Tom and his companion went home, fully determined that if they lived to see the dawn of another day, Silas should find the wished-for letter in his wood-pile.
They took one night to "sleep on it," and make up their minds just what they wanted to say to him, and bright and early the next morning they went to work.
By their united efforts they finally produced the letter which we laid before the reader in the third chapter; but they were a long time about it. Every sentence and suggestion had to be weighed and discussed at length, and it was when Tom remarked that he would like to see the upshot of the whole matter, that a bright idea suddenly occurred to Bob.
"We can stay up there to-morrow, and see what he will do when he finds the letter," observed the latter, "but we can't run to the top of the Summerdale hills every day to watch him go after the money, can we? It's too far, and— Say, Tom, let's ask Uncle Hallet to make us his game-wardens."
"Oh, let's!" exclaimed Tom, who was always ready for anything that had a spice of novelty or adventure in it. "Of course, we shall have to live up there in the woods, the same as Mr. Warren's man does."
"To-be-sure. Then we shall be right onthe ground, and it will be but little trouble for us to keep track of Morgan's movements. If he tries to find the cave, we may be on hand to give him a scare."
"Well, that's a black horse of another color," said Tom, looking down at the floor, in a deep study. "Silas Morgan never goes into the woods without his double-barrel for company, and he is so sure a shot that I don't think it would be quite safe for the spectre of the cave to materialize while he is around."
Bob hadn't thought of that before, nor did he stop to think of it now, because it was a matter that could be settled at some future time. It was enough for him to know that Tom was strongly in favor of the rest of his scheme, and the two posted off to find Uncle Hallet, and see what he thought about it.
The result of the conference they held with him, so far as it was reached that day, we have already chronicled. We must now hasten on and tell what happened in and around the Summerdale hills after Silas found and lost the letter, and Dan got hold it.
Tom's map having been duly examined and approved, and Bob's letter read and commented upon, the latter folded them both up together and placed them in an envelope, which he sealed with a vigorous blow of his fist.
"I suppose it ought to have a stamp on it, in order to make it look ship-shape," said he, "but I haven't got two cents to waste in addition to the time and exhausting mental effort I have spent upon the production of this interesting and important communication. I ought to put a hint of its contents upon the envelope, I should think."
"By all means," answered Tom. "Print anything that occurs to you, so long as it will excite his curiosity and impel him to a further examination. How does this strike you: 'Notisto the lucky person in to whose han's this dockyment may hapen to fall.' That sounds all right, doesn't it? Well, put it down, and then add something about the 'hant' that watches over the cave."
For a few minutes Bob's pen moved rapidly, and at last he drew a long breath of relief and slammed the blotting-paper over what he had written.
"It's done, I'm glad to say, and the next time we find it necessary to communicate with Mr. Morgan, or with any other gentleman who has not gone deep enough into the arcana of letters to be able to read good, honest writing, we'll hire a cheap boy to do the printing for us. Now, what shall we take besides our lunch? I don't want to carry my breech-loader up to the top of the mountains for nothing. I know it weighs only seven and a quarter pounds, but I'll think it weighs a hundred before I get back."
"If you will sling your pocket-rifle case over your shoulder, I'll take my little tackle-box, and then we shall be fully equipped," replied Tom. "We'll be sure to get a youngsquirrel or two while we are going by the corn-field, and I know a stream in which there are still a few trout to be found."
Acting upon his friend's advice, Bob put the letter into his pocket, and picked up the neat leather case in which his little rifle reposed, while Tom seized his tackle-box and led the way to the kitchen.
A few minutes later they left the house, with a substantial lunch stowed away in a fish-basket which Tom carried under his arm, and bent their steps toward Silas Morgan's wood-pile, where they arrived after an hour's fatiguing walk up the mountain.
The first thing in order was a reconnaissance in force, followed by a careful inspection of the ground, both of which satisfied them that they had reached the spot in ample time to carry out all the details of their scheme. The wheel-marks in the ground were not fresh, and neither were the footprints, and this proved that the ferryman had not yet been up after his daily load of wood.
"He is later than usual," said Bob. "I hope nothing has happened to keep him away,for I wouldn't miss being around when he gets the letter for anything. It will be as good as a circus."
"There he comes now!" exclaimed Tom, as a series of dismal wails arose from the valley below. "Don't you hear the creaking of his wagon? Shove the letter into the end of this stick, and then we'll dig out for the place where we ate lunch yesterday. We can hear and see everything from there."
Bob hastily complied with his friend's suggestion, inserting the letter into a crack in a protruding stick in so conspicuous a position that Silas would be sure to see it, if he made any use whatever of his eyes, and then the two boys betook themselves to their hiding-place behind the evergreens.
In due time the ferryman came in sight. He was clinging with both hands to the hind end of the wagon, and if he had let go his hold he would, beyond a doubt, have rolled clear back to the bottom of the hill, not being possessed of sufficient life and energy to stop himself.
Whenever the horse halted for a shortrest, which he did as often as the idea occurred to him, Silas raised no objections, but leaned heavily upon the wood-rack and rested, too, talking earnestly to himself all the while.
He was so long in reaching the wood-pile that the boys became very impatient; but when he got there and found the letter, the fright and excitement he exhibited, and the extraordinary contortions he went through, amply repaid them for their long waiting.
Bob's prediction, that "it would be as good as a circus," was abundantly verified. They observed every move he made, and heard every word he said. They were especially delighted to see him climb the wood-pile, and reach over and take possession of the letter; and when he snatched up the knotted reins and fell upon the horse with his hickory, because the animal would not move in obedience to his whispered commands, Bob caught Tom around the neck with both arms, and the two rolled on the ground convulsed with merriment.
When they recovered themselves sufficiently to get up and look through the evergreensagain, they saw Silas disappearing around the first turn in the road; but he was in sight long enough for them to take note of the fact that he was stepping out at a much livelier rate than they had seen him accomplish for many a day. When the trees hid him from view, Tom and Bob sat down on the ground and looked at each other.
