Joe Morgan stood in front of the cabin, watching his employer as long as he remained in sight, and then he went in and picked up the rifle.
"My first official act is going to be one that I would rather leave for some one else to perform," said he, to himself. "I must hunt up father and Dan, and tell them to make themselves scarce about here. I could be as happy and contented as I want to be during the next eight months, if they would only let me alone. With a business I like, to keep me occupied while daylight lasts, plenty of books and papers to help me pass the evening hours pleasantly, and a fair prospect of earning money enough to make mother comfortable during the coming winter—what more coulda boy ask for? If father and Dan get into serious trouble by trying to upset my arrangements, they must not blame me for it."
While Joe communed with himself in this way, he filled the magazine with cartridges, which he took from a box he found on the table, and went out, locking the door behind him.
But where should he go? That was the question. Mr. Warren's wood-lot covered a good deal of ground, and the birds he was employed to protect might be at the farthest end of it.
If that was the case, Silas and Dan with the aid of the three dogs they had brought with them, could easily find some of the flocks, and create great havoc among them with their heavy guns, before Joe could put a stop to their murderous work.
"When snow comes I shall not have any of this trouble," soliloquized the young game-warden. "I shall feed the birds near the cabin twice each day, and that will get them in the habit of staying around so that I can keep an eye on them; and I shall know in aminute if there are any pot-hunters about, for I can see their tracks."
For an hour Joe worked hard and faithfully to find the two hunters, who as he believed, had come up there to kill off Mr. Warren's imported game, but he could neither see nor hear anything of them.
Finally he told himself that he did not think his father and Dan had come to those woods, because the birds he put up did not act as though they had been frightened before. If they had been shot at, Joe would have heard the report of the gun.
"I'd give something to know what it was that took those two off in such haste this morning," thought he. "They're up to some mischief or other, or else the face that Dan brought to the table belied him. Well, it's none of my business what they do, so long as they let my birds alone. Hallo, here! I'm afraid that I am going to have more to do than I thought for. Go back where you came from!"
As Joe said this he bent over quickly, caught up a stick, raised it threateningly inthe air, whereupon a brace of pointers, which had just emerged from a thicket a short distance away, turned and beat a hasty retreat, giving tongue vociferously as they went.
A moment later, suppressed exclamations of surprise arose from a couple of men who were following the dogs, and who forthwith set themselves to work to find out what it was that had sent the pointers back to them in such a hurry.
Joe heard them making their way through the bushes in his direction, but he did not say anything until he became aware that the invisible hunters were stalking him with the same caution they would have exhibited if he had been some dangerous beast of prey.
Fearing that in their excitement one or the other of them might send a charge of bird-shot at his head without taking the trouble to ascertain who or what he was, Joe called out:
"Go easy, there! There's nothing around here for you to shoot at."
The reply that came to his ears was the heaviest kind of an oath, and the man who uttered it came through the thicket with suchenergy that one would have thought he meant to do something desperate as soon as he reached the other side of it. When he came into view, Joe recognized him as a guide who had more than once been arrested and fined for hounding deer and shooting game during the close season.
"What air you doing here, Joe Morgan?" he demanded, in savage tones. "You thought to steal them p'inters, I reckon, didn't you? Get out o' this, and be quick a doing of it, too!"
"Get out yourself," answered the game-warden. "I've more right here than you have, and I'm going to stay; but if you know when you are well off, you will lose no time in putting yourself on the other side of Mr. Warren's fence. This land is posted, and you are liable for trespass."
The guide was both angry and astonished; but before he could make a suitable rejoinder to what he regarded as Joe's insolence, the bushes parted again, and the second hunter came out. He was the guide's employer; Joe saw that at a glance.
"What's the trouble here?" were the first words he uttered.
"It's a pretty state of affairs, I do think," answered the guide. "Here's this Joe Morgan, who takes it upon himself to say that we shan't stay in these woods."
"Why not, I'd like to know?"
Brierly—that was the guide's name—turned toward Joe, and intimated that, if he could, he had better explain the situation.
"I am Mr. Warren's game-warden," said the boy, taking the hint. "I have been put here to watch his birds, and warn off all trespassers. This land is posted, and you must know it. There's a notice on that tree over there," he added, indicating the exact spot with his finger. "I can see it from here; and when you saw it, you ought to have turned back."
"How is this, Brierly?" exclaimed the guide's employer. "I paid you handsomely for a good day's shooting, and you assured me that you knew right where I could get it, without interference from any one."
"And you shall get it in these very woods,Mr. Brown," was the guide's reply. "You told me that you didn't care how much them English birds cost, or how bad old man Warren wanted to keep 'em for his own shooting, you would just as soon have them as any other game; and seeing that there ain't no law to pertect 'em, what's to hender you from getting 'em? Send out the p'inters and come on. This fool of a boy ain't got no power to make an arrest, and I'll slap him over if he gives us a word of sass."
"I know that I have no authority to take you into custody, but I can report you to one who has, and I'll do it before you are two hours older, if you don't get out of these woods at once," said Joe, resolutely.
