"If it wasn't for finding that treasure box I'd just as lief stay here for a few days," remarked Tom, on getting up the following morning.
"Ditto myself," came from Sam. "We could have a boss good time, eh?"
"How about it if Nellie and Grace weren't here?" came from Dick, and then dodged a shoe thrown at him by Tom and a pillow sent forth by Sam. "No, boys, it won't do—we must leave for the hunt to-day. Why, there may be a million in it."
"That's right, Dick; when you fly, fly high," said Tom. "That Frenchman never had a million. If he had a couple of thousand he'd be lucky."
"And of course, a couple of thousand is of no importance to us," put in Sam grandiloquently.
"All right; I'll go on the hunt alone."
"No, Dick, of course we'll go," said Tom hastily. "When do you want to start?"
"As soon as Mr. Barrow can get off."
But, in spite of Dick's anxiety to get off, the start was delayed for a whole day, much to Tom and Sam's secret joy. John Barrow had to go to Timber Run for things needed in the house by his wife and daughter.
When he returned there was a broad grin on his face.
"I've got news for you," he said to Dick, who had followed him down to the barn. "There's another party arrived at Timber Run on the hunt fer that treasure of old Goupert's."
"Another party. Who is it?"
"Didn't hear their names. There are two men and a young fellow o' nineteen or twenty. They have hired Bill Harney fer a guide, and are goin' to strike out fer the Pond to-morrow."
"Two men and a young fellow," mused Dick. "I'd like to know who they are."
"One o' the men looked like a preacher or schoolmaster. He called the young feller Thacher, or something like that."
"It wasn't Baxter?" queried Dick, struck by a sudden idea.
"That's the name—now I remember."
"And the man, did they call him Grinder—Jasper Grinder?" went on Dick excitedly.
"If it wasn't Grinder, it was something like it. The party came east from Ithaca."
"It's Dan Baxter and Jasper Grinder sure!" burst out Dick. "Well, this beats the nation."
"Then you know the crowd?"
"I do—to my sorrow, Mr. Barrow. That Dan Baxter is the good-for-nothing young fellow I told you of this morning, and Jasper Grinder was a teacher at the Hall. We had a big row with him and he was kicked out in a hurry by Captain Putnam. They are our enemies."
"Humph! That promises to make it interesting for you. But it's queer they should come up at the same time you're here," went on the lumberman thoughtfully.
"I might as well let you into a secret, Mr. Barrow. Will you promise to keep it entirely to yourself?"
"Certainly, lad, if it's an honest secret."
"It is honest," answered Dick, and thereupon told of the adventure on Needle Point Island and of the map on the table, and how it had disappeared, and of the finding of the second map in the brass-lined money casket later on.
"I am sure Dan Baxter has that other map," he concluded. "He wants that treasure as badly as we do."
"Then I allow as how it will be a nip-an'-tuck race between you," returned John Barrow. "The fust to get there will be the best man. O' course, with that map it ought to be plain enough sailin'."
"I thought it would be, but it will mix us up, now you say that Bear Pond empties into Perch River in several places. We'll have to try one place after another."
"Do your directions start from that p'int?"
"Yes."
"Then we'll have to find the right emptyin' place, that's all. My advice is to start fer the spot to-morrow early."
So it was arranged, and Dick called Tom and Sam down to the barn to talk it over. It was late in the afternoon, and all worked until after the supper hour in preparing for the start.
"It's a good twenty miles' tramp from here," said John Barrow, "and we'll have to climb two pretty steep mountains to get to the spot."
"Why can't we follow the stream up?" asked Tom. "That would be easier than tramping up the mountains."
"By the river the way is at least forty miles, and there are half a dozen rough spots where you'd have to walk a mile or two."
"We have our skates," said Sam. "Skating would be easier than walking, and pulling the sleds on the ice would be child's play."
"Well, I allow as how I wouldn't mind skatin' myself," said John Barrow thoughtfully. "I never thought of that before. If you want to, we can try that trail. We can take to the mountain any time, if we find skating no good."
So it was arranged that they should strike out for Bear Pond by way of the river, and the sleds, of which there were two, were packed accordingly, and the boys saw to it that their skates were well sharpened and otherwise in good condition.
"When you're skating, you want to look out for air holes," was John Barrow's caution. "Fer where the river runs between the mountains it is mighty deep in spots, I can tell you that!"
"Thanks, I'll be on my guard," answered Tom, with a shiver. "I've had all I want of icy baths this winter."