"Well," said the former, wiping the tears from his eyes, "so far so good. Now, what comes next?"
"Nothing more of this sort to-day; at least I hope not," answered Bob. "I couldn't stand another such a laughing spell right away, unless I could give full vent to my feelings. I thought I should split when I heard Silas say that he didn't know whether or not he could get his consent to touch that letter."
Silas being safely out of hearing by this time, there was no longer any reason why Bob should restrain his risibilities, and he gave way to a hearty peal of laughter, in which Tom joined with much gusto.
"It was when he went through his antics on top of the wood-pile that I came thenearest losing control of myself," said the latter, as soon as he could speak. "I didn't suppose that there was so much ignorance and superstition in this whole country as that man has given us proof of this day."
And neither did Tom imagine that while he and Bob were writing that letter, "just for the fun of the thing," they were setting in motion a series of events which were destined to create the greatest excitement far and near, and to come within a hair's-breadth of ending in something very like a tragedy.
It was a long time before the boys had their laugh out. Tom, who was an incomparable mimic, went through the whole performance again, for his own delectation as well as for Bob's benefit, reaching for invisible letters, and climbing imaginary wood-piles, and so perfectly did he imitate the ferryman's actions, and even the tones of his voice, that Bob at last jumped to his feet, slung his rifle over his shoulder, and hastened away, declaring that he could not stand it any longer.
The first thing the two friends did, after they became sobered down so that they coulddo anything, was to retrace their steps to the corn-field, where they hoped to secure an acceptable addition to the lunch that was in Tom's creel.
Nor were they disappointed; the game they sought was out in full force; Bob's diminutive rifle spoke twice in quick succession, and two young squirrels, after being neatly dressed and wrapped in buttered tissue-paper, were placed in the basket with the lunch.
Then the boys went in quest of the trout stream of which Tom had spoken. When Bob got down to it, and saw what a place it was in, he did not wonder that there were still a few fish to be found in it. On the contrary, he wondered if there had ever been any taken out of it. He had never seen an angler, no matter how enthusiastic and long-winded he might be, who would willingly stumble through five miles of trackless woods, climb over as many miles of tangled wind-fall, and scramble down the almost perpendicular side of that deep gorge, for the sake of catching a few trout, and he did not hesitate to tell Tom so.
"Wait till you see the beauty I am goingto snatch out from under that log in less than a minute after I drop in my hook," said the latter, who carried his open knife in his hand, and was looking about among the bushes for a pole to take the place of the split bamboo he had left at home. "But you needn't grumble, young man. You may see the day when you will be willing to tramp farther than this to have the pleasure of depositing a single trout in your creel."
"When things get as bad as that I won't go trout-fishing," said Bob, in reply. "I'll take it out on black bass in the lake. Besides, these trout are not at all high-toned. They don't know enough to take a fly, and there's no fun in fishing with any other bait."
"We're not looking for fun now; we're after our dinner," answered Tom, who, having found a pole to suit him, was kicking the bark off a decayed log in search of a grub to put on his hook. "Would it inconvenience you to stir around and get a fire going? You might as well have your scales ready, too; there's a trout under that log that weighs about— There he is!"
Sure enough, there he was.
While Tom was speaking he dropped his hook into the water, and before the white grub on it had sunk out of sight, it was seized by a monster trout, which turned and started for the bottom with it, only to find himself yanked unceremoniously out of his native element, and by a dexterous movement of his captor's wrist, landed at Bob's feet on the opposite bank.
"I haven't elbow-room for any display of science in handling fish," said Tom, as his companion unhooked the prize and quieted his struggles by a blow on the head with the handle of his heavy knife. "Main strength and awkwardness are what do the business in these tangled thickets. What do the scales say in regard to his weight?"
"A pound and nine ounces," replied Bob. "Now suppose you hand over that pole and see if I can catch one to match him."
Tom, who was quite willing to comply, jumped across the brook and set to work to kindle a fire and get the dinner going, while Bob took the rod and threaded his waythrough the thick bushes toward another promising hole which his friend told him of, farther up the stream.
He was not gone more than twenty minutes, and when he came back he brought with him three trout, one of which was larger and heavier than Tom's.
Bob could easily have taken more but did not do it, because he knew that he and Tom could not dispose of them. He knew, too, that they would be a drug in the home market, Uncle Hallet having often declared that he had eaten so many trout since Bob came to his house that it was all he could do to keep from jumping into every puddle of water he saw.
The boys were adepts at forest cookery, and hungry enough to do full justice to their dinner.
When the meal was over, the only dish they had to wash was the small tin basin in which their tea was made, the squirrels and trout having been broiled over the coals on three-pronged sticks cut from the neighboring bushes.
After an hour's rest they put out the fire by drenching it with water, which they dipped from the brook with their drinking-cups.
Bob often paused in his work to look up at the high bank above, which was so steep that the top seemed to hang over the bed of the stream, and finally he declared that it would take so much of his breath and strength to get up there that he wouldn't have any left to carry him over the five miles of wind-fall that lay between the gorge and Silas Morgan's wood-pile.
"Well, then, we'll follow the brook," said Tom. "It will take us to the lake, if we stick to it long enough, or we can turn out of the gorge when we reach the place where our robber's cave is supposed to be located. What kind of traveling we shall find I don't know, for I have never been down this gulf; but I do know that we shall have farther to walk than if we go back the way we came."
Bob at once declared his preference for the "water route," reminding his companion that the longest way around is often the shortest way home.
He felt relieved after that, for he dreaded the almost impassable wind-fall over which his tireless friend had led him a few hours before; but whether or not it was worse than some things that happened as the result of his decision, and which he was destined to encounter before the winter was over remains to be seen.
The traveling in the gorge was quite as difficult as the two friends expected to find it. The bushes on each side were so thick that they could not walk on the bank, and the bed of the stream was covered with rocks and boulders, over which they slipped and stumbled at every step.