"You will, eh?" Brierly almost shouted. "Then why don't you reportthemfellers?"
When the guide began speaking, it was with the intention of abusing Joe roundly for his interference with their day's sport, but just then there came an unexpected interruption.
It was a regular fusilade—four shots, which were fired as rapidly as the men who handled the guns could draw the triggers.
Joe's heart sank within him. His father and Dan were slaughtering Mr. Warren's blue-headed birds at an alarming rate in a distant part of the wood-lot, and he was not there to stop them.
The guide must have been able to read the thoughts that were in Joe's mind, for he repeated, with a ring of triumph in his tones:
"Why don't you report them fellers, and have them arrested?"
"Four shots," said Mr. Brown, admiringly. "They got in their work pretty lively, didn't they? I have heard that these English partridges and quails are the nicest birds in the world to shoot, and I'd give twenty dollars if we could get a chance to empty four barrels at them in that fashion. I wonder if they are good shots, and how many birds they got."
When Mr. Brown said that he had given Brierly a handsome sum of money to lead him to a place where he could have a good day's shooting among Mr. Warren's imported game, he had given Joe a pretty good insight into his character; but now, the boy was quite disgusted with him.
Could it be expected that ignorant fellows like Brierly would yield willing obedience to the laws, when intelligent men deliberately violated them because they wanted to brag over the size of the bags they had made?
"They are good shots, Mr. Brown," said Brierly, with a grin. "I could tell the noise them guns make among a million, and I know the names of the man and boy who were behind them when they were fired. They were Silas and Dan Morgan—this chap's father and brother."
"Well, he's a pretty specimen for a game-warden, I must say!" exclaimed Mr. Brown. "No doubt he wants to keep all the fine shooting for his own family. I don't believe a word he has said to us, and I think we can go on with our sport without wasting any more time with him."
"I don't care whether you believe me or not," answered Joe, the hot blood mantling his face as he spoke. "If you shoot over these grounds, you will find out before night that I have told you nothing but the truth."
"Look a-here, Joe," said Brierly, shakinghis fist in the boy's face. "It was your father and Dan who fired them guns a bit ago, wasn't it?"
"I don't know—I have no proof of it, and neither have you."
"You do know it," replied the guide. "I've got all the proof I want that it was them, 'cause I know them guns of their'n when I hear 'em go off. Now let me tell you what's a fact, Joe Morgan. If you say a word to anybody about seeing me and Mr. Brown up here, I'll report Silas and Dan for trespass and shooting out of season; and if I do, they'll have to go to jail, and salt won't save 'em. There ain't nary one of 'em worth five cents a piece, and where be they going to get the money to pay their fines? Answer me that. Now, will you hold your tongue, or not?"
"No, I won't," answered Joe, without the least hesitation. "If I can find any evidence against them, I will report them myself as quick as I will report you if you don't get off these grounds."
"I hardly think you will," replied Mr. Brown, with something like a sneer.
"It ain't no ways likely, for it don't stand to reason that he would be willing to say the words that would put some of his own kin into the lock-up," assented Brierly. "But I'll do the work for him as soon as we go home, and what's more, I'll report him, too, for—for—"
"Neglect of duty," prompted Mr. Brown.
"Perzactly. Them's the words I was trying to think of. Then, old man Warren, he'll say to him that he ain't got no use for such a trifling game-warden as he is—that is, if heisone, which I don't believe. Now, Joe, will you hold your jaw?"
Joe replied very decidedly that he would not. He knew what his duty was better than they could tell him, and Brierly might as well hold his own jaw, and stop making threats, because he couldn't scare him into saying anything else.
"I don't want to get into any trouble with the officers, for it is absolutely necessary that I should start for home bright and early to-morrow morning," said Mr. Brown, who could not help admiring Joe's courage, although hewould have been glad to see his guide thrash him soundly for his obstinacy. "It is very provoking to have this boy show up just in time to spoil all our fun. Let's go over to Hallet's woods, and see if we can scare up another so-called game-warden."
"Well, you can," said Joe, who wanted to laugh when he saw the look of surprise that settled on the guide's face. "You'll scare up two over there, and, Brierly, one of them is a chap that you will not care to fool with. When you find him, it will be very easy for you to ascertain whether or not I have told you the truth; that is, if you care enough about it to ask him a few questions."
"Who is he?" asked Brierly.
"Tom Hallet," answered Joe; and, without waiting to listen to the expressions of anger and disgust that came from the lips of the guide, he shouldered his rifle and hurried off.
"I wonder what they will conclude to do about it?" thought Joe, as he threaded his way through the thick woods in the direction from which the poachers' guns sounded."Brierly agreed to give his employer a good day's sport, and now that he can't keep his promise, will he hand back the money that Mr. Brown paid him? I don't think he will."
He didn't either, and Joe afterward learned how he got out of it.
