CHAPTER XII
"You had better go slow, Dale," whispered Owen, who was close behind his chum. "That man may not belong here and may be a desperate character."
"Do you mean he may be a thief?" whispered Dale, in return.
"Why not? There must be a good many things of value in this lodge."
"I guess they take most of the things away during the winter."
"Not everything. Do you see anybody?"
"No. But I—hark!"
Dale raised his hand, and both became silent. From a room on the other side of the lodge came a murmur of voices.
"Did you see anybody around, Ducrot?"
"Nobody is near de place," was the answer. "I look around verra good."
"It is Baptiste Ducrot!" exclaimed Dale, in a low voice. "I am sure he is here for no good."
"Who is with him?"
"I don't know, but he isn't a Frenchman."
Both young lumbermen left the window and took their way with the horses to a summer-house standing a short distance away. Here their steeds were tied up, out of sight of the lodge.
"I am going to investigate this," said Dale. "Did you know Ducrot had left the camp?"
"He got leave of absence yesterday," answered Owen. "He was to be back by next Tuesday. I heard him speaking to Mr. Paxton about it."
"I'm going to carry my shot-gun," went on Dale, as they moved forward once again in the direction of the lodge.
On the opposite side of the building was a mass of shrubbery growing close to several windows. Although there were no leaves on the bushes, the branches were numerous and afforded a fairly good place of concealment.
"There is an open window," whispered Owen. "We can hear something from under that."
They crawled to the spot he indicated, and listened intently. Two men were in the room beyond—Ducrot and the stranger, a good-for-nothing hunter and trapper named Link Axton, who had been under arrest more than once for killing game out of season.
"The caretaker is taken care of," Link Axton was saying. "He won't be back here for two days," and he gave a self-satisfied chuckle.
"We take de t'ings away to-morrow mornin' at seex o'clock," came from Baptiste Ducrot. "I haf de boat waitin' at de river an' you geet de wagon. Den we make de big money." And he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
"You're a good one, Bap!" laughed Link Axton. "And the folks over to the camp think you are as honest as the day is long, too!" He uttered another chuckle. "Are you going back after this little job is over?"
"I go back to geet my money," answered the French-Canadian. "Den I tell Paxton I have de udder job, ha! ha!"
"And we'll have a good time over to Sandybay," went on Link Axton. "Is that where you sold that hoss of Larson's?"
"Dat de place, Link. But you not say anyt'ing 'bout him some more," said Ducrot, with a warning shake of his finger.
The talk went on for half an hour, and Dale and Owen learned that the unscrupulous pair had sent the caretaker of the lodge a decoy letter summoning him to Milo, on supposed business for his employer. They had packed up many articles of value in the lodge, and intended to take them away by wagon to the river at daybreak the next day. The stolen goods were afterwards to be placed on a boat, but where they were to be taken after that was not mentioned.
"I guess we have heard enough," whispered Owen to his chum. "Come," and he led the way from the lodge to where the horses had been left.
"What do you think is best to do?" demanded Dale. "Of course we are not going to let those fellows run off with the stuff."
"To be sure not," answered Owen. "To my mind it will be best to catch them red-handed at the work. Then there will be no trouble in convicting them."
"Do you mean we had best go back and let Mr. Paxton know what is up?"
"Yes, either him or the sheriff of the county."
"Did you hear them talk about John Larson's horse?"
"Yes, Dale. Ducrot took the horse beyond a doubt, and he was sold somewhere around Sandybay."
It was decided that they get back to camp with all speed. They left the vicinity of the summer-house by a back path, keeping well out of sight of the lodge. As soon as they felt free to do so, they set off at a gallop, and reached the camp long before sundown.
Mr. Paxton was glad to learn that his timber had not been touched. He was amazed at the story they had to tell concerning Ducrot and Link Axton, and agreed with Owen that the sheriff of the county must be notified at once. This was not easy, and while Dale went off with Gilroy to hunt up that official, who lived a good many miles away, Mr. Paxton, Owen, Andrews, and three others who could be trusted, made their plans to leave the camp at midnight.
"That will bring us to the lodge in time to stop this game," said the owner of the claim. "And if the sheriff isn't on hand we'll hold the rascals till he puts in an appearance."
Owen was sure that Jean Colette could be counted on for aid, and he was taken into the confidence of the others. His eyes snapped when he was told what was wanted of him.
"Bon!I do dat willingly!" he cried. "Ducrot is von verra bad man,oui! I not count him my countryman, no!" And he shook his head to show his earnestness.