Now and then the way was obstructed by deep, dark pools which would have gladdened the eye of an angler, for it is in such places that the "sockdolagers" of the brook abide. But Tom and his companion looked upon them as so many obstacles that were to be overcome with as little delay as possible.
They floundered through them without stopping to see how deep they were, and before they had left their camp half a milebehind, their high rubber boots were full of water.
The gorge was beginning to grow dark when Tom, after taking a survey of the bank over his head, announced that they were just about opposite Silas Morgan's wood-pile, and that it was time for them to find a place to climb out.
"I am overjoyed to hear it," said Bob, seating himself on the nearest boulder. "But it's going to be hard work to get up there, the first thing you know, because we've got several pounds more weight to carry than we had when we started. This is worse than the windfall."
While Bob was resting, Tom walked slowly down the gorge, hoping to find a spot where the bushes were not so thick, and the bank easy of ascent; but before he had gone a dozen yards, his footsteps were arrested by an occurrence that was as startling as it was unexpected.
The thicket in front of him was suddenly and violently agitated, and an instant afterward there arose from it the mostblood-curdling sound the boys had ever heard. An Indian war-whoop could not compare with it—they were certain of that. It was not a shriek, a laugh or a groan, but it was a combination of all three; and it was so loud and penetrating that the echoes caught it up and repeated it, until the hideous sound seemed to fill the air all around them.
Tom came to a sudden standstill, and the face he turned toward his companion was as white as a sheet.
Bob was frightened, too, but he retained his wits and his power of action, and his first thought was to put a safe distance between himself and the thing, whatever it was, that could make a noise like that.
Without saying a word he arose from his seat, dived into the bushes and began scrambling up the bank. How he got to the top he never knew (he afterward affirmed that in some places the bank was as straight up and down as the side of a house), but he reached it in an incredibly short space of time, and turned about to find Tom close at his heels.
"What in the name of sense and TomWalker was it?" panted Bob, pulling out his handkerchief and mopping his forehead, on which the perspiration stood in great beads.
"I give it up," gasped Tom. "It must be something awful, if one may judge by the screeching it is able to do. I heard a couple of laughing hyenas give a solo and chorus in a menagerie once, and I thought I should never get the sound out of my ears; but that thing in the gulf can beat them out of sight. I'm going home now, but I'll come up here to-morrow with Bugle and Uncle Hallet's Winchester, and if I can make the dog drive him out of the bushes so that I can get a fair sight at him, I'll pump him so full of holes that he'll never make any more of that noise."
Tom at once drew a bee line for his uncle's house, and Bob fell in behind him. When they reached the wood-pile, he proposed that they should sit down and rest and compare notes. He was still quite nervous and uneasy, while Bob, who had had leisure to look at the matter in all its bearings, was as serene and unruffled as usual.
"Well, what do you think of it by this time?" inquired the latter.
"I don't think anything about it," replied Tom; "it is quite beyond me. But this much I know: That thing has got to be 'neutralized' before I will consent to come up here and live as Uncle Hallet's game-warden."
"Aha!" exclaimed Bob, with a laugh, "didn't you assure me that we wouldn't hear anything go b-r-r-r?"
"Yes, and I'll stick to it; but there's something in these mountains that I don't want to hear screaming around our cabin this winter, now I tell you. What kind of a beast do you think it was, anyway? You heard a panther screech while you were hunting in Michigan last winter. Did he make a noise like that?"
"No," answered Bob; "it wasn't a beast, either."
"What makes you say that?"
"I have two very good reasons. In the first place, if there are any animals in these mountains that are more to be feared than the wolves, they have found hiding-places sosecure that the hunters have not been able to discover them for ten years and better. In the next place, if that thing in the gulf is a beast of prey, he would not have given us notice of his presence. He would have waited till we came close to the bushes so that he could jump out and grab one of us."
"That's so," said Tom. "Well, go on; what was it?"
"You placed our robbers' cave down there, didn't you?"
"Oh, get out!" exclaimed Tom; "I'm in no humor for nonsense. I was badly frightened, and I haven't got over it yet."
"Neither have I. I am in dead earnest. There's somebody down there in the gulf, and he took that way to let us know that he didn't want us to come any nearer to him."
"It was Silas Morgan, for a million dollars!" exclaimed Tom, who needed no more words to convince him that his friend's reasoning was correct. "It's perfectly clear to me now. He didn't waste any time in going after that money, did he?"
"Quite the contrary. He has been so veryquick about it, that I'm inclined to believe it wasn't Silas at all; but if it was he, why is he camping there?"
"Camping?" repeated Tom.
"Yes. Just before that horrid shriek came out of the bushes, I thought I could smell burning wood; but I didn't have time to call your attention to it."
"Perhaps the mountain is on fire somewhere."
"Oh, I guess not. If that was the case, we'd smell the smoke now, wouldn't we?"
"That's so," said Tom, again. "Well, who's down there?"
"I'm sure I don't know; but I am satisfied that it is some one who has reasons for keeping himself hidden from the world. Now, what's to be done about it?"
"I don't see that we are obliged to do anything, unless we want to make ourselves a laughing stock for the whole country," replied Tom, who had had time to form some ideas of his own. "I couldn't be hired to tell Uncle Hallet of it, because he would ask, right away, 'Why didn't you go ahead andfind out what it was that frightened you? You are pretty fellows to talk about living up there alone in the woods this winter, are you not?' And he'd never leave off poking fun at us. No doubt there is a party of guests from the hotel down there, and one of them yelled at us just for the fun of seeing us scramble up the bank. I only wish they might stay there long enough to play the same game on Silas Morgan when he comes after the money that is hidden in the cave."
The two friends spent half an hour or more in comparing notes after this fashion, but they did not succeed in wholly clearing up the mystery. They both agreed that it was a man, and not a savage beast of prey, that was hidden in the gulf; but who the man was, where he came from, and what he was doing there, were other and deeper questions, which probably never would be answered.