It is hardly necessary to assure the reader that the young game-warden's heart was not in the task he had set himself. He believed that his father and Dan had come upon a bevy of Mr. Warren's imported birds and fired both barrels of their guns into it; and, as they were both good wing-shots, it was not probable that very many of the birds had escaped unhurt. Joe's business was to intercept them if he could, and to report them, regardless of consequences, if he found anything except squirrels in their game-bags.
"But I don't expect to find the least evidence against them," said Joe, to himself, "and there's where they are going to take advantage of me. What is to hinder them from doing as much shooting as they please at one end of the wood-lot, while I am skirmishingaround the other end? They know well enough that the sound of their guns will draw my attention, and as soon as they have killed the birds they'll gather them up and dig out before I can stop them. It seems as though every business has its drawbacks."
And the longer Joe lived the firmer grew this opinion.
Half an hour's rapid walking took the young game-warden past his father's wood-pile, which now stood a good chance of staying where it was until it mingled with the mold beneath it, and down a little declivity to the brink of the gorge in which Tom Hallet had located the robbers' cave. Although he made constant use of his eyes and ears, he could not see or hear anything of the poachers, and neither were there any suspicious sounds behind him to indicate that Mr. Brown and his guide had kept on to Mr. Hallet's woods "to scare up another so-called game-warden."
"This is the way it is going to be all winter," said Joe, to himself. "Anybody who feels like it can slip in here, shoot all thebirds he wants and slip out again before I can get a sight at him. There's Brierly, now; and that's his employer, looking out from behind that big tree on the right. They have followed me to see what I would do if I found father and Dan shooting Mr. Warren's birds."
While Joe was walking along the brink of the gorge, wondering if it would pay to scramble down one side of it and up the other, when he was sure that he couldn't catch the poachers if he did, he suddenly became aware that he was an object of interest to a couple of persons who were so anxious to avoid discovery that they kept themselves concealed—all except their heads, and them they concealed, too, when they saw that Joe was looking in their direction.
But Joe was wide of the mark when he declared that they were Mr. Brown and his guide, who were watching his movements in the hope of finding some grounds for complaint against him.
The concealed parties were watching him, it is true, but for a different purpose, andinstead of seeing any reason for finding fault with him, they told each other that Mr. Warren's game-warden was wide awake, and that the fellow who shot any birds on those grounds would have to be lively in getting away with them, or Joe would catch him sure.
When they saw the latter looking at them, they moved out from behind their respective trees, and stood forth in full view. They were Tom Hallet and his friend Bob Emerson.
"Look here!" shouted Joe, who little dreamed what it was that brought the two boys on his grounds, and so far from their own quarters. "These woods are posted, and you can't get out of them too quick."
"You don't say so!" replied Tom. "Come up here and talk to us. You've had visitors already, haven't you? Who fired those four shots a while ago, and what did they shoot at?"
Joe slowly mounted to the top of the hill, and shook hands with Tom and Bob, before he made any reply to these questions. Then he said:
"I have had visits from two parties. Oneof them I saw, and the other I didn't see, and they were the fellows who did the shooting. They are on the other side of the gulf, most likely, and when I saw you dodging behind trees, I was trying to make up my mind whether or not I ought to cross over and hunt them out."
"What's the use of going to all that trouble?" exclaimed Tom. "I don't believe they got any birds; but if they did, they made all haste to pick them up and run with them. You say you saw the other party. Who were they? Did they have any birds?"
Joe answered the last question first.
"I took particular pains to see that their game-bags were empty," said he. "The guide was Brierly, and he called his employer Mr. Brown. He's no sportsman, whoever he is; he's a butcher," added Joe, who then went on to give the particulars of the interview, and to rejoice in the fact that Mr. Brown was several dollars out of pocket, having been confiding enough to pay Brierly in advance for the day's sport he thought he was going to have among the imported game that hadjust been "turned down" in Mr. Warren's woods and Hallet's.
"Hallet's!" exclaimed Tom. "Did they have the impudence to go over there after you left them."
"Mr. Brown suggested it, but I didn't see them go anywhere," was Joe's reply. "I warned them that they would find two game-wardens there instead of one, adding that if they wanted to know whether I had told the truth regarding myself they had better question you."
"Let's go back and see what they are up to," suggested Bob. "I say, Joe," he added suddenly, but not without a certain hesitation and constraint of manner that was too plain to escape the young game-warden's attention, "while you were walking along the gulf, you didn't—er—you didn't see anything at all suspicious, did you?"
"I didn't see anything but trees and bushes."
"And you didn't hear anything either, I suppose?" continued Bob.
"Not a sound. Why do you ask?"
"Oh—er—the idea just occurred to me, that's all."
"Do you think that the men who fired those guns are hiding in the gulf?" exclaimed Joe. "Perhaps I had better go down there and see."
This proposition called forth so emphatic a protest from both the boys, that Joe did not know what to make of it. They declared with one voice that such an idea had never occurred to them—that the poachers were safe out of harm's way long ago, and, besides, it would be putting himself to altogether too much trouble.