The girls were sorry to see the boys leave so quickly, but were consoled when Tom promised to stay longer on the return. On the following morning breakfast was had at six o'clock, and by seven they were off, everybody wishing them a good time. Only Mrs. Barrow knew that the boys were on a treasure, and not a bird and wild animal, hunt.
It was a clear, frosty day and everybody was in the best of spirits. The boys wore fur caps and warm clothing, and each was provided with either a rifle or a shot-gun. So far they had seen but little game around the farm, but John Barrow assured them that the timber and mountains were full of game of all sorts.
"I wonder what route Dan Baxter's party took," said Dick, as they gained the river, and stopped to put on their skates.
"I didn't hear what route they took," answered their guide. "I reckon they went straight over the mountains. I don't believe as how Bill Harney takes to skating."
"Is this Bill Harney a good sort?" asked Tom. "If he is, I can tell you he has got into bad company."
"Bill isn't so bad when he's sober. It's when he gits full o' rum that he makes things lively. He's a great drinker."
They were soon on the river, which at this point was fifty to sixty feet wide. The snow covered a large portion of the surface, but the wind had cleared many a long stretch, and they skated on these, dragging the sleds behind them. Each sled was packed high with the camping outfit, but they ran along readily.
"I wonder how long we'll be out," said Sam, as he skated by Tom's side.
"I guess that will depend upon what luck we have, Sam. If we strike the right spot first clip we ought to be back inside of five or six days."
As the party moved up the river they found the stream wound in and out between the mountains On either side were bare rocky walls or dense patches of timber, with here and there a tiny open space, now piled deep with snowdrifts.
"I see some rabbits ahead!" cried Tom presently. "Wonder if I can bring them down," he added, as he unslung his gun. But long before he could take aim the bunnies were out of sight amid the timber.
"You'll have to carry your gun in your hand for a shot at them," came from Dick. "But be careful, or you may trip up on some frozen twig and shoot somebody."
Mile after mile was passed, but no further game came to view, much to Tom's disgust.
"Not much right around here," said John Barrow, as he saw Tom put his gun back over his shoulder. "The boys from Timber Run have cleared the ground putty well. But you'll see something sure a little further on—and maybe more'n you bargain for."
"I'm not afraid of big game, Mr. Barrow. We faced some pretty bad animals when we were in Africa and out West."
"I allow that must be so, Tom. But you want to be careful even so. A big mountain deer or a bear aint to be fooled with, I can tell you that."
About eleven o'clock they came to the first falls above Timber Run. Here the water was frozen into solid masses, but the way was so uneven they found it profitable to take off their skates and "tote" the sleds around the spot. This necessitated a walk of several hundred feet through the timber skirting the edge of the river. The way was uncertain, and John Barrow went ahead, to steer the party clear of any danger.
"Finest timber in the world right here," he observed. "I can't see why the timber company don't get together and put it in the market. It would fetch a good price."
"Wait! I see something in yonder trees!" cried Dick, in a low voice. "Can you make out what they are?"
"Wild turkeys!" answered the guide. "Git down behind these bushes. If we can bag a few of them, we'll have rich eatin' for a few days!"
Without delay the Rover boys dropped behind the bushes, and John Barrow did the same. All kept as quiet as possible, for they knew that on the first alarm the wild turkeys would be off.
The game was not over six feet from the ground, sitting in three rows on as many branches of a hemlock that overhung the stream. There were over a dozen in the flock, each as plump as wild turkeys ever get.
"How shall we fire?" asked Dick. "There is no call for all of us to shoot at the same bird."
"I'll take one on the left," answered John Barrow. "You take one on the right. Tom can take a middle one sitting high, and Sam a middle one sitting low. All ready?"
"Yes," came the answer, from one after another.
"Then fire when I say three. One, two—three!"
Bang! bang! went the firearms, and as the reports echoed through the forest, two of the wild turkeys were seen to drop dead under the branches upon which they had been sitting. One, that was badly wounded, fluttered down and began to thrash around in the brush. The rest of the flock flew away with a rush and were lost to sight between the trees.
"Three! That isn't so bad!" cried Dick, as they all started on a run forward. Soon they had the turkey on the ground surrounded, and John Barrow caught up the game and wrung its neck.
"I guess I missed my mark," came rather sheepishly from Tom.
"You!" exclaimed Sam, in surprise. "I was just going to say I had missed."
"Nobody missed," put in the guide.
"Nobody?" came from the three Rovers.
