-bay man gave a snort. “Okay, not quite, but it’s an improvement.”
To this his companion agreed, and they began to partake of the hot food. Suddenly the little E-bay man paused and cocked his head as though listening. Chester listened too and thought he could hear voices. Was it his imagination or was a rescue party really coming? The two men were on their feet, eyes searching for signs of other humans. At last with a shout, Chester pointed to the valley in the distance. There indeed was a group heading their way!
“Come on,” the little E-bay man ordered. “Let’s get this camp packed up so we can leave. I think a storm might be on its way.”
With no more words, the two men began a rapid packing up of their gear. But when Chester came to take down his tent,
“E-bay!” he hollered, “How in the world do you get these stake things out of the ground? What did you do, cement them in?”
Both men chuckled as E-bay showed Chester the easiest way to pull out a stake, and then helped him fold and pack his tent.
“I hope I can set it up without the instructions next time. If I can’t, I’ll be calling you up, E-bay.”
“On that i-phone of yours no doubt.”
“Why of course. And I was thinking of checking on E-bay for a warm jacket.”

By the time the rescue party reached the two lost campers, they were packed and ready to go. The Park rangers were greatly relieved to find neither one injured and set off at once, for a snow storm was blowing in.

The End

Did you like it?

P.S. Hey I didn't know this but I can make this get published tomorrow at the usual time! So when you read it, this will be old news. Come back next Friday and I'll tell you when we actually left.:)

"The Emancipation of Chester Reginald Donavan, Esquire" Part 3

Good Morning Friday Fiction Fans,
Yes, believe it or not it is Friday once again. Has your week been busy like mine? I did get some writing done. :) The next Western is written, but not corrected and I have almost half of my next assignment done. The story is quite different than anything yet. (Do I always say that?) I'd someday love to do something with all these short stories I'm writing, but I don't know what. I sent this story to a friend and she asked if I'd consider sending it to a magazine. I said I would if I knew of a magazine.:) That's the problem, I don't know of any place to send my stories. So, if any of you know of a place, let me know.

Next week I'll be in KC and I won't have Sarah's laptop. She and Dad will be doing a conference for Jimmy in Iowa. That will mean I have to use Grandma's computer which is a PC. I am not good at using those so I'll have to get Grandma to help. I just wanted you all to know in case you get on to check this blog around 8:00 in the morning. It might be later when it gets up. And that will be the last of "The Emancipation of Chester Reginald Donavan, Esquire."

But now for Part 3. Hope you enjoy it!

Last week . . .

“Stay calm,” he whispered, but the very fright in his voice only added to his terror and when his foot, which was somewhere down in the tightly tangled, twisted mess, bumped against something hard, Chester Reginald Donavan, Esq., the great budding lawyer let out a yell so loud that it awakened echoes up and down the mountain side. “E-bay!”
Chester was trembling in fright. He didn’t dare move, but he felt as though he couldn’t breathe. There was no air! The tent was flat! He was hopelessly trapped! Just when he felt he could stand the strain no longer, a deep but perfectly calm and even slightly amused voice sounded, and a light was played back and forth over where he lay.
“So, you having a little problem? If you are cold, I really wouldn’t recommend knocking down your tent. Do you want a little help?”
“Just get me out!” came Chester’s wavering voice.
“Stay calm and let me have a look at this mess. You sure did manage--” but the little E-bay man left the rest unfinished, and propping up his flashlight where it would do the most good, set about trying to free his captive companion. This was no easy task, for in his twisting and turning search for his flashlight, Chester had unknowingly rolled over the front zipper thus trapping himself inside. It was with great difficulty that he was at last coaxed into rolling back and that only after a fire had been built which gave added light to the rescuer’s efforts. It was a good forty minutes before Chester was at last standing in the open, a shivering and shaking figure.

“Here, take this coat and go sit by the fire while I set this back up.” The little man gave Chester a gentle shove towards the bright blaze and turned back to the tent. “Why, where are all your stakes?” he exclaimed in astonishment.
“I d-didn’t think I’d n-need them all,” admitted Chester, teeth chattering from cold. “And I hit m-my thumb so m-many times, I thought it w-wasn’t w-worth it,” he added to justify his actions or lack of them.
With a shake of his head, the other man went to work and in short order had the tent up and properly staked and had found the missing flashlight. “Now,” he asked coming over to the fire, “do you think you can go to sleep again? The tent is set up and there are still several hours before daylight comes.” He yawned. “And I for one could use some more shut eye.”
“I think I can if you are sure it won’t fall again?”
“I’m sure.”
“I think I’ll take my flashlight into my sleeping bag this time. Just in case.”