It was not a pleasant ride back to Pine Tree Lake, for the slush on the ground made the air damp and penetrating; and the ride for Dale and Gilroy was equally disagreeable.
It lacked an hour of daybreak, when the party under Mr. Paxton gained the lake shore, and came to a halt in a cedar grove. Here the horses were tied up, and then Owen led the way forward toward the lodge.
"I see some men approaching on horseback!" called out Andrews presently.
"Dale is with them," put in Owen, after a long look. "It must be the sheriff's posse."
So it proved, and soon Sheriff Folsom reached them, followed by Dale, Gilroy, and two men who proved to be deputies.
"Just in time, I see," said the sheriff. "Seen anything of our quarry?"
"Not yet," answered Mr. Paxton.
After a brief conference the two parties separated again, one to come up at the rear of the lodge, and the other close to the boat landing. At the latter place rested a skiff, and among the shrubbery near by were a horse and a large lumber wagon.
"They must be in the house," whispered Owen to Mr. Paxton.
"Don't make a noise," was the answer. "Let the sheriff make the first move."
A few minutes later Baptiste Ducrot appeared at the side door of the lodge. He looked anxiously around, and seeing nobody disappeared again. Then he and Link Axton came from the building carrying a trunk between them, and in their outer hands several bundles. Trunk and bundles were dumped into the wagon, and the two evil-doers went back into the lodge for more of their booty.
"Now is our time," said the sheriff to his men. "Don't parley with them, but make 'em surrender at once."
He and his men moved close to the lodge door and waited, pistols in hand. Soon Ducrot and Axton came forth again, with more bundles.
"Hands up, you rascals!" shouted the sheriff, and made a show of his weapon, while the deputies followed suit.
"Caught, by hemlock!" cried Link Axton. "And just when I thought everything was all right!"
"Don't shoot!" gasped Baptiste Ducrot, in sudden terror. "I haf done noddings, no! Don't shoot!" And he began to beg for mercy in his own language.
"Do you surrender?" demanded the sheriff.
"Don't know but what I'll have to," responded Link Axton. "You've got the bulge on us. But what is it all about?" he added with an air of innocence. "We aint done no harm."
"You haven't?" put in Owen. "You were going to steal these things!"
"How do you know that?"
"We overheard your talk yesterday."
"And you are caught red-handed, Axton," put in Mr. Paxton, coming up. "I reckon this pays you up for stealing some of my timber two years ago," he continued warmly.
"Didn't steal your timber, an' wasn't stealin' nuthin' now," retorted Link Axton; yet, when the sheriff brought forth two pairs of handcuffs and adjusted one pair to his wrists he was much disturbed.
The second pair of handcuffs was for Baptiste Ducrot. He protested volubly, both in English and French, against being made a prisoner, but Sheriff Folsom would not listen to him.
"There have been enough lodges and camps robbed in this county," he said grimly. "Reckon we'll make examples of you and Axton, and that will teach the other thieves a lesson."
Under the sheriff's directions, several went into the lodge, where they found two boxes and a half-dozen other bundles tied up ready to be taken away. The things outside were brought in once more, and a man was detailed to guard the lodge until Jefferson Wilbur could be notified.
When Baptiste Ducrot understood how his talk with Axton had been overheard by Dale and Owen, and how the pair had notified Mr. Paxton and the sheriff, he was furious and shook his fist in the young lumbermen's faces.
"I not forget dat, nevair!" he cried. "I remember dat. You wait an' see!"
"I want to know about that horse that belonged to Mr. Larson," said Dale. "You sold him at Sandybay. Where is he now?"
"You fin' out yourself," growled Ducrot, and would say no more.
Under the guidance of the sheriff, Ducrot and Link Axton were transported to the county-seat, and there locked up. Dale wrote a long letter to John Larson, and the latter communicated with some people at Sandybay, with the result that the stolen horse was at last recovered. The French-Canadian had sold him for forty dollars to a lumberman known to Mr. Paxton. This lumberman attached Ducrot's wages and thus got back his money. Both Axton and Ducrot were then held to await the action of the grand jury.
"I am glad that that matter is straightened out," said Dale to Owen. "Now I shan't have to pay for that horse."
"We'll have to keep our eyes open for Ducrot," answered his chum. "When he gets out of jail he'll do us harm if he can."
"I am not afraid of him. By the way, what of the caretaker at the lodge? Did you hear anything of him?"
"Yes, he came back in a hurry when he heard the summons was a fake. He is an Englishman, named Jasper Nown. I guess he'll have a bad half-hour with Mr. Wilbur when the gentleman finds out how near he came to being robbed," concluded Owen, as the camp horn blew to call the men to their day's work.