"I'll tell you what's a fact, Bob," said Tom, as he arose from the ground and led the way down a well-beaten cow-path that ran toward his uncle's barn, "We are not the only fellows in the world who like to play tricks uponothers, and I'll venture to say that there is some one in the gorge at this minute who is laughing at us as heartily as we laughed at Silas Morgan when he found the letter that we put in his wood-pile. The guests at the hotel come up here to have fun, and they don't care much how they get it."
"Perhaps you're right," replied Bob, who nevertheless still held to the belief that there was some one in the gorge who was hiding there because he dared not show himself among his fellow-men. "But if I were sure of it, I should be very much ashamed of myself and you, too. However, I don't see how we are to get at the bottom of the matter, unless we go back and interview the party in the gulf; and I can't say that I am anxious to do that."
There was still another point on which the boys fully agreed, and that was that they would not say a word to Uncle Hallet about it; but the latter heard of it, all the same, and it turned out that Tom was wide of the mark when he insisted that some one had played a joke upon himself and his companion.
The boys reached home just at supper-time,and found that Uncle Hallet had returned from Bellville with good news for them. He had seen Bob's father, and the latter, after declaring that it was one of the wildest things he had ever heard of, and wondering what foolish notion those two boys would get into their heads next, finally decided that since Tom had made up his mind to live in the woods during the winter, Bob might stay and keep him company.
"He desired me to tell you that he shall expect to hear a good account of you, both as student and game-warden," said Uncle Hallet, shaking his finger at Bob. "If you don't keep up with your class, or if you neglect your business and allow some pot-hunter to kill off all my English birds, so that there won't be any left for your father to shoot when I invite him up here, he will be sorry that he didn't keep you in school. What's the matter with you two anyway?" suddenly demanded Uncle Hallet, who had a faint suspicion that the boys were not as highly elated as they ought to have been. "This morning you were fairly carried away with this new idea ofyours, and now you don't seem to say anything. Have you thought better of it already?"
The boys hastened to assure Uncle Hallet that they had not—that they were just as eager to assume the duties of game-wardens as they had ever been, and that that was the last night they expected to pass under his roof for eight long months.
It was all true, too; but each of them made a mental reservation. If the man in the gulf was a fugitive from justice, as Bob thought he was, he might prove to be a very unpleasant fellow to have around, and until he had been "neutralized," as Tom expressed it, they could not hope to enjoy themselves.
They did not want to enter upon their duties feeling that there was a portion of Mr. Hallet's preserves from which they were shut off by the presence of one who had no business there.
"He suspects something," whispered Tom, as he and his friend arose from the supper-table and made their way to their rooms. "Now I'll just tell you what's a fact. I amgoing wherever I please in my uncle's woods, and any one who tries to turn me back will get himself into trouble."
"I am with you," was Bob's reply. "If that howling dervish has settled down there for the winter, how shall we get rid of him?"
Tom couldn't answer that question, so he said that perhaps they had better sleep on it, and that was what they decided to do.
When Mr. Warren's newly-appointed game-warden turned away from Dan and went on down the road to meet his mother, he left behind him one of the maddest boys that had ever been seen in that part of the country.
In spite of all he had said to the contrary, Dan had no intention of asking Mr. Hallet to employ him to watch his birds and keep trespassers out of his wood-lot, for he knew very well that if he proffered such a request he would be met by a prompt and emphatic refusal.
Mr. Hallet was too well acquainted with his poaching propensities to give his imported game into his keeping, and Dan was painfully aware of the fact.
What he wanted more than anything elsewas that his brother should accept him as a partner, so that he could handle half the earnings, while Joe did all the work and shouldered all the responsibility; that was the plain English of it. But Joe was resolved to paddle his own canoe, and more than that, he had threatened to call upon a powerful friend to make Dan behave himself, if he didn't see fit to do it of his own free will.
"I've got be mighty sly about what I do," thought Dan, resting his elbows on his knees and looking down at the ground, after kicking Bony out of his way. "Don't it beat you when you think of the luck that comes to some fellers, while others, who are just as good as they be, and who work just as hard, can't make things go right no way they can fix it? I tell you it bangs me. I ought to have help to drive that Joe of our'n out of them woods, for, to tell you what's the gospel truth, I don't quite like the idee of facing him alone. I can't fight agin him and pap, with old man Warren throwed in."
While Dan was talking to himself in this way, he stretched his leg out before him anddrew from his pocket the letter he had found in front of the door of the wood-shed. He little dreamed what an astounding revelation it contained. He had not the slightest idea where it came from, and neither could he have told why he picked it up.
He proceeded to examine it now, simply because he had nothing else to occupy his mind, except his many and bitter disappointments, and he had already expressed himself very feelingly in regard to them.
With great deliberation Dan spread the letter upon his knee, and, with a caution which had become habitual to him, looked up and down the road to make sure that there was no one in sight. Then he addressed himself to the task of reading the "notis" that was scrawled upon the envelope; but no sooner had he, with infinite difficulty, spelled out all the words in it, than the letter fell from his nerveless fingers, and Dan jumped to his feet and whooped and yelled like a wild Indian.
"Now don't it bang you what mean luck some fellers do have? Here's a—"
Dan checked himself very suddenly when he became aware that he was shouting out these words with all the power of his lungs. Filled with apprehension he looked up and down the road again, but as there was no one in sight, he resumed his seat and went on with his soliloquy; but this time he spoke in a much lower tone of voice.
"There's a fortune up there in the mounting, as much as two or three hundred dollars mebbe, but I dassent go after it on account of the hant that's up there," said Dan, to himself. "I've heared 'em say that them hants cuts up powerful bad when anybody comes fooling around where they be, and it ain't no use to think of driving them away, 'cause bullets will go through 'em as slick as you please and never hurt 'em at all. How come this dockyment in front of the wood-shed, do you reckon?"
