The Boy Scouts in A Trapper's Camp Part 22

"You give Injun gun and all his things and let go if he tell something?"

he inquired.

"We'll see about it," Pat growled.

"No promise, Injun no tell," was the prompt response.

It was Pat's turn to consider. Finally he made up his mind. "Listen, Alec," said he. "You tell Pierre that we'll give them their guns, but no cartridges; that we'll let them take their personal belongings and as much grub as they can carry and let them go on condition that they will admit having stolen those skins from our traps, that they will agree to get out of these parts and never come back, and that the Indian shows us where the fox is. Otherwise we'll take them to camp and hold them prisoners while one of us goes out for the sheriff. Tell him to tell the Injun."

Alec turned to Pierre and spoke rapidly. The latter interjected a question now and then and when Alec had finished made a brief reply. "He says," Alec explained, "that he agrees, though he thinks we ought to let them have some cartridges. He admits the stealing of the furs, but still protests that he wasn't in on the fox affair and wants to know if we'll let him go in case the Injun refuses to come across."

"Tell him yes," replied Pat.

This Alec did, and Pierre at once turned to the Indian and addressed him in his own tongue. Alec picked up enough to know that Pierre was putting the case in its strongest light and dwelling on the length of time in prison likely to follow conviction. When he finished the Indian turned to Pat.

"You come," he said simply, and turned toward the woods.

CHAPTER XIX

SPARRER SAVES THE SKIN

Without hesitancy Pat followed the Indian. It was a queer sight, the Indian leading with his hands bound behind him, and Pat with his rifle across the hollow of one arm stalking grimly behind him. They were soon lost to view and the others settled down to wait and speculate. It was almost three-quarters of an hour later that they reappeared, and it was seen at once that Pat carried a black object swinging from one hand. As by one impulse the three boys rushed forward to meet them. In their haste they quite forgot that they were on snow-shoes, with the result that Sparrer took an inglorious header, in the course of which he upset Walter and the latter, landing on the tail of one of Hal's shoes, sent him sprawling. Alec roared and even Big Pierre permitted himself to grin.

By the time all three had regained their feet Pat and the Indian had come up.

"Here you are, son! See if you can take better care of him this time,"

said Pat as he flung the fox at Sparrer's feet.

With a cry of joy Sparrer seized the fox and held him up for the admiring gaze of his comrades. The animal had not been skinned, for which Pat and Alec were sincerely thankful. This important matter and the stretching of the skin they preferred to attend to themselves, especially after seeing the careless way in which some of the furs found in the cabin had been handled.

"Where did you find him?" asked Hal as he ran his fingers through the luxuriant fur.

"In a hollow tree, just as Pierre guessed," replied Pat. "The Injun wouldn't answer any questions, but it is clear enough that he didn't have time to skin the beast last night, and hid it there on his way to camp, intending to get it the first chance he had when Pierre wasn't around. He took good care of it, and it is in perfect condition. That was some shot of yours, son."

Sparrer flushed with pleasure. "'Twa'n't nothin'," he mumbled. "Anybody could have done it."

By this time they had rejoined Alec and Pierre. The latter's eyes glittered as he ran them appraisingly over the beautiful black form of the fox, then darted a malevolent glance in the direction of his partner.

"What will that skin bring, Alec?" asked Pat.

The trapper was studying the fox with the critical stare of the expert.

"I dinna ken, Pat," he replied slowly. "'Tis a big beastie, and by all odds the finest fur I ever put my eyes on. It will bring $1,500 anyway, and maybe $2,000. I never thought to lay my hands on the likes of it."

He turned and looked at Sparrer with an expression almost of awe. "Tell me, laddie, what is the charm ye carry?" said he.

Sparrer laughed. "Oi didn't even have a rabbit's foot," he confessed.

"Sure, an' it was just the luck av the Oirish."