For several hours Chester lay rigid and stiff in his sleeping bag inside his tent. He was wide awake. Never in all his thirty-one years of life had he ever slept outside separated from the elements by only a nylon tent. Every sound that came through the thin wall seemed to his ears to be as loud as the train near his house. But this was the wilderness! This was an untamed mountainside miles from anyone except the little E-bay man. He wondered what his friend Michael would say to this story. “He’d probably laugh and think it a good joke,” he thought. “Wish I had my i-phone. I’d text him. Hmm, what would I tell him?” For the next several minutes he composed all sorts of texts that he would enjoy sending if only he could. Finally just before dawn broke, he fell asleep.

“So, E-bay, when do we pack up camp and head out again?” The two men were finishing up their breakfast and enjoying the warm sun as they drank their last cups of coffee.
“Well, I think we’ll just stay here.”
“Here? Why?”
“For one, it’s a good place to camp: water, plenty of wood for the fire, shelter, a nice view. And since we are lost, we should stay in one place so they can find us. It is always harder to find someone if they keep moving. Besides,” the little E-bay man added, “it’s awfully hard hiking with feet covered in blisters.”
Chester looked down at his stocking feet and grimaced. That was true. His feet ached at the very thought of boots.
“You know, you should always try to break in your new hiking boots before you go on a hike. It’s easier on the feet.”
“How long did it take to break yours in?”
The little E-bay man glanced down at his warm, but quite comfortable boots. “Oh I don’t know, they were slightly used when I got them off of E-bay--”
Chester groaned. “Do you get everything off of E-bay?”
“Just about. Like I said, it’s kind of a hobby.”
Chester nodded. Strangest hobby he’d ever heard of.
“So, what do we do all day? Sit here like two old men?” Sarcasm flooded each word that broke the long silence.
The little E-bay man laughed. He did a lot of laughing, Chester noticed. “I suppose we could, but we could at least talk about something. You know, have a discussion. I didn’t say an argument. We might even venture for a short walk if you feel up to it, or if your feet do, I should say.”
“My feet don’t want to move right now.”
“Well then, suppose you pick a topic and we’ll start talking.”

Talk they did, and even though the little E-bay man said they weren’t to argue, they came mighty close to it several times, especially when the little E-bay man made a statement that the world was created by a Creator, and Chester declared it evolved over millions of years. Most of that day they did nothing but talk. And it was nearing the late afternoon hours before a lull came over them.

“When do you think they’ll find us?” Chester questioned somewhat hesitatingly for he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer.
His companion shrugged. “It could be this evening or it might not be for a couple of days.”
“A couple of days?” Chester had never thought of that possibility. “I can’t possibly live without my i-phone for that long!”
The little E-bay man shrugged again. “Then I guess you’ll die if it takes them a while. I think you could at least try to survive so I’m not alone. But seriously, it could take them that long because they first have to figure out we’re gone, and then figure out where we got lost and if we got lost together or separately and then find out which direction we went and then find us. Sound complicated?”
When Chester nodded, he added, “Believe me it is more complicated to find us than it is to find good bargains on E-bay.”

And so the hours passed into evening with Chester grumbling and complaining about his missing i-phone while his companion, the little E-bay man, sought to divert his thoughts and to cheer him up. Lurking in the back of Chester’s mind was worry. Worry that they would never be found, worry that they’d run out of food, worry that he wouldn’t get back home in time for this important case he was working on.

That night Chester didn’t sleep well. He kept waking up. He had been so tired and exhausted the night before that he hadn’t noticed the hard ground nor how cold his nose got. Now it was different. If he had had his i-phone, things would have been better, he assured himself, not once thinking that he might not be able to get reception way out there in the middle of nowhere. If he had his i-phone he could have sent out a message on Facebook or Twitter that he and the little E-bay man were lost and where they were. But just where were they? Chester had no idea and finally fell asleep wondering.

Join me next week for the conclusion of the story!

The Emancipation of Chester Reginald Donavan, Esquire - Part 2

Friday has come again. It is a good thing this story is taking a few weeks to post as I haven't gotten much written. I tried to write last night, but it just wasn't working. I think it was a combination of noise (we had the windows open and someone was mowing), heat (it is always warmer upstairs with the AC off) and a sinus headache. I had several stories in my brain, but I couldn't get them out. Hopefully I can get back to work soon.

