Phil Bradley's Snow-shoe Trail Part 22

Sometimes seems to me the boy knows what I'm saying to him, and tries the best he can to answer, but as yet I haven't mastered his sign language. Chances are his mammy would know everything he wants to tell."

"He's gone to sleep now," remarked Phil, "after that fine supper he put away. One thing sure, he hasn't lost his appet.i.te even if he has his folks."

"Can you blame the little shaver?" said Lub, quickly; "like as not it's been a long spell since he's seen such grub as we put before him, and plenty of it at that. Up here the guides are in the habit of taking what they call pot-luck; one day plenty of meat on hand, and another time the pot is pretty nearly empty."

"X-Ray, don't you want to come out with me for a short time?" asked Phil as he got on his feet.

"Sure I do," the other replied, without the slightest hesitation in his manner or speech; "what's doing now, Phil?"

"Oh! you remember I said I had found several places where certain small fur-bearing animals live. An old trapper would say they '_use_' the ground where their tracks show. Well, I want to get some flashlight pictures of the same, and it's to lay my trap that I'm going out now."

"Glad you don't think of going alone, Phil," remarked Lub, seriously.

"Why, do you think I might run up against a wolf pack, and have to climb a tree to save myself from their teeth?" laughed Phil, as he slung the camera over his shoulder, and then picked up his repeating rifle.

"Well, it wasn't so much that as the chance of your meeting some of the ugly crowd from the other camp that made me say what I did," Lub continued. "Any lot of people who could get down so low as to try and burn a party of boys out of their shack, just for petty spite, would be capable of doing pretty nearly anything."

At that both Phil and Ethan laughed loudly.

"Make your mind easy about that millionaire and his party!" exclaimed the latter, "they've had enough experience with the Terrible Baylay to do them a life-time. I rather think they'll be afraid to venture far away from their old camp the rest of the time they're up here. Fact is, it wouldn't surprise me a whit if they packed up and vacated inside of twenty-four hours."

"And you're saying just what was in my mind, too, Ethan," Phil added.

"Not one of those three wealthy men could be tempted to get away from the fire this night; and I rather think they'll take a dislike to the whole neighborhood. They haven't been very lucky since coming here."

"Not in getting their caribou, anyway," said X-Ray, uproariously, as he allowed his thoughts to go back to the time when he and Phil offered their leavings to the domineering financier, after he tried to make out he had first claim to the quarry that had been brought down.

As Phil had made all his preparations beforehand they experienced little difficulty in placing the trap. It was so arranged that the mink could not possibly get the attractive bait without setting the flashlight cartridge off; and if everything worked well his picture would be taken as neatly as though the photographer were present in person to superintend things.

"I hope this will be the beginning of a series of successful jobs along this same line," Phil was saying, as after arranging things to suit his ideas they headed in the direction of camp once more.

"You haven't given up the idea of visiting that beaver settlement, I hope, Phil?"

"Just as soon as we get the boy off our hands we'll take it up," he was told.

"While that is hanging over us I'd rather stay near home; because whether Baylay comes in the dead of night, or by the light of the sun I want to be there to meet him."

"And the rest of us would rather have it that way, I'm sure," admitted Ethan, which was enough in itself to show how the balance of the Mountain Boys had come to depend on Phil as their leader. "But if you feel so sure none of that crowd will venture out to-night, is that going to make any change in our regular program of keeping watch, Phil?"

"No, I don't see why it should," came the ready response. "It's a good habit to get into, and the more we practice it the better we can stand our stint without feeling like going to sleep on post."

"I half expect you're looking for a visit from Baylay," ventured Ethan, shrewdly.

"That depends a good deal on whether he knows about our being here," he was told.

"If he didn't happen to see our smoke, or run across McNab when the farmer was getting out of the bush, of course he wouldn't be apt to come this way. In that event the man would spend all his time scouting the snow woods around the place where we picked up the kid."

"He must be a smart tracker, Phil?"

"It stands to reason that he is," replied the other; "and I can give a good guess why you say that, Ethan. You think he may try to follow the boy from the time he started out, with his little popgun under his arm, just as he had seen his daddy go forth many a time on a hunt for fresh meat."