"Somebody must have missed," added Tom. "We fired four shots and only got three birds."
"One of those that flew off was wounded. He dropped a lot of feathers and went up in a shaky fashion. Of course, he got away, but just the same, he was hit."
"Well, I thought I missed clean and clear," said Tom doubtfully.
"And I thought I missed," laughed Sam. "I guess we'll have to divide that third bird between us, Tom."
"We've got all the wild-turkey meat we'll want on this trip," came from John Barrow. "Before this is gone, you'll want a change, I'll warrant you."
While the guide was caring for the birds the boys went back for the sleds. Soon they were again on the way, and they did not stop until the vicinity of the falls was left far behind and they had again reached a point where skating would be good for several miles.
"Reckon we can stop here and have dinner," observed the guide. "Feelin' kind o' hungry, aint you?"
"Just guess I am hungry," declared Tom "But I didn't want to say anything till the rest did."
Some of the cooking utensils were unpacked, and while the boys got wood for the fire, John Barrow brought out some coffee and other things. It was decided that they should not take time to cook a turkey until they went into camp for the night.
Soon a fire was blazing merrily. They built it under the outer end of a long tree limb, and from the limb suspended a pot full of water by a long iron chain they had brought along. As the ground was covered with snow, there was little danger of spreading a conflagration. Soon the water was boiling and the guide made a steaming pot of coffee, which was passed around in tin cups, with sugar and a little condensed milk. They had brought along bread, cheese, chipped beef, and boiled eggs, and also a mince pie which Mrs. Barrow had baked the day before, and these made what Tom declared was a famous dinner.
"No sauce like hunger sauce," laughed John Barrow, as he saw the lads stow the food away. "Once I was trampin' the mountains all day without a mouthful when I chanced to look in a corner o' my game bag and found a slice o' bread, at least two weeks old. I ate that bread up, hard as it was, and nuthin' ever tasted sweeter."
"You're right," returned Dick. "The folks in the city who don't know what to get to tickle their appetite ought to go hungry a few times. Then I'm sure they'd appreciate what they got."
The midday meal finished, they lost no time in repacking the sled load and starting up the river once more. The stream was now wider than before, and presently spread out into a small lake.
"This is known as Tillard's Pond," said John Barrow. "Feller named Gus Tillard built his cabin over yonder, about ten years ago. He went out bar-huntin' one day, and Mr. Bar came along and chewed him up."
"Gracious! Then there must be pretty ugly customers in this vicinity," exclaimed Sam, with a shiver.
"Not so many as there used to be. After Tillard's death the boys over to the Run organized a b'ar hunt, and we brought in six o' the critters. Reckon thet scart the others—leas'wise no b'ars showed up fer a long while after."
Out on Tillard's Pond a stiff breeze was blowing, and consequently their progress was not as rapid as it had been, nor were any of them as warm as formerly.
"We're going to have a cold first night, I can tell you that," said Dick, and his prediction proved true. By the time the sun sank to rest behind the mountain in the west it was "snapping cold," as Tom expressed it. The wind increased until to go forward was almost impossible.
"I know a pretty good place to rest in," said the guide. "It isn't over quarter of a mile from here. If we can make that we'll be all right till mornin'."
John Barrow led the way, pulling one of the sleds, and the boys followed. Poor Sam was getting winded and skated only with the greatest of difficulty.
It was dark when they reached the location the guide had in mind—a rocky wall on one side of the river. At one point there was a split in the rocks. This was overgrown at the top with cedars and brushwood, forming something of a cave, ten or twelve feet wide and twice as deep, the bottom of which was of rock and fairly smooth.
"I camped here two winters ago," said John Barrow, as he called a halt. "I laced up the cedars above and they formed a fust-rate roof."
"I guess they are pretty well laced still," observed Dick. "They seem to hold the snow very well. But we won't dare to make a fire in there."
"We'll build a fire in front, in this hollow, Dick. That will throw a good deal of hot air into the place, and if we wrap ourselves in our blankets we'll be warm enough."
Everyone in the party was anxious to get out of the nipping wind, and they lost no time in entering the "cave," as Sam called it. The entrance was low, and by placing the two sleds in an upright position on either side they left an opening not over a yard wide. Directly in front of this the boys started a roaring fire, cutting down several dwarf cedars for that purpose.
"I don't much like the looks o' the sky to-night," observed John Barrow, after preparing one of the turkeys for cooking.
"Do you think there is a storm coming?" asked Tom.
"Looks to me like snow, an plenty of it."