He'd find it awful hard work to make his way through the thick bushes and briars that covered the steep sides of that gorge, and long before he reached the bottom, he would wish he had let the job out. They knew all about it, for they had tried it.
With this piece of advice the boys bade Joe good-by, and hastened away in search of Brierly and his employer.
"Do you think Joe suspects anything?" asked Tom, as soon as Mr. Warren's game-wardenhad been left out of hearing. "I thought he looked at us as if he had a vague idea that we had other reasons than those we gave for telling him to keep out of the gulf."
"That's my opinion," answered Bob; and his companion took note of the fact that his voice trembled when he spoke. "I hold to my belief that those guns were fired by Silas Morgan and some one he has taken into his confidence. But of this I am certain: Silas went after that money this morning, and shot at the man who ran us out of the gulf yesterday."
"You still think it was a man, and not a wild beast that yelled at us?" said Tom.
"I know it as well as if I had been at his side when he did it," replied Bob, positively. "And, Tom, if Silas and his friend have shot somebody— Great Scott! If I ever take a hand in any more jokes of that sort, I hope I shall be shot myself."
"Seems to me, that Tom and Bob don't take any too much interest in their business," thought the young game-warden, as he started down the mountain toward his cabin. "Thegorge runs through Mr. Hallet's wood-lot, and if those boys are going to confine their scouting to the covers on the lower side of it, I don't see how they are going to protect the birds. Well, it shan't stop me. As soon as I get around to it, I am going to cut a path down one side and up the other, and after that I shall cross over every day to take a look at things."
Joe was hungry when he reached his cabin, and then he found that there was one thing that had been forgotten—a clock.
He had already laid out a regular routine of work—setting aside certain things that were to be done at certain hours of the day or evening; but how was he going to follow it without the aid of a timepiece?
A few minutes reflection showed him a way out of his quandary. Among the other relics of better days that were to be found in his father's cabin was an old-fashioned bull's-eye watch which had not seen the light of day for many a long year.
Joe wasn't sure that it would run, but it wouldn't cost him anything more than a two-hours'walk to find out, and he decided that he would go down and ask his mother for it as soon as he had eaten his dinner.
"I can't set my house to rights to-day anyhow," thought he, "because I have wasted too much time in looking for father and Dan; but I'll have it all in order to-morrow, unless some other law-breakers call me up the mountain, and the day after that, I'll begin on my routine, and stick to it as long as I am here."
If you had been there, reader, to take a look around Joe's cabin, you would have told yourself that there was another and still more important thing that had been forgotten—a cooking-stove.
But Joe didn't miss it, for never in his life had he seen a meal prepared over a stove. He would not have known how to use one if he had had it; but give him a bed of coals in a fire-place, or on the mountain-side, and he could get up as good a dinner as any hungry boy would care to have set before him.
He had everything in the way of pots, pans and kettles that he could possibly find use for, but on this particular day he did notcall many of them into service—nothing, in fact, but the pot in which he made his tea, and the frying-pan in which he cooked two generous slices of bacon.
He found potatoes in one of the baskets and a huge loaf of bread in another, and with the aid of these he made a very good dinner.
Then he shouldered his rifle (knowing the thieving propensities of the majority of the poachers who infested the mountains, he could not think of leaving so valuable a piece of property behind him), locked the door and set out for home.
Although the young game-warden stepped out lively enough, his heart was as heavy as lead. He was sure that his father and Dan had come back from the mountain with a goodly number of Mr. Warren's valuable birds, which had fallen to their murderous double-barrels, and that they would take pains to keep out of his sight when they saw him approaching the cabin; consequently he was much surprised to find them sitting on the bank of the river, widely separated from each other, and to notice that they did not show the least desire to avoid him.
When he stepped across the threshold of his humble home, he was still more surprised to see that his mother appeared very nervous and anxious, and that there was an expressionon her pale face that he had never seen there before.
"What's the matter?" queried Joe. "What's happened?"
"I am sure I don't know," answered Mrs. Morgan, in a faltering voice. "But it must be something terrible. Have you seen your father and Daniel since they left the house this morning?"
"Not until this very minute; but I tried to find them, for I heard them shoot, and knew they were after my birds. How many did they bring home with them? This is not a pleasant thing for me to do, mother, but they will get into trouble just as sure—"
"I don't think they shot any birds," Mrs. Morgan interposed. "If they did, they have concealed them somewhere. But they must have done something, for I never saw them act so before."
"Act how?" inquired Joe.
"Why, as if they were frightened out of their wits. When I looked out of the window and saw them coming, they were running at the top of their speed; and the minutethey got into the house, they closed the door and fastened it, and began trying to load their guns. But their hands trembled so violently that they spilled the powder all over the floor; and then they sat down and swayed back and forth in their chairs as if they did not have strength enough to hold themselves still. There was not a particle of color in their faces, and they acted for all the world as if they had taken leave of their senses."
"What ailed them?" asked Joe, who was profoundly astonished.