I know those of you who commented are waiting for the second part, so I'll just post it.

The Emancipation of
Chester Reginald Donavan; Esquire
Part 2

Suddenly a new and to him dreadful thought struck him, and he slapped his head with a cry that made the little man beside him turn in a hurry and stare.
“This is just great. Just great! Now what am I supposed to do. Everything was on that i-phone. How am I supposed to get internet access without it? I can’t get on facebook, or on twitter. I can’t even work on the case I’ve got now. Ugh!” Growing frantic Chester grasped his blonde hair with both hands and growled. He stomped his foot in vexation. “This is not a vacation, this is . . . is . . . plain torture! I’ve got to have that phone!”
The other man tried to encourage him. “Well, it is only for a few days. Why don’t you just relax and try to enjoy this break?”
“Look, E-bay, you obviously have no clue what that i-phone was. I mean it had everything on it!”
“Your gear wasn’t on there.” The logical statement only seemed to make Chester Reginald Donavan, Esq., more disgusted than before, for he answered sarcastically,
“Okay, so my gear wasn’t on there. Big deal. I suppose I should be glad I have water in my canteen.”
His companion nodded. “That’s an important part of camping out.”
Chester fought to get his temper under control before he said, “E-bay, or whatever your name is, I know you probably think I’m nuts, but really, I don’t know what I’m going to do now. I’ll be bored stiff if I have to go for three days without the internet!” He shrugged as he tried to express himself in words that maybe his companion could understand. “It’s my life. Everything is online. Even all my files and research for this case I have coming up.” He sighed.
“Well, no use crying over spilled milk,” the little E-bay man remarked sagely. “Shall we continue on and try to find a good spot to settle down for the night?”
“Might as well.” There was no spirit in Chester’s words; indeed he hardly seemed to notice as they set off down the other side of the mountain. His mind was still raging over his stupidity, his idiocy, his dumbness. He called himself all kinds of names, many of which it wouldn’t do to repeat. Finally he began to lecture and chide himself, saying this ought to teach him a good lesson to never leave his i-phone anywhere but in his pocket or pouch again. So busy was he with his thoughts that, had his companion not grabbed his arm, he would have continued walking, right off the edge of a cliff!

“Wake up, Chester! Bring your mind back to earth or you’ll wind up trying to fly.”
Chester started and stared in horror at the yawning chasm before him. “Hey thanks, E-bay! Yah, I guess you’re right. I should pay attention.” He gave a shudder and turned away. “So what do we do?”
“Well, first thing is to find a place to pitch our tents.”
“Right. Uh, where would that be?” Chester was expecting, when he signed up for this trip, to find their campsite like those he had seen as a boy. Of course he had always stayed in a camper and never in a tent, but still, he had seen the places for tents.
The little E-bay man spoke again. “First we need to find a good source of water. I think we should head up this direction as I’ve been hearing a stream for several minutes.”
Chester merely nodded. He didn’t voice his thoughts. Why did they need to find a stream? Didn’t all campsites have water? At least a pump if not faucets.

It was a good fifteen minutes at least by Chester Donavon's watch before his companion halted and, looking about him with a satisfied air, declared, “I think this is a perfect spot.”
Gazing around, Chester looked in vain for the water pump. At last he asked, “How are we going to get water, there is no pump?”
“Pump? Of course there is no pump. This is the wilderness up here, Chester. It isn’t some local camping site for city folks. This is the real thing. We get water from the stream. Of course we’ll have to boil or filter it before we use it, but who cares, right?”
The young lawyer’s mouth dropped open, but for perhaps the first time in his life, he was speechless. In silence he followed his companion’s directions about getting a fire ring set up so that they could start a fire. Then digging in his gear to pull out his tent, he noticed for the two dozenth time that his feet were killing him.