"I hope it doesn't come until we reach Bear Pond," said Dick, "I don't want Dan Baxter and his crowd to get ahead of us."
"They won't have no better time o' it than we'll have," was the guide's grim comment. "Aint no fun trampin' over the mountains with the snow comin' down heavily; I can tell you that."
The wind continued to increase, and after the supper was cooked and brought into the shelter, the guide took it upon himself to bank the fire with great care, that it might not blow into the forest and start a big conflagration.
"We've had some terrible fires here," he said. "One threatened my barn two years ago, and we had to stay out two days an' a night a-fightin' it. It would be a bad thing a night like this."
To keep out the cold, Dick crawled to the top of the opening and bound in the cedar limbs closer than ever. He also got some brush-wood and some vines, and on these placed a thick layer of snow.
"That's fine!" cried Sam, from below. "It's almost as tight as the roof of a cabin."
Tightening the roof made a big difference inside, and when they had hung up a blanket behind the upright sleds, and placed some cedar brush on the floor, it was very cozy. They had brought along some candles, and one of these was lit and placed in a lantern which was in one of the packs. It was not a bright light, but it was better than sitting in the dark, and it seemed to make the shelter warmer than ever.
One of the turkeys was finished even to the neck piece, and then both Tom and Sam declared that they were so sleepy they could scarcely keep their eyes open.
"It must be the mountain air," said Dick. "I'm sleepy, too. Let us turn in."
"Will anybody have to stand watch?" asked Sam.
At this John Barrow shook his head. "Don't know as it's necessary," he said. "Reckon we're safe enough. I'll keep my gun handy, in case any animal prowls around."
The boys laid down and were soon in the land of dreams. Tom and Sam slept near the back wall, with Dick next, and the guide near the opening, which, however, was now completely closed by the blanket. The fire was allowed to die down, for they did not dare to build it up, with such a wind blowing.
Nothing came to disturb them. Once during the night Dick roused up and heard the distant howling of a wolf. But the beast did not venture close to the shelter, and while waiting for its appearance the youth dropped asleep again.
By midnight the wind fell a little, and then it began to snow, and it was still snowing when John Barrow leaped up, pushed the blanket aside, and gazed out upon the river.
"Hullo, we're in for it now!" he cried, and as the boys sat up, he added: "Snowin'—mighty hard, too."
"I should say it was snowing hard!" cried Tom, as he, too, looked out. "Why, you can't see the trees on the other side, and they aren't more than a hundred and fifty feet off."
"This will make traveling bad," said Dick soberly. "It almost looks as if we were going to be snowed in."
"Snowed in?" echoed Sam. "Oh, don't say that!"
The boys were somewhat stiff after their long skate of the day before, and it took them some minutes to pull themselves together. Then the curtain was pushed aside, and the fire started up with some dry brushwood from the pile on which they had slept. Soon breakfast was ready, and this warmed them up and put new life in them.
"No use to linger here," announced the guide. "It won't git no better an' it may git a heap sight worse. I reckon the wind kept some o' the spots on the river clear. I know a good camping spot ten miles from here, and that will be just the place for us while you are huntin' around fer that money."
"Then let us make that camping spot by all means," said Tom. "We mustn't let Baxter get first whack at the treasure."
It was eight o'clock when they started once more on their journey. The air was dull and heavy, and the snow came down in thick flakes, which presently shut out the landscape on all sides. Fortunately the wind had died down entirely, so it was not near so cold as it had been.
"It would be easy enough, if we could stick to the river all the way," remarked. Tom to Sam, as they skated along as best they could.
"Can't we?"
"Mr. Barrow says not. About two miles from here are another falls and a set of rocky rapids, and we'll have to walk around for a distance of nearly a mile through the woods."
What Tom said was true, and the falls were reached less than an hour later. The river was very narrow at this point and lined on both sides with rough rocks. Climbing was difficult, and after crawling along for a few rods the boys halted in dismay.
"We're up against it now," groaned Dick
"Don't be discouraged lads!" came from the guide. "It isn't so bad a short distance further on. Follow me." And he started again, and there was nothing to do but to fall in behind him.
John Barrow and Dick carried one sled, and Tom and Sam, the other. In some places the cedars and brush were so thick that those in advance pushed through only with extreme difficulty.
"Well, we haven't got the task of breaking the way," said Tom, as he and Sam stopped to get their wind. "It's no fool job to break through this thicket."
"We are going up a hill," returned Sam. "We must be getting away from the river."