"I don't know. I couldn't get them to say a word. Whenever I spoke to them they stared at me as if they didn't know what I meant, then shook their heads and went on rocking themselves in their chairs. When they could muster up courage enough to unlock the door and go out, I heard your father say that he had hauled his last load of wood down from the mountain."
"Well, that beats me," said Joe, who did not know what else to say. "But there's one comfort, mother; I shall have two pot-hunters less to watch during the winter."
"Why, Joseph, you are not going back there?" exclaimed Mrs. Morgan, who trembled visibly at the bare thought of the unknown perils to which he might be exposed.
"Of course I am going back," replied Joe, quickly. "Why shouldn't I? There's where I am going to earn the money to keep you from paddling off through the deep snow this winter."
"Oh, Joe, let the money go and stay at home with me," said his mother, pleadingly. "I shall be so uneasy every minute you are away. If anything should happen to you—"
"Now what in the world is going to happen to me," asked the young game-warden, who told himself that Silas and Dan must have behaved in a most extraordinary manner to frighten and excite his mother in this way. "What is there up there in the hills that's going to hurt me?"
"That I can't tell. I do wish I knew just what happened to your father and Dan. The reality couldn't be any worse than this uncertainty and suspense."
"I wonder if I couldn't induce Dan to giveme a hint of it," said Joe, standing his rifle up in one corner of the room. "I believe it will pay to have a shy at him. He can't keep a secret for any length of time to save his life; and if I work it right, I think I can worm this one out of him."
So saying, Joe stepped to the door to take a look at the motionless figures on the river bank. There was only one of them there now. Silas had disappeared and Dan was left alone.
Joe thought that nothing could have suited him better. Dan might be inclined to be reticent with his father sitting in plain sight of him; but now there was nothing to restrain him, and he could talk as freely as he pleased.
Walking leisurely along, as if he had no particular object in view, Joe went down to the bank and seated himself a short distance away from his brother, who sat with his elbows resting on his knees and both hands supporting his head. He never moved when he heard the sound of Joe's footsteps, and neither did he utter a sound; so Joe beganthe conversation himself, and with no little anxiety, it must be confessed, as to the result. Dan was an awkward boy to manage, and if Joe had entered at once upon the subject that was uppermost in his mind, his brother would have shut himself up like a clam.
"Well, old fellow," said Joe, cheerily, "why didn't you come around and see my new home? I tell you, I've got things nice there; or, rather, I'm going to, as soon as I have time to straighten up a bit. You were up there, because I heard you shoot—you and father. I didn't expect to see you back so soon."
Dan slowly raised a very pale face from his hands, and gazed at his brother with a pair of wild-looking eyes. He did not look like himself at all.
After staring hard at his brother for full half a minute, and running his eyes up and down the bank to make sure that there was no one else in sight, he said, in hollow tones:
"And I didn't look to see you back again so soon, either. I didn't never expect to set eyes on to you no more."
"You didn't?" exclaimed Joe. "Why not?"
"Did he show himself to you, too?" asked Dan, in reply. "You don't look like you'd seen him."
"Seen who? I met some men up there on the mountain, if that is what you mean."
"It wan't no man, Joey," said Dan shaking his head solemnly—"it wan't no man. It was something wusser."
"Why, Dan, I don't know what you mean," said Joe.
And then he checked himself. His brother was in a fair way to reveal something to him, and he did not want to lose the chance of hearing it by exhibiting too much impatience.
"How many birds did you get?"
"Didn't get none," answered Dan. "Didn't see nary one. They are as safe from me and pap, from this time on, as though they wasn't there."
"Then what did you shoot at?"
Dan looked behind him, and allowed his eyes to roam up and down the bank, before he replied.
"I'm 'most afraid to tell you," said he, in a scarcely audible voice. "Joey," he added, straightening up, and giving emphasis to his words by pounding his knee with his fist—"Joey, I wouldn't live up there in old man Warren's shanty two days—no, nor half of one day—for all the money there is in—"
Dan was about to say, "for all the money there is in that robbers' cave," but he caught himself in time, and finished the sentence by adding, "for all there is in Ameriky."
"I can't, for the life of me, make out what you are trying to get at," said Joe, rising from the ground and turning his face toward the cabin, "and neither can I waste any more time with you. I came down after father's watch, and as soon as I get it I must hurry back. I don't want the dark to catch me—"
"I should say not!" gasped Dan, shivering all over. "Say, Joe," he continued, reaching up and taking his brother by the hand, "don't go up there no more. Go and tell old man Warren that he'll have to get somebody else to be his game-warden."
Joe was more amazed than ever. Dan was in sober earnest, there could be no doubt about that, and he could not imagine what he had seen to scare him so badly.
"Don't go back," pleaded Dan. "The hant is in the gulf now, but as soon as it gets dark it will come out—that's the way they all do—and come up to your shanty; and when you see it walking around there, all in white, like me and pap seen it, I tell you—Say, Joey, you won't go back, will you?"