Dan was greatly confused and excited, and it was a long time before he could control himself sufficiently to pick up the envelope, take out the inclosure and read it through to the end—or, to be more exact, nearly to theend; for, as we shall presently see, Dan never had a chance to read the whole of it. He kept up a running fire of comments as he went along, and to have heard him, one would suppose that he had long been looking for something of this sort.
That was hardly to be wondered at, for he had often heard his father indulge in the most extravagant speculations concerning the future, and Dan certainly had as good a right to waste his time in that way as Silas had.
But when he came to read about the "hant" which bothered the writer so persistently that he was obliged to jump into the lake in order to get rid of him, Dan could stand it no longer. He got upon his feet, at the same time returning the letter to the envelope and making a blind shove with it at his pocket, and drew a bee-line for home.
He was so badly frightened that he could not run, and he was afraid to look behind him. He glided over the ground with long, noiseless footsteps, his lank body bent nearly half double, and his wild-looking eyes rovingfrom thicket to thicket on each side of the road in front of him.
Presently the climax came. A squirrel, detecting his approach, sought to escape observation by jumping from one tree to another, and he made a great commotion among the light branches as he did so. The noise was too much for Dan's overtaxed nerves.
"It's the hant, as sure as I'm a foot high," said he, in a frightened whisper. "He can't pester t'other feller any more, 'cause he's gone and drownded himself in the lake; but he's going to foller whoever has got the letter telling where the fortune is, and that's me. I wonder could I out-run him?"
Dan thought this a good idea, and he lost not a moment in acting upon it. He was noted far and near for his lightness of foot, but no one in the Summerdale hills had ever seen him run as he ran that day. He hardly seemed to touch the ground; and the farther he went the faster he went, because his increasing fear lent him wings. He was so hopelessly stampeded that if the road hadbeen crowded with teams or people he would not have seen one of them. He did not slacken his pace until he reached the wood-shed, and then he came to an abrupt halt and looked behind him. There was no one in the road over which he had passed in his headlong flight, and the woods were silent.
"Well, I done it, didn't I?" exclaimed Dan, drawing a long breath of relief, and thrusting his hand into the pocket in which he thought he had put the letter. "It ain't no use for anything that gets around on two legs to think of follering me when I turn on the steam. Now, then, where's that there—"
"That there what? And who's been a-follering of you?" demanded a familiar voice, almost at his elbow.
Dan was frightened again. He looked up, and there stood his father, who had been keeping up a persistent but of course fruitless search for the letter ever since Dan went away.
One glance at his angry face was a revelation to the boy. He knew now that Silas hadlost the letter where he found it. Dan would have been glad to take it out and hand it over to him—he didn't want anything more to do with it after the experience he had already had with the "hant"—but he found, to his unbounded amazement and alarm, that he could not do it. He had dropped the letter somewhere along the road.
"Who's been a-follering of you? and what have you lost?" repeated Silas, who began to have a faint idea that he understood the situation.
"There was a hant follering of me," replied Dan, as soon as he could speak. "He was coming for me, 'cause I could hear him slamming through the bushes; but I can run faster'n him, else I wouldn't be here now."
"You can't bamboozle your pap with no tale about a hant, for I don't believe in such things," declared Silas, but his face told a different story. He looked fully as wild as Dan did, and he was almost as badly frightened. "Why don't you come to the p'int, and tell me that you have lost the letter that was left in my wood-pile last winter, and which Inever seen till this morning? If you will tell me the truth about it, I will tell you something that will make your eyes stick out as big as your fist."
"And won't you larrup me for losing of it?" asked Dan, who saw very plainly that it was useless for him to deny that he had once had the letter in his possession.
"No, I won't do nothing to you; honor bright. Did you read what was into it?"
"Not all of it. I didn't have time, on account of that hant, who rattled the bushes behind me. When I heared that, I just shoved the letter into my pocket and skipped out," replied Dan, who could not for the life of him tell a thing just as it happened. "But it bangs me where that letter is now, 'cause I ain't got it."
Dan expected that his father would go into an awful rage when he heard this, and held himself in readiness to take to his heels at the very first sign of a hostile demonstration; consequently he was very much surprised to hear Silas say, without the least show of anger:
"It don't much matter, 'cause I had a chance to read all that was into the letter, and take a good look at the map that come with it. I know right where to look for that robbers' cave, but I shan't go down that there rope, I bet you, for I don't want to dump myself into the presence of that hant before I have a look at him. We'll go in at the mouth of the gulf, and work our way up till we come to the hiding-place of the money."
"We?" echoed Dan.
"Yes, me and you."
"Not much we won't," declared Dan, throwing all the emphasis he could into his words.
"What for?" demanded Silas.
"'Cause why. It's enough for me, to hear hants a chasing of me. I ain't got no call to go where they be, so't I can see 'em. I wouldn't go up to that there cave if I knowed there was a thousand dollars into it."
"A thousand dollars!" repeated Silas. "Didn't you read in the letter about the grip-sack with a false bottom to it?"
"I don't reckon I did," answered Dan, afterthinking a moment. "The hant scared me away before I got that far."
"Well, there's a grip-sack there," continued Silas, "and there's twelve thousand dollars in bills and three hundred dollars in gold into it. I was calkerlating all along that me and you would go snucks on it. Now, will you hand over that letter, so't I can take another look at the map and make sure that I know where the cave is?"
"Twelve thousand dollars in bills and three hundred more dollars in gold!" gasped Dan, who could hardly believe his ears. "Pap, I would give you the letter in a minute, but it's the gospel truth that I ain't got it."
And to prove his words, Dan turned all his pockets inside out, to show that they were empty.
"Then I reckon we'll have to go back along the road and look for it," said Silas, desperately. "That's a power of money, more'n I ever thought to have in my family, and sposen somebody should come along and find that there letter, and go up to the cave and steal it away from us? Just think of that, Dannie!"
Dan did think of it, and it was the only thing that kept him from beating a hasty retreat when his father spoke of going back to look for the letter.