The guide and Dick had disappeared ahead, and, fearful of losing them, the younger Rovers set off once more. Carrying the heavy sled up the hill was, however, a great task, especially for Sam, and once at the top they had to rest again.
"I believe it would have been just as easy to have kept to the river," declared Tom "See, there it is, to our left."
"It certainly doesn't look very rough down there," was his brother's comment. "Gracious, but Dick and Mr. Barrow plow along like steam engines!" he added. "I can't go so fast."
"We won't hurry, there is no need. The trail is plain enough," said Tom, and so they rested fully quarter of an hour. Then they heard Dick calling to them from a long distance ahead.
"All right; we're coming!" Tom called back. "Just please don't go so awfully fast!"
"We are going to take the trail to the left!" Dick shouted back, but the others did not catch the words.
Tom and Sam advanced now slower than ever, and when they reached a spot where there was an opening to the right and another to the left, the others were not only out of sight, but out of hearing as well. It had now begun to snow more thickly than ever.
"Which way did they take?" questioned Sam, in perplexity.
"Reckon they went this way, Sam."
"It looks to me as if they went the other way. Here are some footprints."
"Here are some footprints, too."
They came to a standstill, more perplexed than ever. Sure enough, there were two sets of footprints, running almost at right angles to each other.
"I guess we've hit somebody else's trail," said Sam. "Dick! Mr. Barrow! Where are you?" he called out.
No answer came back, and then the two boys shouted in chorus. All remained as silent as before.
"Well, this is a mess, to say the least," was Tom's comment. "How are we to know which trail to follow?"
"I move we make a sure thing of it and get down to the river again," was Sam's answer. "Then we'll be certain to be on the right track. As soon as they reach the river they'll wait for us."
This seemed sensible advice, and leaving both trails the boys plunged through the cedar brakes to where they had seen the icy surface of the stream. They had to make several turns, and once Tom lost his footing and rolled over and over in the snow. But at last they gained the smooth ice, and then each breathed a long sigh of relief.
"It's ten times better than climbing around," observed Sam. "The rapids and rocks amount to next to nothing. I don't see why Mr. Barrow gave us all that extra climbing."
"Perhaps the river has changed since he was up here last," said Tom. "Anyway, it's a good bit narrower here than it was further back."
Sliding down the hillside had loosened the load on the sled, and they had to spend a good five minutes in fastening it and mending a strap that had broken. Then several minutes more were consumed in putting on their skates.
"My! how it does snow!" came from Tom, as they started at last. "I can't see fifty feet ahead."
"Nor I, Tom. I really wish we were with Dick and Mr. Barrow."
"So do I, but I guess it's all right."
Forward they pushed, dragging the sled after them. It was rough work, and the ice was often covered too deep with snow to make skating a pleasure.
"It seems to me the river is getting narrower than ever," said Sam. "It's queer, too, for Mr. Barrow said it was quite broad near the lake."
"He said one of the branches was broad, Sam. We must be on a different branch."
"Let us call to them again."
Once more they cried out, at the top of their lungs. But nothing answered them, not even a muffled echo. All was swallowed up in the loneliness of the situation and in the fast falling snow, which now covered even the load on the sled to the depth of an inch or more.
"Come on," said Sam half desperately. "We must catch up to them, sooner or later."
"Perhaps we are ahead of them."
"It isn't likely. Let us go on, anyway."
And on they went, another quarter of a mile. The stream was now broader, and this raised their hopes considerably. But suddenly Tom gave a cry of dismay.
"Look, Sam! We have reached the end of the stream!"
Sam strained his eyes and went on a few feet further. Then he gave a groan. His brother was right, the stream had come to an end in a pond probably a hundred feet in diameter. They had not been following the Perch River at all, but merely a brook flowing into that stream!
"Tom, we have missed it!"
"It looks like it, Sam."
"What we took for the river wasn't the river at all. We must be a mile or two out of the way."
"There is nothing to do but to go back," was the dismal response.
"Don't you think we might strike the river without going back?"
"We might, and then again we might not. I hardly feel like taking the risk—in this blinding snow."
With heavy hearts the brothers turned the sled around and proceeded on the back trail, if such the way may be called. As a matter of fact, the snow had covered their footprints completely.
The wind was now rising again, and it blew directly into their faces. Alarmed more than ever, on this account, they pushed on until poor Sam was almost winded.
"I—I can't go on so fast, no use in trying!" he panted. "I feel ready to drop!"