"Dan, I am surprised at you, and heartily ashamed as well," said Joe, who was more than half inclined to be angry at his brother. "You've heard some foolish story or other, and it's frightened you out of a year's growth. There's no such thing as a 'hant.'"
"I tell you there is, too," Dan protested. "I seen it with my own two eyes, and so did pap. If he was here he'd tell you the same thing, pervided he told you anything at all. We heard it yelling at us, too, and such yelling! Oh, laws a massy! I don't never want to listen to the like again," cried Dan, covering his ears with both hands, androcking himself from side to side, as if he were in the greatest bodily distress.
Joe now thought it time to hurry matters a little. He was really anxious to hear his brother's story.
"I should like to know just what you and father saw and heard this morning," said he; "but I can't waste any more precious moments with you. You know my time is not my own any longer. It belongs to Mr. Warren."
"Do you mean to say that you're going back?"
"Yes. I am going to start this very minute."
These words seemed to arouse Dan from his lethargy.
"Set down, Joey," said he, at the same time casting apprehensive glances on all sides of him. "Come clost to me, so't that hant can't tech me, and I'll tell you everything."
"Will you be quick about it?"
"Just as quick and fast as I know how, honor bright," replied Dan. "And will you promise, sure as you live and breathe, that you won't lisp a word of it to nobody?'Cause why, I'm afeared that if you do, he'll show himself to me again, and I don't want to see him no more."
"I shall make no promises whatever," answered Joe, who saw very plainly that he could say what he pleased, since Dan would not permit him to depart until he had eased his mind by confiding to him everything there was in it. "If there is any dangerous thing up there in the gulf, I am going to hunt him or it out the very first thing I do."
"Joey, don't you try that," exclaimed Dan, who really seemed to be distressed on his brother's account. "You can't hurt a hant. Me and pap fired four charges of No. 8 shot into him, and we never so much as made him wink. He kept on yelling at us just the same, and now and then he would make a lunge for'ard, as if he was coming right at us."
"Go on with your story," said Joe, whose patience was all exhausted; "I am listening."
Thus adjured, Dan settled himself into a comfortable position, and began his narrative.
Having fully determined to get rid of his tremendous secret at once and forever, Dan went deeply into all the details, and did not omit a single thing that had the least bearing upon his story.
He could not give a very connected account of the finding of the letter, for that was a matter that Silas had touched upon very lightly. The letter was found in the wood-pile, because his father said so, and that was all that Dan knew about it.
He had read the document very carefully after it came into his possession, and some portions of it were so firmly fixed in his memory that he repeated them word for word.
Then the muscles around the corners ofJoe's mouth began to twitch, and when Dan told, in a frightened whisper, how the man who pushed his "partner" into the gorge had been obliged to jump into the lake in order to free himself from the presence of the "hant," which followed him day and night—when Joe heard about that, he couldn't stand it any longer. He threw himself flat upon the ground, and laughed so loudly that he awoke the echoes far and near.
Dan, who had not looked for anything like this, was not only overwhelmed with astonishment, but he was fighting mad in an instant.
"Whoop!" he yelled, jumping up and knocking his heels together. "Hold me on the ground, somebody, or I'll larrup this Joe of our'n till I put a little more sense into him nor he's got now. What you laughing at, you big fool?"
"Sit down and behave yourself," replied Joe, who was not at all alarmed by these hostile demonstrations. "Let me ask you a few questions, and then we'll find out who is the biggest fool, you or I."
"No, I won't," said Dan, shortly, "'cause why I know that already."
"All right," replied Joe; "then I'll get the watch and go back to my work."
"But you haven't heared all of my story yet," exclaimed Dan. "Wait till I tell you, and I'll bet that you won't never go back there no more."
"There are a few things about the story that I don't quite understand," began Joe.
"No more do I," interrupted Dan.
"But if you will answer a question or two I have in mind, I think we can get at the bottom of the matter."
"You needn't ask 'em, cause you'll laugh at me again."
"No, I won't," protested Joe; and he kept his promise, although he sometimes found it hard to do so. "The first question is this: Did the letter that father took from his wood-pile look faded and soiled, as if it had been rained and snowed on?"
"Not a bit of it, that I could see. It was as spick and span as you please."
"That's one point gained," said Joe. "Didthe writer say anything about cutting a hole through the ice, so that he could jump into the lake to get away from the 'hant'?"
"Nary word."
"Did you find the rope that led down to the cave, when you went up there this morning?"
"We didn't look for it. We went up the beach till we struck the brook that comes out of the gulf, and we follered that till—till—"
"You found the cave?" suggested Joe.
"Till we come purty nigh to where the cave is," corrected Dan. "We didn't see the cave, 'cause we run against something that wouldn't let us go no furder."
"What was it?"
"The hant I was telling you about."
"What did it look like? Now go on with your story, and I won't say a word till you get through. What did you see up there in the gulf that frightened you so badly?"
These words drove away Dan's anger, and called up all his old fears again; but he sat down and resumed his narrative.