“How about I go get some water while you set up your tent?” E-bay called over to him after his own tent was set up.
“Sure.” Chester was shaking his head. Now how in the world was he supposed to get all these pieces together to make his tent work? After messing with it all for several minutes, he finally pulled out the directions. “Hmmm,” he muttered. “Okay, doesn’t seem too hard. Here goes.” So saying, he set the paper down and began to push and pull, tug and tighten the poles, loops, knots and so forth that comprised his tent. So intent was he that he didn’t notice the mischievous wind begin to play with the instructions. First it blew it a little to the side, then it tossed it up to let if fall back down and finally with a sudden gust it carried it completely away never to be found again.
When Chester discovered his loss he began to fume and fuss, for without that paper he could never hope to get the tent set up. “E-bay!” he shouted.
“Do you need some help,” a perfectly calm voice replied behind him.
“I guess so,” growled Chester. “My directions blew away and I can’t get this ridiculous thing set up.”
“The wind does like to blow things up here. Have to be careful to put something heavy on the light things or stake them down or we’ll wind up losing ‘em.” The little E-bay man worked as he talked and soon had the small one-man tent set up. “All that needs done now is to stake it down. I usually stake it first, but with this size it doesn’t matter.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Think you can stake it while I go start the supper?”
At Chester’s nod, he walked away leaving his young companion to hammer in the stakes. After hitting his thumb three times to every two he hit the stake, Chester managed to get the first stake in. Then he glanced with dismay at all the stakes still left. “There is no way I need that many stakes,” he mumbled to himself. “Besides, I don’t have that many thumbs left. If I just put one on the opposite corner I should be fine. I mean it can’t blow away because I’ll be in it.”

In a minute he was done and leaving his pack in the tent he limped over to the fire with his mess kit.
“All set up?”
“Yah.”
“Well the food’s ready. Dig in.”
Chester needed no second invitation for he was ravenous after hiking all day. He did notice the momentary pause and bowing of the head of his companion, however, and thought, “Great, not only is he some E-bay freak but also a religious nut no doubt.” Then he shrugged and continued eating.

Finally both men were satisfied, and their cooking and eating dishes having been cleaned, they were packed away in their packs again. The sun was setting in the west and one by one the stars were beginning to show themselves to the two solitary beings on the mountain. A cold wind blew down upon them as they sat before the fire. Chester shivered in his windbreaker and sighed.
“If it weren’t for my feet hurting so much I’d go dig out my coat.”
“Here,” The little E-bay man tossed a jacket to him. “I always carry an extra one just in case it is needed. What’s wrong with your feet?”
Chester put on the jacket, though it was rather a snug fit, and immediately felt the difference as the wind could no longer get through to him. “Blisters.”
“Take your boots off. It won’t hurt you to walk the short way to your tent without them. Besides you should be careful about blisters. They are mighty uncomfortable if they get infected.”
Chester followed this advice and then sat toasting his stocking feet before the flickering flames of the camp fire.
“E-bay,” he finally asked, “What do you do?”
The little man laughed. “You know I rather like that name you’ve given me. It kind of fits. I’m a teacher in a local high school back home, and as a hobby I buy and sell on E-bay. In fact that is where I got most of my gear. It saves money if you know how to use it right. And what about you? Did I hear you say something about having a case?”
“Yah, I’m a lawyer. Just passed the bar six months ago. I’ve won every case I’ve tried. Of course they were easy. I don’t know why they even bothered going to court about them, but it gave me some easy dough.” Chester yawned. He hadn’t noticed it before but he was really tired. More tired than he remembered being for a very long time. In fact, he was so tired he didn’t even remember his missing i-phone.
The little E-bay man also yawned and stretching asked, “What say we turn in for the night?”
“Great idea!”

How long he had slept Chester Reginald Donavan, Esq., had no idea. Undoubtedly it had been for some hours, but he was so exhausted he never stirred until he was startled awake by something falling on top of him. For a moment he tried to realize where he was, then it hit him. He was camping in the mountains. Then what had fallen? He could hear the wind roaring and could feel a small cold draft coming from a crack in the top of his sleeping bag. He didn’t want to stir from his cozy, warm nest, but he had to know what had happened. In a dazed, still half-asleep manner he wriggled and squirmed and tried to sit up. That is when he discovered to his great amazement that he couldn’t do it. Instantly he was wide awake. Reaching out a hand he could feel the cold nylon sides of the tent on either side and Great Scott! It was over his sleeping bag too! His tent had fallen down! Where was his flashlight? He knew it had to be somewhere for he had had it when he went to bed. In his frantic searching he soon became all twisted up in his sleeping bag, and he still couldn’t find the flashlight. The roaring of the wind sounded to him like a vicious beast about to attack. Where was that light? He felt himself growing panicked. “Stay calm,” he whispered, but the very fright in his voice only added to his terror and when his foot, which was somewhere down in the tightly tangled, twisted mess, bumped against something hard, Chester Reginald Donavan, Esq., the great budding lawyer let out a yell so loud that it awakened echoes up and down the mountain side. “E-bay!”

Join us next week for Part 3 to find out what happens.