"I'm fagged out myself," responded Tom. "But, Sam, we can't afford to rest here."
"I know that, but I've got to get my wind back somehow. The wind seems to be awfully strong."
They rested for several minutes, and then pushed on again, Tom dragging the sled alone. It was a bitter journey, and both would have given a good deal to have been with Dick and the guide once more.
"We missed it when we didn't keep up with them in the first place," was Tom's comment. "However, there's no use in crying over spilt milk, as the saying goes. We must make the best of it."
"There isn't any best," grumbled Sam. "It's all worst!" And then Tom laughed, in spite of the seriousness of the situation.
At last they gained the spot where they had first struck the brook, and here they halted again.
"The worst of it is, there is no telling how far this brook runs before it empties into the Perch River," observed Tom. "We may have to go two or three miles out of our way."
"We may as well climb up the hill again, Tom, and try to follow one of those trails."
"Perhaps you are right."
They talked the matter over and at last began to climb the hill, now more difficult than before, since the snow was several inches deeper. It took a long while to gain the top, and still longer to find the spot where they had left the trail.
"Here we are," said Tom, resting on a fallen tree which marked the locality. "Now the all-important question is, which way next?"
"Tom, I believe we are getting lost," came from Sam, in a dismal tone.
"I don't think we're getting lost, Sam; wearelost, no two ways about it. We've got to keep our eyes open and our wits about us, or we'll be getting into a first-class mess."
"It must be almost noon," went on the youngest Rover, and pulled out his watch. "Phew! Half-past twelve!"
"Thought I was hungry. Is there anything in this load good to eat?"
"I don't know. Let us look and see. We can't go on, hungry."
They unstrapped the load and examined it. There were blankets there and some camp utensils, and a box containing crackers, cheese, and chipped beef.
"Crackers and cheese will do on a pinch," said Tom. "Come, we mustn't lose more time than is necessary."
Yet eating and resting was very pleasant, and they spent the best part of half an hour under the sheltering limbs of a big cedar tree. Both were dry, but eating snow did not seem to quench their thirst. The wind increased as they ate, but the snow now came down more lightly.
They decided to strike out on something of a trail running to the northwest. It was hard work hauling and carrying the sled over the rocks and through the bushes, and they often had to halt for breath.
"There goes something!" cried Tom presently. "Sam, did you see it?"
"I saw something, but it disappeared before I could make out what it was."
The object had crossed their path a hundred feet ahead of them. Now it reappeared somewhat closer, and both boys saw that it was a lean and hungry-looking wolf.
"A wolf!" cried Sam.
"Wonder if I hadn't better shoot him," said Tom, unslinging his gun.
"Better save your powder, Tom. I don't believe he'll attack us—at least not while it is light."
"A shot might bring an answering signal from Dick," went on Tom suddenly. "What fools we have been, not to think of that before!"
The wolf kept hidden and Tom did not shoot, expecting to see the beast reappear at any instant. On they went, keeping an eye on the bushes and trees on both sides of them. Once they heard the patter of the wolf's feet on a stretch of bare rocks, but that was all.
"I'll fire a shot, anyway," said Tom at last, and aimed in the direction where they had heard the sounds last. To his intense surprise a yelp and a snarl followed.
"Great Cæsar! I hit him after all," began Tom, and then leaped back. "Look out, Sam, he's coming for us!"
Tom was right. The wolf, wounded in the left flank, had suddenly appeared. His eyes blazed with pain and fury, and he made as if to spring upon the boys.
Tom was in front of the sled and Sam behind it. With a quick leap Tom cleared the load and took up a position beside the youngest Rover.
The wolf made the leap, but stopped short on the top of the load. As he prepared to spring again Tom swung his gun around by the barrel and hit the wolf a smart rap on the head. The animal rolled over on the ground.
"Shoot him, Sam!"
"I will, if I can!" came from Sam, who had now unslung his gun. Taking a quick aim, he fired.
The shot proved a good one, for it took the wolf directly in the neck, just as he was scrambling to rise. Again he gave a yelp, and then began to turn over and over in his intense pain. Of a sudden he leaped up and landed on Tom's shoulder.
For the instant poor Tom thought his last moment had come. But as the beast landed Sam struck it with his gun, and down it went once more, snarling viciously. Then it rolled and tossed until some brush was gained, when it managed to hide itself and crawl away, seriously, if not mortally, wounded.
"He's gone!" came from Sam.
"Well, don't go after him," panted Tom. "Let him go and welcome. I never want to see him again."
"Nor I."