It related to a few things which the readerought to know in order to understand what happened afterward; but Dan told it in such a rambling way, and made so many impossible statements, which he insisted should be received as absolute facts, that Joe found it hard to follow him, and we will not attempt it.
His narrative, stripped of all the monstrous exaggerations that his excitement and terror led him to put into it, ran about in this way:
When Silas and Dan shouldered their guns that morning and set out to find the robbers' cave, and the treasure that they firmly believed was concealed in it, they told each other that no matter what happened they would not come back until they had accomplished their object. The former, as we know, was not as eager to brave the terrors of the gorge as he pretended to be, but Dan was thoroughly in earnest, and he built so many gorgeous air-castles, and talked in such glowing language about the fine things they could have for their own as soon as the money was found, that finally Silas became worked up tothe highest pitch of excitement and impatience, and showed it by striding ahead at such a rate that Dan had to exert himself to keep pace with him.
"You needn't be in such a hurry, pap," said Dan, when he found that he was growing short of breath. "It'll keep till we get there, 'cause there ain't nobody else that knows about it, seeing that you got the first grab at the letter."
"I know it," was the ferryman's reply, "but I'm powerful oneasy to get a hold of that grip-sack that's got the false bottom into it. We don't care if they do put a bridge down there to our house and bust up the ferrying business, do we, Dannie? And anybody that wants that old scow for their own can have it, can't they?"
"I don't care what becomes of it, or where it goes to," said Dan, spitefully. "It ain't a going to bring me no more backaches, I bet you."
"Course not," assented Silas. "You'll be a gentleman directly, and then you can buy a nice boat, if you want it."
"I don't care so much for boats as I do for breech-loading bird-guns and j'inted fish-poles," observed Dan. "Them's the things that make a feller look nobby when summer comes. Say, pap, what be we follering the beach for? The rope that leads to the cave is way up there in the hills."
"Look a-here, Dannie," said Silas, stopping short, and bestowing a very knowing wink upon the boy at his side. "We ain't nobody's fools, if we be poor and ragged. As I told you yesterday, we don't want to slide down that there rope, 'cause why, it'll dump us right down in front of that hant, and he'll bounce us before we can get our guns ready. See the p'int? If we go up the gorge, easy like, and keep our eyes open all the time, we shall see him as soon as he sees us. Understand? But I don't reckon he's up here. I'm a thinking that he's down the road somewhere, watching for the feller that finds that letter."
"I hope he is," said Dan, "for then we won't have no trouble in getting hold of the money. Looks powerful dark and lonesome in there; it does for a fact."
They had now reached the brook, and were standing in full view of the mouth of the gorge. It did, indeed, look dark and lonely in there; so much so, in fact, that if Dan had shown the least sign of fear, Silas would have faced about at once, and made the best of his way back to the cabin, leaving the treasure to stay where it was until the mildew and rust had eaten it up.
"Them thick bushes shuts out all the light of the sun, don't they?" said Silas. "And it's so ridiculous crooked, that we might run right on to the hant in going around some sharp bend, and never see him till we was clost to him. The brook is plumb full of rocks and such, and the cave must be as much as five miles away, I reckon—mebbe more. It'll be hard work to go up there after that money."
"But it would be harder to get it by chopping wood for it," said Dan; "so here goes, hant or no hant."
"You're the most amazing gritty feller I ever seen," declared Silas, who was really astonished at the boy's hardihood. "You go onahead, for you ain't as old as I be, and your eyes are sharper, and I'll stick clost to your heels."
For a wonder, Dan did not object to this arrangement.
"I know well enough that pap's afeard," said he to himself; "but that don't scare me none. If we have to run to save ourselves from the grip of that hant, the hindermost feller is the one who will be in the place of danger, and that'll be pap. With two or three jumps I can put myself so far ahead of him, that he won't never see me again till I get ready to stop and wait for him to come up."
With these thoughts to comfort and encourage him, Dan did not hesitate to lead the way into the gulf.
The traveling was bad enough at the start, and the farther they went into the gorge, the worse it became.
A dozen times or more, in going the first quarter of a mile, were they obliged to climb over or crawl under immense logs which had fallen into the stream from the bluffs above;and when these obstructions had been left behind, foaming cascades, some of them forty feet in height, and which they surmounted by scaling the steep face of the cliffs, took their places.
It was a bad location for a surprise and a retreat, in which the hant would have every advantage of them. Beyond a doubt, he could skip from one boulder to another, and plunge headlong over all the falls that came in his way with perfect immunity. But how would it be with them? Dan asked himself.
It was a wonder that he did not get disheartened, and declare that he would not go any farther.
Silas hoped he would, for he was growing weary, and, in spite of all he could do to prevent it, the disagreeable thought would now and then force itself upon him, that perhaps there wasn't any money up there, after all, and that they were destined to return as empty-handed as they came.
Dan also had some misgivings, but he would not allow them a place in his mind. The belief that there was a fortune of sixthousand dollars almost within his grasp, had taken full possession of him; and even if he had not been sure of it, his pride would not permit him to say the first discouraging word.
