Phil Bradley's Snow-shoe Trail Part 18

"I'd like to have seen the affair," observed X-Ray Tyson, meditatively, as if he might be trying to draw a mental picture of what must have been an exciting episode; for a mad dog in camp is likely to create considerable of a wild stampede.

"Excuse me from that sort of fun," Lub protested; "I'm too fond of dogs to want to watch one running around, frothing at the mouth, and having to be executed."

"Shot down like a dog, you mean," interposed Ethan; "and I wouldn't be much surprised if that old saying originated in a mad dog scare."

All seemed quiet and serene once more over in the direction of the other camp. Whatever the cause of all that shooting and shouting may have been, it had become a thing of the past, apparently.

"Well, it isn't any of our funeral," X-Ray remarked, with a queer shrug of his shoulders; "and so I guess we'd better forget all about it."

Lub noticed that Phil did not seem to agree with the last speaker. He had a serious expression on his face that told of some idea forming in his brain.

"Perhaps it wasn't a mad dog scare after all," Phil suggested.

"But what else could it have been?" asked Ethan.

"Those sort of sportsmen always fetch lots of liquor along with them into the woods," a.s.serted Phil; "and it might be one of them had a fit of _delirium tremens_, so that he even tried to shoot up the camp, and had to be restrained."

"Well, now, there might be something in that," admitted X-Ray, nodding his head reflectively. "And p'raps right now they've got a badly wounded man over there, with no doctor inside of a hundred miles."

"I was thinking of that," ventured Phil; and something in his tone and manner caused Ethan to instantly leap to a conclusion.

"Were you figuring on going over that way, Phil?" he demanded, "and offering to help that tough crowd if they needed any a.s.sistance, you knowing so much about looking after gunshot hurts that we often threatened to call you Doctor Bradley?"

"Yes, I was considering doing that," Phil said, smiling, "though there might be no necessity for our entering the camp, if we seemed to find it all serene."

"I take note of the fact," continued Ethan, "that you use the plural p.r.o.noun 'we,' Phil, which would indicate that you meant to have one of us go along. I'd like to speak for that privilege, if it's all the same to you."

"Shucks! you beat me out in saying that, hang the luck, Ethan," grumbled X-Ray Tyson, who was not often caught napping, and therefore felt additionally sore in connection with this instance.

"Yes, if we think it a wise thing to do, you might as well help me out, Ethan," Phil told him; at which the Allen boy grinned happily, and could not keep from casting a side look full of triumph toward X-Ray.

"I don't see that it could do any harm," Lub advanced in his ponderous way, "if you scouted in that direction. You wouldn't have to brush in on them unless you saw signs that they were all mixed up, and in need of the right kind of help. And like as not you'd easily enough be able to find out what all the row was about, so as to tell us stay-at-homes."

"Come on, let's go, Phil?"

Somehow the idea seemed to appeal more and more to Ethan as he thought it over. The other camp was only a couple of miles, more or less, away, and on their snow-shoes they could make it in what the boys would call "double-quick" order.

Phil looked up at the sky. It was only a part of his customary caution, and not that he really expected there would be any signs of trouble in that quarter.

"All right, then, Ethan; get your gun and your snow-shoes. We'll take that scout and see if we can find out anything worth while."

"I hope both of you keep your eyes smartly about you while you're pa.s.sing along through the woods," urged Lub. "A mad dog is a terrible thing to run across; and for all we know the beast might have got away."

"Ten to one, Phil," sang out Ethan, with a carefree laugh, "poor old timid Lub here will spend every minute of the time we're away sitting on a log by the fire with his gun on his lap, and ready to whack away at any suspicious four-legged beast that shows up."

"Well, can you blame me?" demanded the stout boy; "I read about a fellow who was bitten by a mad dog, and it's haunted me ever since. I guess I'd rather be taken prisoner by hostile Indians, and burned at the stake, than bitten by a dog suffering with the rabies."

He stepped over and securing his gun found a comfortable spot on the log near the fire. Here he drew the small waif close to his left side, and looked as though he meant to stay there in that one position as long as two of the guardians of the shack were absent on their risky errand.

Phil only loitered a couple of minutes to s.n.a.t.c.h up his camera. There could be no telling when he might run across a chance to make use of this. It is like a gun in that respect, for you often see the most marvelous pictures when you have unfortunately left the camera at home.

They started off with the best wishes of those left behind.

"Course you've thought to put your little medicine-case in your pocket, Phil?" sang out Lub; "it came in mighty handy down on the Coast, when we found that young bayman doubled up with pain, after eating some canned stuff that gave him a little touch of ptomaine poisoning; yes I can see it bulging out on the left side of your coat. Well, so-long; and hurry back, because the night isn't so far away, and supper will be cooking, you know."

The two boys made a bee-line for the other camp. Both of them remembered its location, from having taken note of the column of smoke so often.

Ethan was doing better work with his snow-shoes right along now, for there is nothing that serves one so well in this respect as practice.

They had covered the first mile with ease.

"Must be all of half way there, Phil?" suggested Ethan.

"Yes."

"And do we keep straight on as we're going now, or make a little detour so as to come on the camp from the other side?" continued Ethan.

Phil smiled.

"I see you're up to all the little dodges of the profession, Ethan," he chuckled, "and are bound to make an A Number One tracker yet. Yes, we might as well begin to circle some from here on, always keeping in mind the point we're aiming to reach."

"No trouble at all about locating the camp, Phil, as long as they continue to burn that half-green wood."

"It does send up a pile of black smoke for a fact," admitted Phil, looking in the direction his chum was pointing; "and we'll keep an eye on it as we go."

Of course as they made progress through the bush the boys did not neglect to observe everything around them. Lub's solemn warning may not have made much of an impression on their minds, but habit proved strong, with Phil at least, and it was his custom to be on the alert.

"We're getting in close now," whispered Ethan; "I thought I heard a cough, then."

"That's right, and I can see the fire beyond that thick bunch of pines,"

was what the other replied, in the same low tone.

Still advancing cautiously they gradually reached a spot where they were able to look in on the rival camp. The fire was burning, but things seemed to be rather quiet. At least the two scouts failed to discover any furious rushing to and fro that would indicate excitement and alarm.

"Looks peaceful enough, Phil, doesn't it?" whispered Ethan, in rather a disappointed fashion, that would indicate he had felt hopeful the services of his chum might be needed, and that they could thus heap coals of fire on the head of the boastful and vindictive Mr. James Bodman, millionaire sportsman.

"There's one of the guides near the fire," remarked Phil.

"Yes, and he seems to be rather upset over something," pursued Ethan; "notice how he keeps on looking to the right and to the left. See him start to hold up his hands then, will you? What in the wide world can have been going on over here?"

"Seems like a mystery," admitted Phil, still staring at the vicinity of the camp fire where only that one guide was visible.

"Where d'ye suppose the others all are?" ventured Ethan, keeping his voice down to the lowest possible pitch, although there did not seem to be any reason for such caution.

"I suppose in those two shacks we see," came the hesitating answer; and then the other heard Phil give a little gasp.

"You've discovered something; what is it?" Ethan asked, eagerly.

"They did shoot a dog, it seems, Ethan!"