Both reloaded with all haste—having learned years before that it is foolish to remain in the wilds with an empty firearm. Then they waited, to see if the wolf would return.
"Hark!" cried Sam. "Did you hear that shot, Tom?"
"I did. I think it came from that direction." And Tom pointed with his hand.
"I think so myself. It must be Dick or Mr. Barrow, firing."
"More than likely. Let us follow up the shot."
They listened, but no more shots followed, and then they went on, over a stretch which was comparatively smooth and free from brushwood. But though they covered a quarter of a mile they saw nothing either of the river or of their lost companions.
"We're getting lost more than ever," groaned Sam. "I declare I haven't the least idea where we are."
"I'm going to fire another shot," answered his brother, and proceeded to do so.
Both listened with strained ears, and soon an answering shot came back, slightly to the left of the path they had been pursuing.
"Thank fortune, we are getting closer!" cried Sam. "Come on!"
As worn out as they were, they resumed the dragging of the sled through the snow. Once Sam had suggested they abandon the load, but Tom would not hear of this, for he knew they could not very well do without this portion of the outfit.
The wind was blowing heavily, and high overhead they heard the tree-tops creak ominously. Once in a while a tree branch would unload itself, sending down a great mass of snow on their heads. But they pushed on, determined to rest no more until the others of the party should be sighted.
Presently they came to a clearing overlooking a small pond and a stream beyond. At first Tom imagined that this was the pond they had left but a short while before, but a second look showed him that the locality was an entirely new one to them.
"My gracious, Tom! Get out of sight!" came in an excited whisper from Sam, and he pulled his brother down behind a clump of bushes, and then dragged the sled after him.
"What do you see?" demanded Tom.
"Look across the pond. As sure as you are born, there are Dan Baxter and Jasper Grinder. We've been following them instead of Dick and Mr. Barrow!"
What Sam said was true. There, gathered around a fire on the opposite side of the pond, were Dan Baxter, Jasper Grinder, and a tall, powerfully built fellow whom they easily guessed was Bill Harney, the guide. They had two sleds with them, and one of these had been unloaded and the camping outfit lay scattered around.
"Well, this is a surprise and no mistake!" was Tom's comment, in a low voice. "If I know anything about it, they must have done some quick traveling."
"I believe they followed the river, at least part of the way," returned the youngest Rover. "I see a pair of skates lying by one of the sleds."
"Do you suppose Dick and Mr. Barrow met them?"
"I don't believe they did. See, they have some rabbits they are going to cook. That accounts for the shots we heard."
Crouching down behind the bushes, the two Rovers watched the other party with interest. A lively conversation was going oh between Dan Baxter and the former teacher of Putnam Hall, but they were too far off to catch anything of what was said.
"What do you propose doing next?" asked Sam, after a pause of several minutes. "It's mighty cold here."
"We may as well retreat, Sam. We don't want to expose ourselves, do we?"
"I don't suppose it would do any good—although I'm not afraid of Baxter, or Grinder either."
"It isn't that. If they know we have arrived here, they will do all they can to locate that treasure first. We want to keep dark and get ahead of them."
"But how shall we turn?"
"We'll have to go back to where we found the two trails crossed and then try the other one. I don't know of anything else to do."
"Wouldn't Dan Baxter be surprised, if he knew we were so close?"
"Well, we won't let him know."
"Why not?" demanded an unexpected voice from the rear.
Both boys started and turned around, to find themselves confronted by Lemuel Husty, the man Dick had seen in company with Baxter at Cedarville.
"Hullo, who are you?" asked Tom, as quickly as he could recover from his surprise.
"If you want to know real bad, youngster, my name is Lemuel Husty."
"I don't know you."
"But I know you—leas'wise I know of you," went on Husty, with a frown. "You're down on my friend Baxter, aint you?"
"If we are, we have a good reason to be," came from Sam.
"Perhaps you have, and then again, perhaps you haven't. It aint no nice thing to be cotched spying, though."
"We weren't spying. We came up quite by accident."
"You can tell that to the monkeys, but you can't tell it to me," growled Lemuel Husty. Then he raised his voice: "I say, Baxter! I say, you fellows! Come over here!"
The three around the camp-fire looked up in surprise, and were even more surprised when Husty waved his hand for them to come to him.
"What's wanted?" demanded Dan Baxter.
"I've found two of your very intimate friends spying on you," answered Husty.
"I guess we had better get out," whispered Sam to Tom, not liking the turn affairs had taken.