He was determined that it should come from his father, so that if their expedition failed he could blame him for it. He pressed steadily and patiently onward, without saying a word, and his father followed silently at his heels.
They were now between four and five miles from the lake, and the cliffs on each side were so high, and the bushes and trees that covered them from base to summit were so thick, that twilight always reigned at the bottom of the gorge, let the sun shine never so brightly.
On a cloudy day it must have been as dark as a pocket down there. Silas couldn't think of anything that would have induced him to stay alone in that gloomy place for five minutes.
"Say, pap," whispered Dan, so suddenly, that his father started and almost dropped his gun, "how long before we'll be abreast of that wood-pile of our'n?"
Silas raised his head long enough to look about him and take a glance at the cliffs above, and then the blood all fled from his face, leaving it as pale as death itself.
"Laws a massy, Danny," he managed to articulate, "we're abreast of it now."
There was something so unnatural in the tones of his father's voice, and in the face he turned on him, that Dan felt the cold chills creeping over him, and it was all he could do to refrain from crying out with terror.
"Yes, sir," repeated Silas, after he had taken another brief look at his surroundings, to make sure that there was no mistake about it; "we're abreast of our wood-pile at this blessed minute, 'cause why—you see that leaning hickory up there on the top of the bluff? Well, I shot a squirrel off'n there about three weeks ago, and that there tree is only a quarter of a mile from the wood-pile. I wish you wouldn't look so scared-like, Dannie. The best part of this mean job is over now, and we ain't seen nothing to be afeard of yet. Look around, and see if you can find anything of that rope. If you can, there's the cave. Go ahead, Dannie, and when you feel yourself getting trembly all over, just say, 'breech-loading bird-guns andj'inted fish-poles,' and that'll put pluck into you."
Silas rattled on in this way simply to gain time, and Dan knew it; but before he could make any reply, the performance of the previous day, which had proved so trying to Tom Hallet's nerves and Bob Emerson's, was repeated for their benefit, followed by a new and startling variation. First, a dismal howl arose on the air, and the echoes took it up and threw it from one cliff to the other, until it seemed to the terrified Dan that every tree and hush within the range of his vision concealed some awful thing that was howling at him with all its might.
Gradually the sound grew into a scream; and at the same moment there arose above the bushes, not more than thirty yards in advance of him, a grotesque figure, clad all in white. Its head was concealed by something that looked like a night-cap; but its face was visible, and it was as white as chalk—all except the places where its eyes, nose and mouth were, or ought to have been, and they were as black as ink. It held its arms stiffly by itssides, and when the scream was at its loudest, it made a sudden dart forward as if it were on the point of jumping over the bushes, to take vengeance upon the daring fortune-hunters.
"Oh, my soul!" groaned Silas; and his legs refusing to support him any longer, he sat down among the rocks and covered his eyes with his hand.
But Dan was made of sterner stuff. For a moment or two he stared at the figure with eyes that seemed ready to start from their sockets, and then his gun came quickly to his shoulder, and two loads of shot went straight for the ghost's head.
This aroused his father, who was not a second behind him; but the four charges had no more effect upon the spectre than so many blank cartridges.
When the smoke cleared away, there he stood, and his actions seemed to indicate that he was about to assume the offensive. He began growing before their eyes; and when he had risen in the air until his height overtopped that of the tallest man they had ever seen, Dan, who did not care to wait until hehad lengthened himself all out, uttered a yell that was almost as loud and unearthly as those that came from the direction of the cave, and turned and took to his heels.
He quickly gave his father the place of danger—the rear—and when Silas, lumbering along behind, and stumbling over rocks and barking his shins at almost every step, reached the first bend in the stream, Dan was nowhere in sight.
Knowing that it would be of no earthly use to call to him to come back, Silas took one quick glance behind him to make sure that the spectre was not coming in pursuit, and then darted into the bushes which fringed the base of the cliff, and climbed slowly and laboriously to the top.
He was a long time in reaching it, for his terror seemed to have robbed him of all his strength and agility, while it had just the opposite effect upon Dan, whom he found at last; sitting on a log near the wood-pile.
"Well, we know now for certain that the money's there, don't we?" said Silas, as soon as he could speak.
"Yes; and we know that the hant's there too," replied Dan. "If I'd known that he was such a looking feller as that, you can bet your bottom dollar that I wouldn't have gone nigh him. He didn't have them white clothes on yesterday. You needn't set down, thinking that I'm going to wait for you, 'cause I'm going straight home."
Tired and weak as he was, Silas was obliged to go, too, for he hadn't the courage to stay there alone until he was rested. He wasn't very steady on his legs, and by no means as sure-footed as he usually was; but he managed to keep along with Dan, who, as fast as his wind came back to him, increased his pace, first to a slow trot, then to a fast trot, and finally to a dead run, every fresh burst of speed calling forth a corresponding exertion on the part of his father, who, struggling gamely to keep up, was so nearly exhausted by the violence of his efforts that he was often on the point of falling in his tracks.