"Now, let me tell you what's a fact," said Dan, after he had taken a few minutes in which to consider his father's proposition. "I don't reckon it will be any use for us to go back and try to find that there letter. I'll bet anything that the hant has found it and carried it miles away before this time."
"Dannie, what's the use of talking that way?" exclaimed Silas, impatiently, "Don't you know that hants can't tote nothing away, 'cause they're sperits? All they can do is to jump up in front of a feller and frighten him; but they can't do no harm to you. We'll take our guns along, and if he's fool enough to show himself we'll pepper him good fashion."
"And never hurt him at all," said Dan. "He'll be just as sassy with his hide full ofbird-shot as he was before. Now, pap, you wait and see if I ain't right."
Silas did not pay much attention to these words of warning, but they were afterward recalled to his mind in a manner that was most unexpected and startling. What he was thinking of just now was the letter. He was very anxious to find it, for he was afraid that it might fall into the hands of some one who would use it to his injury. When he turned about and led the way into the cabin, Dan followed him with reluctant steps.
"You needn't be no ways skeery about going up the road in broad daylight," said Silas, encouragingly. "It ain't likely that that there hant will go away from the cave and roam around the country, scaring folks, for the fun of the thing. He ain't out there in the woods, and you never heard him."
"I did, for a fact," protested Dan.
"I don't believe it, all the same," answered Silas, as he took down his heavy double-barrel and measured the loads in it with the ramrod. "He's come back to the cave to watch them five hundred pounds of money, and seethat nobody don't carry 'em away; and he'll never leave there."
"Then how are we going to get that fortune?" inquired Dan.
"We'll just walk right in and take it without saying a word to him," said Silas boldly. "I've heard my father tell that them hants can't harm you if you ain't afraid of 'em."
"Well, I'll tell you one thing, and that ain't two," said Dan, as he shouldered his gun and followed his father from the cabin. "I ain't a going to run no risk. I'll help you find the cave, but I won't go into it, I bet you. I don't want to hear something screeching at me through the dark, and see great eyes of fire—"
"Don't Dannie!" exclaimed Silas, shivering all over, as if some one had drawn an icicle along his back.
"Well, that's the way them hants do, ain't it?" asked the boy. "I'd as soon be knocked in the head with a club as to have something scare me to death. Come on, if you're coming. I ain't going ahead, and that's all there is about it."
The two brave fellows were by this timefairly in the road, and Silas was prudently slackening his pace, to allow Dan to get in advance of him.
The latter's description of the greeting that would be extended to them by the guardian spectre, when they went into the cave after the money that was supposed to be concealed there, had taken all his courage away from him, and, if there was any danger ahead, Silas did not want to be the first to meet it.
Dan, who was quick to notice this, also slackened his own pace, and the two walked slower and slower, until they came to a dead stop.
"I see what you're up to, old man," said Dan, shaking his clenched hand at his sire, "and you might as well know, first as last, that you can't play no such trick onto me. I'll stick close to you, and face the music as long as you do; but you shan't shove me in front of you not one inch."
It was no use for Silas to protest that he had no intention of doing anything of the kind, for the case was too clear against him; so he pushed ahead again, and Dan, true tohis promise, kept close at his side. They walked on for a quarter of a mile or more, holding their guns in readiness for instant use, and never saying a word to each other, and at last the deep silence that brooded over the surrounding woods became too much for the ferryman's nerves. He broke it by saying, in a suppressed whisper:
"You read far enough in that letter to know that there's five hundred pounds of money into that there cave, didn't you? That's as much as me and you both can pack away on our backs in one trip, and it beats me how that feller could have toted it so far. Now where be we going to hide it? That's what's been a bothering of me. Can't you think up some good—Laws a massy! what's the matter of you?" exclaimed Silas; for Dan suddenly seized his father's arm with a grip that made him wonder.
They were just going around the first turn in the road. Instead of replying to his father's question in words, Dan raised his hand and pointed silently toward the bushes a short distance away.
Silas looked, and was just in time to catch a glimpse of something which got out of the range of his vision so quickly that he could not tell what it was. He turned to Dan for an explanation.
"It's the hant," whispered the latter. "I know it is, for didn't he go into them evergreens without making the least stir among the branches?"
Silas couldn't say whether he did or not, and neither did he stop to argue the matter. Forgetting that he had brought his double-barrel with him on purpose to "pepper" the ghost, in case he saw fit to make himself visible, Silas faced about and took to his heels; but before he had taken half a dozen steps, Dan flew past him as if he had been standing still.
His father made a desperate effort to catch him as he went by, but Dan sprang out of his reach and bounded onward with increased speed, never stopping to take breath or to look behind him, until he found himself safe in the cabin. When his father stepped across the threshold, a few minutes later, Dan made all haste to close and lock the door.
"You're a purty son, you be, to run off and leave your poor old pap to face the danger alone," said the ferryman, sinking into the nearest chair and fairly gasping for breath. "I won't give you none of my fortune when I get it, just to pay you for that mean piece of business."
"I don't care," answered Dan, doggedly. "You run first, and I wasn't going to stay behind with that thing there in the bushes. I reckon you're willing to believe now that he was a chasing of me a while ago, ain't you? I tell you, pap, he follers the letter, and he'll never leave off pestering the man that's got it. I'm glad it's lost."
"So be I," said Silas, who had not thought of this before. "He bothered his pardner, who was the only one who knew that there was a fortune in the cave, and his pardner had to jump into the lake to get shet of him. It stands to reason, then, that he'll show himself to every one who finds out about that money. I 'most wish that that letter hadn't been put in my wood-pile, 'cause I can't rest easy while that hant is loafing about here."
"Now I'll tell you this for a fact," added Dan. "You'd best let the whole thing drop right where it is. The hant will be sure to foller the money wherever it goes, and as often as you step out to your hiding-place to get a dollar or two, you will find him there waiting for you."