"If he did, and the wind hasn't drifted the dry snow so as to cover the trail all up, why in the course of time he'd reach the spot where we found the kid; and as the trail ended there he might guess somebody had found him, or else the wolves had carried the boy off."

"That's true enough, Ethan; but as the wind has been blowing more or less ever since, and the snow is like powder, I'm afraid that trail of the boy has been covered long ago. Even the smartest tracker couldn't keep it long. But we'll have to wait and see what turns up."

They sat there before the fire for a long time. There was so much to talk about that the time pa.s.sed before they knew it. Lub had some while since managed to get his little charge tucked away under the capacious blanket, and he now declared his intention of joining him.

Phil insisted upon taking the first watch on this particular night, and while the other pair may have had some idea as to what his reason was they did not ask any questions.

"You'll wake me in good time, remember, Phil," had been the last words of X-Ray as he smothered a tremendous yawn; and then followed Ethan under his blanket.

Phil sat there watching the fire, which he meant to keep burning cheerfully all through his time on guard. If any one were heading for the camp through the snow woods that welcome pyramid of flame would serve as a guidepost to their steps. And somehow Phil seemed to have the utmost confidence that sooner or later his vigilance would be rewarded.

An hour, two of them almost had pa.s.sed, and beyond the customary noises of the night nothing had broken upon his hearing. The wind murmured and fretted among the pine-tops; or a limb creaked mournfully as it sc.r.a.ped across another. A snow owl called to its mate in the deeper recesses of the woods; perhaps some daring little creatures came creeping from unknown recesses under various roots, and hunted for crumbs of food near the camp.

Then Phil raised his head to listen. He smiled, and nodded, as though satisfied his long vigil was about to be rewarded.

Yes, plainly now he caught the peculiar crunch of advancing snow-shoes.

The sound came from the quarter away from the lake; and it was in that direction they believed the waif's people had their lonely cabin, deep in the recesses of the bush, so that only with the greatest difficulty could any venturesome game warden ever find the home of the poacher who scorned all their warnings, and defied arrest.

Nearer the sounds came. Whoever it was advancing he was apparently in a desperate hurry; and that seemed to fit in with Phil's way of figuring.

Indeed, with the fate of that little darling of a boy hung up in the balance he could not see how any father who cared at all for his child would linger on the snow-shoe trail.

Phil arose quietly to his feet. The sounds were close at hand as a huge form loomed up in the light of the firelight; and Phil drew a breath of relief as he realized that the crisis had come; for that could be no other than the poacher Baylay, come to ask in his anguish if they had seen the lost boy.

CHAPTER XVI

BAYLAY'S HOME-COMING--CONCLUSION

As Phil stood there, he saw the big man who had terrorized the Bodman camp so recently, swiftly advance.

There was no evidence of braggadocio about Baylay now. He had a gun in his hand, but this he held up as though to let those in the camp understand that he came in peace.

Phil wanted the other to show his colors. Great was his amazement when he caught a half-choked appealing emotion in the other's tones.

Evidently all the fight had been suddenly taken from Anson Baylay when he arrived home and learned of his terrible loss.

"I'm acomin' to ask ye to help me," he started to say. "I can't find him in the snow; an' ma says p'raps _somebody_ might a picked him up. I hopes so, sure, 'cause we sets a store by the kid. Hev ye seen my Kinney?"

"Are you the man they call the Terrible Baylay?" asked Phil.

"Anson Baylay is my name, but I ain't so terrible; seein' I feel as weak as a cat, 'cause o' this thing that's happened; an' wi' ma acryin' her head off. But ye ain't tole me yit if ye seen a sign o' my lettle boy Kinney. Tell me the wost, stranger; I kin stand it; but I sure hate to fetch the news hum to her."

"Is Kinney a little boy with yellow hair and blue eyes?" asked Phil.

"Yes, yes, that's him!" gasped the giant, thrusting out a trembling hand and gripping the boy by the arm so that Phil winced.