"I'm with you," returned Tom.
"No, you don't!" cried Husty, and caught hold of the sled. "You just stay here until we talk this thing over."
Tom's hands were on his gun, and for the moment he felt like pointing the weapon at the man. But then he concluded that this would do small good, and the weapon remained where it was.
In a minute Dan Baxter came running across the pond, with Jasper Grinder and Bill Harney at his heels. Each of the advancing party carried some sort of firearms.
"Tom and Sam Rover!" ejaculated Baxter, and it was easy to see that he was completely surprised. "How did you get here?"
"Walked and skated," returned Tom, as coolly as he could.
"You've got a nerve to follow me and my party," went on Baxter, with an ugly scowl.
"As I just said to this man, Baxter, we haven't been following you," put in Sam. "We struck your trail by accident. We thought we were following——"
"Never mind about that, Sam," interrupted Tom quickly.
"Who did you think you were following?" demanded Dan Baxter.
"It's none of your business, Baxter. We have as much right to be here as you have."
"Humph! Don't you suppose I know why you came?"
"More than likely you do, and we know why you came."
"Have you got another map?" demanded Baxter, in curiosity.
"It's none of your affair what we have. We stumbled upon you by accident, and if you haven't anything in particular to say to us we'll be going."
"You needn't leave so quickly. Where is Dick?"
"He isn't so very far off."
"You hired John Barrow for a guide, I heard," put in Bill Harney.
"If we did, we had a right to do it," said Sam.
"He don't know these parts as well as he might. If you don't look out he'll lose you in the mountains, and you'll never get home alive."
"Let him lose them," put in Baxter quickly. "It's what they deserve. But, come, it's cold over here. Let's move back to the fire. And I want you two to come along," he added, to the Rovers.
"We don't propose to come along," replied Tom.
"And I say you shall come, Tom Rover. We are four to two, and you had better submit."
"Yes, make them come," put in Jasper Grinder. "I want to have a talk with them." And he glared wickedly, first at Tom and then at Sam.
It must be confessed that Tom and Sam felt in anything but an enviable position. They knew Dan Baxter thoroughly, and knew he would stop at nothing to accomplish his purpose.
"The best thing you can do is to leave us alone," said Tom steadily. "You have always got the worst of the bargain, Dan Baxter, and if you try any game on now, you'll miss it again."
"I'll risk it, Tom Rover. Come now, and no more fooling. If you behave yourself, there won't be any trouble."
There was, then, nothing to do but to follow, for neither of the Rovers wished to lose this portion of the outfit. Soon the whole party were gathered around the fire, which Husty heaped high with brushwood. Back of the fire was a high cliff, topped with cedars, which kept off the wind and made the situation a fairly comfortable one.
"Now we had better come to an understanding," said Dan Baxter, as he warmed his hands. "We all know what we are out here for, so there is no use in mincing matters."
"I understand all I want to know," answered Tom briefly.
"So do I," put in Sam.
"Baxter shall settle with you, and then I'll settle," growled Jasper Grinder. "I have not forgotten how I was treated at Putnam Hall because of you."
"It served you right that you were kicked out," said Sam, without stopping to think twice.
"Ha! you dare to talk to me in this fashion!" roared the former teacher. "I'll teach you a lesson! Just wait till I find a good switch!"
"Hold on Grinder! one at a time," put in Dan Baxter. "I'll settle with them first, if you please."
"They deserve a thorough thrashing," grumbled the irate man.
"Now I want you to tell me the truth," went on Dan Baxter, addressing Tom and Sam. "Where did you get a map of that treasure? In the cave on that island?"
"We haven't said we had a map," returned Tom.
"But you must have a map—or something like it."
"Whatever we have, it's none of your business, Dan Baxter," broke in Sam.
"Shut up, you little imp! Don't you know you are in my power!" stormed Baxter, in a rage. "I can do as I please out here, and these three men will help me."
As he finished he caught Sam by the collar and began to shake him.
"Let my brother alone!" ejaculated Tom. "Let up, I say!"
"I won't, Tom Rover. He's got to learn that I'm the master here," howled Baxter.
"If you don't let go, I'll hit you," went on Tom, and raised his right fist. But ere he could deliver the blow Bill Harney rushed behind him, caught him by the waist and threw him flat.
"That's right!" shouted Dan Baxter. "Make them both prisoners! I've got a big score to settle with them!"
And then all four fell upon Sam and Tom, and a fierce struggle ensued, the outcome of which was for some time hard to predict.