"Dannie," said Silas, slowly, "I'll bet you have hit centre the first time trying. But it 'pears to me that if he wanted to keep the secret of that cave hid from everybody, he ought by rights to have scared me away when he saw me taking the letter out of my wood-pile."
"You can't never get the money, and that's all there is about it," said Dan, confidently.
"Yes, we can!" exclaimed Silas, jumping up to put his gun back in its place. "I've just thought of something, and I want you to tell me if you don't think it about the cutest trick that was ever played on a hant or anything else. He'll stay around where that letter is till some one finds it, won't he?"
Dan thought it very likely.
"Then he'll go with the feller, to keep track of the letter, won't he?"
Dan was sure he would.
"And if it ain't found right away, he'll hang around so's to keep an eye on it and see where it goes to. Don't you think he will?"
Dan replied that he did.
"Well, now, that's what I am going to work on," continued Silas, gleefully. "The hant is out of the cave now—we're sure of that, for we both seen him when he went into them bushes—and we must work things so's to keep him out."
"You keep saying 'we' all the time," interrupted Dan, "and I tell you, once for all, that I ain't going to have nothing to do with it. You can have all the money, for I won't go nigh the cave."
"I don't ask you to," Silas hastened to assure him. "That's the trick I was telling you about. All I want you to do is to walk up and down the road to-morrow—it's getting too late to do anything to-day—and make the hant believe that you're looking for the letter you lost."
"Well, I won't do it," said Dan, promptly.
"That'll keep him away from the cave," continued the ferryman, paying no attention to the interruption, "and while he is watching you, I'll slip up and gobble that fortune without asking any other help from you. And I'll give you half, the minute I get my hands on to it—the very minute."
"Well, I won't do it," said Dan, again. "Why don't you stay and watch the hant, and let me go after the money?"
This proposition almost took the ferryman's breath away. He wouldn't have agreed to it if the robber's treasure had been twice twelve thousand dollars.
"Why, you don't know where the cave is," he managed to articulate.
"No more do you," retorted Dan.
"Yes, I do, 'cause I looked at the map. I can go right to it on the darkest of nights."
"Here comes mam and that Joe of our'n, and so you'd best hush up," said Dan, in a hurried whisper. "I ain't a going to play 'Hi-spy' all alone with that there hant, and that's all there is about it. But I do hate togive up my good clothes, and breech-loader and j'inted fish-pole," he added, after thinking a moment, "and mebbe I'll go with you up to the cave to-morrow, and make him keep his distance while you go in and bring out the money. Who knows but what the smell of powder and the whistle of shot about his ears will scare him so't he will go away and never come back?"
Silas caught the idea at once, and felt greatly encouraged by it; but before he could say anything the door, which Dan had unlocked while he was talking, was thrown open, and Mrs. Morgan and Joe came in.
The latter looked cheerful and happy, but it was plain that his mother was worried and anxious. She knew that there would be trouble in that house in just one month from that day.
The ferryman and his family always arose at an early hour, and it was probably more from force of habit than for any other reason, for Joe and his mother were the only ones who did any work. The former kindled the fire and laid the table, while Dan and his father loafed around and watched them.
But on the morning following the events we have recorded in the last chapter, these two worthies had something to talk about, so they went out and sat under a tree on the bank of the river, and far enough away from the cabin to escape all danger of being overheard.
Joe and his mother, however, did not bother their heads about them, for they had their own affairs to talk over.
Joe was to enter upon his duties as game-wardenthat very day. Of course he was impatient to see his new home, and to get his hands upon some of those books that Mr. Warren had promised to lend him; but, above all, he was anxious to earn something for his mother. She needed a good long rest, and Joe was rejoiced to know that he would soon be in a position to give it to her.
A night's refreshing sleep had an astonishing effect upon Dan and his father. They did not talk or act much like the frightened man and boy we saw running along the road a few hours before. They were as brave as lions. Twelve thousand dollars in bills and three hundred dollars in gold were well worth working for, and they repeatedly assured each other that they were willing to face any danger in order to obtain them for their own.
But there was one thing that Dan held to in spite of all the appeals and arguments that his father could bring to bear upon him, and that was, that the hant must be met and overcome, or outwitted, as circumstances might seem to require, by their united forces. He wasn't going philandering away in onedirection, while his father went on a wild-goose chase in another, because that wasn't the way to fight ghosts.
"Then we'll stick together," said Silas, at length. "We'll hang around the house till that Joe of our'n goes away, and then we'll fire off our guns and load 'em up with heavier charges of shot, so't we'll be ready for anything that comes along."
"I did want powerful bad to live up there in the woods this winter with that Joe," said Dan, with something like a sigh of regret. "What he's going to get he's sure of, but we ain't. I am going into this thing to win, I tell you," he added, sticking out his lips and calling a very reckless and determined look to his face. "I ain't a-going to let no little brother of mine beat me. When I get started for that there money, I'm going to have it before I turn back."
"That's the way to talk," said Silas, approvingly.
"Joe's going to give all he earns to mam, but I ain't," continued Dan. "I am going to spend all my six thousand dollars for myself.I'm going to have good clothes, and a breech-loading bird gun, and a j'inted fishing-pole, and by this time next summer I'll be so much of a gentleman that the folks who come here to hunt and fish will be glad to hire me for a guide, 'cause they won't know that I am Dan Morgan at all. They'll take me for somebody else."
"Course they will!" exclaimed Silas, bringing his heavy hand down upon Dan's shoulder with such force that the boy shook all over. "Just bear that in mind, son, when we find the cave. I'm 'most certain that the hant won't show himself to us, for he'll be down the road somewhere, looking for the letter you lost yesterday; but if he does come out, you just say, 'six thousand dollars' to yourself, and walk right into him with the bird-shot that's in your gun."
"And what'll you be doing?" queried Dan.
"Oh, I'll be there, and I'll shoot, too," replied Silas; and a stranger would have thought that he was a man who never got frightened at anything.
Just then Joe came to the door of the cabin and shouted, "Breakfast!" and that put a stop to the conversation. There was little said while they were seated at the table, for they were all busy with their own thoughts. Silas and Dan wished from the bottom of their hearts that the day was over, and that the robbers' treasure was safely stowed away in a hiding-place of their own selection. Wouldn't they make good use of some of it before many hours had passed away?
"That Joe of our'n feels mighty peart this morning," thought Dan, glancing at his brother's radiant face. "He thinks he's smart because he is going to earn a hundred and twenty dollars; but what would he think of himself if he knew that I am going to have six thousand dollars before night comes? Now I'll tell you what's a fact," added Dan, who was firmly resolved that he would not come home empty-handed. "When we get that money I'll make pap count out my share at once, and then I'll take care to see that he don't know where I hide it. He'll bear a heap of watching, pap will."
"I wonder what has come over Dan all on a sudden?" said Joe, to himself. "I don't know when I have seen him look so pleasant before. He's got an idea of some kind in his head, and if I am not constantly on my guard I shall hear from him to my sorrow I wonder if there's another boy in the world who has a brother as mean as Dan is?"
The latter, who was impatient to begin the serious business of the day and get through with it, and have it off his mind, did not eat a very hearty breakfast. He simply took the sharp edge off his appetite, and then pushed back his chair and arose from the table.
Silas groaned inwardly, for now the ordeal was coming. He would have been glad to put it off a little longer, but he knew that if he did he would be accused of cowardice. Everything depended upon keeping up Dan's courage. If the boy saw the least sign of faltering, the whole matter, so far as he was concerned in it, would end then and there. He would refuse to take a step toward the cave, and no amount of money would have tempted Silas to go there alone. So he got upon hisfeet, took down his gun and game-bag, and followed Dan out of the cabin.
Joe looked through the window without leaving his chair, and saw that they were striking a straight course for Mr. Warren's wood-lot.
"Now just watch them," said he, bitterly. "They're going to begin the slaughter of those English birds before I have time to get up there and order them away. I don't see why they can't lend me a helping hand, instead of trying by every means in their power to get me into trouble. But I told Dan yesterday, that if I caught him in Mr. Warren's woods I would report him, and he will find that I meant every word of it. I shall not try to shield them any more than I would if they were utter strangers to me. Good-by, mother; I must be off; I am sorry to see you look so downhearted and sorrowful when you ought to be smiling and happy, but I will do everything I can to bring about a different state of affairs. You'll get the money I earn, in spite of all that father and Dan can do to prevent it; you may depend upon that."
"It isn't the money I care for, Joe," said Mrs. Morgan between her sobs.
"I know it," replied Joe, hastily. "You want father and Dan to behave themselves, and let me alone. So do I; and if they won't do it, I'll make them."
Joe caught up the small bundle of clothing that had been made ready for him while he was setting the table, shouldered his long, single-barreled gun, kissed his mother good-by, and hurried away.
He did not follow directly after his father and Dan, but took a short cut through the woods, and, at the end of an hour, had his first look at the snug little cabin that was to be his home during the winter—that is, if his brother or some other desperate poacher did not get mad at him and burn it down.
Mr. Warren's double team stood in front of the open door, and that gentleman and one of his hired men were busy transferring baskets and armfuls of things from the wagon to the interior of the cabin.
"Well, Joe, you're on hand bright and early," was the way in which Mr. Warrengreeted his young game-warden, "and you are in light marching order, too," he added, glancing at the boy's bundle, and wondering at the size of it. "Mr. Hallet had to take one of his teams to move Tom and Bob up to their house."
"Tom and Bob?" repeated Joe.
"Yes. Oh, you didn't know that Hallet had hired them for wardens, did you? Well, he has; so you will have good neighbors, almost within reach of you."
"Why, what in the world possessed them—"
"What possesses them to do a thousand and one things that nobody else would ever think of," exclaimed, Mr. Warren, who knew what Joe was going to say. "It looks to me like a foolish notion, and I'll venture to say, that they will be glad enough to go home and stay there, after they have stood one snow-storm up here in the mountains. They came well prepared, though. They had two trunks, and they were full to the top. But I like your way the best. When you go into the woods, go light, even if you know that youare going to spend the most of your time in a permanent camp. Come in, and see if we have forgotten anything."
Joe followed Mr. Warren into the cabin, and listened attentively while he described the contents of the different bundles and baskets that were scattered about the floor.
"Your carpet is in there—it was made to fit, so you will not have any trouble with it—and in one of those baskets you will find a hammer and tacks to put it down with. I have brought a few books and papers, which will keep you busy until you can come down and make a selection from my library to suit yourself. This is your cot, and I guess the bedding is in there. That's a side of bacon, and here are your dishes and a supply of provisions. When you get out, come down to my house and ask for more."
As Mr. Warren spoke, he opened the door of a small safe that stood in one corner near the fire-place, and showed Joe an array of well-filled shelves. Among other things, there were a number of paper-bags, which gavepromise of better meals than the boy was accustomed to sit down to at home.
"That door leads into your wood-shed, which I would advise you to fill up with the least possible delay," continued Mr. Warren, "and there's the axe to do it with. Hallet has given his nephew and that chum of his permission to shoot all the grouse and squirrels they can eat, and I will extend the same privilege to you; but you mustn't make a mistake and knock over one of my English partridges for your dinner. Of course, you know enough to shoot wolves, foxes, minks, and such varmints, without being told, and if you see a half-starved hound in these woods, hunting deer on his own hook, put a bullet into him without a moment's delay."
"You mean a charge of buck-shot," said Joe.
"No, I mean a bullet; and there's the rifle, right there," replied the gentleman, pointing to a Marlin repeater, which stood in the corner opposite the safe.
Mr. Warren continued to talk in this way, while the hired man was unloading the wagon,and when the last bundle had been carried into the cabin, he bade his game-warden good-by, and drove off leaving him to his reflections.