"Right, me son! Hurray for the Irish!" cried Pat. Then with an abrupt change he once more became the leader. "Alec, go through the clothes of our misguided friends and see that they have no cartridges in their pockets." This Alec did, despite the protests of Big Pierre. When he was sure that he had secured all of these, thus rendering the guns useless, he set both prisoners free, at Pat's order, and they were commanded to pack up their stuff and get ready to hit the trail. This they did sullenly enough, for they felt that they were under guard, as indeed they were. Their packs were soon ready, for besides their blankets, a few cooking utensils and grub, they had little enough. The latter included part of the ill-gotten deer meat.

When they were about ready to start Big Pierre made one last plea for cartridges, at least for himself. But Pat was obdurate and told them that they were lucky to be allowed to take their guns. When all was ready for the trail their knives were returned to them, and the Frenchman's axe was given him. The Indian's axe Pat retained.

"Ye may loike ut as a bit av a souvenir av the lump on yer head," he murmured in an aside to Sparrer, though his real reason was that he feared what might happen should the two outlaws be equally armed when it came to the quarrel which he felt sure was brewing between them.

They were given a final warning to get wholly out of the country and never show their faces there again on pain of having the charges of poaching and theft brought against them. The big Frenchman was manifestly glad enough to get off so lightly, but there was an ugly gleam in the black eyes of his companion. Sparrer had laid the fox on the snow and drawn a few steps away from it the better to watch proceedings. As the outlaws started to hit the trail to the north, the redskin in the lead, the latter suddenly sprang toward the fox, at the same instant s.n.a.t.c.hing his knife from his belt.

Sudden as was his move Sparrer was too quick for him. He thrust forward a foot that tripped the Indian and sent him sprawling, Sparrer also being upset. Before the Indian could regain his feet Big Pierre was on him, sending his big fist crashing full into the swarthy face. Then wrenching the knife from his grasp Pierre flung it far into the brush and once more raised his fist. By this time Pat and Alec had joined the melee and were dragging the infuriated Frenchman from his victim. All the time Pierre poured out a stream of invective which only the Indian and Alec could understand. The latter explained later that he was charging his companion with trying to put them both in prison after they had been fortunate enough to win their freedom, believing, and rightly, that if the Indian had succeeded in slashing the skin as he had intended they would have been held and turned over to the proper authorities.

"Dat puts me even wid him!" shrilled Sparrer triumphantly as he mounted guard over the fox, and the Indian with a bruised and battered face regained his feet and once more hit the trail, Big Pierre at his heels heaping abuse upon him. As they disappeared in the brush Pat dropped the b.u.t.t of his rifle to the snow.

"That's the end of that precious pair, so far as we are concerned," said he with a sigh of relief. "Pierre is wise enough to know that this isn't a healthy country for them, and they won't bother us any more. He's got the Indian where the hair is short now, for the latter hasn't even a knife, and I guess it's just as well. Now we'll finish our job here and get back to camp. You fellows rustle up some birch bark and dry wood and heap it up inside the cabin."

"What for?" demanded Hal, looking blank.

"To fumigate after the prisence av a skunk," retorted Pat whimsically.

By means of the belt axes of the boys, supplemented by the Indian's axe in the hands of Alec, a pile of inflammable stuff was soon collected and heaped up inside the cabin. Then Pat touched a match to the pile and soon the whole interior was a roaring furnace. The bark roof quickly burned through and fell with a great hissing of the snow which it carried down with it, sending the sparks and embers skyward in a golden cloud. Satisfied that the destruction of the camp would be sufficient to render it uninhabitable Pat ordered all hands to make ready for the return to their own camp and they were soon on the trail. The fire was left to burn itself out, as no harm could come from it, owing to the snow-covered surroundings.

Hal still puzzled over the burning of the cabin. "I should think you would have wanted to keep it, Pat," he ventured at length. "It might have come in handy some time."

"'Twas too handy altogether, as it was," retorted Pat. "When you've dug a fox out fill up his den." And with this cryptic reply Hal was forced to be content.

Sparrer, having no rifle, insisted on carrying the fox, an honor granted him with one accord. Very different was their entrance into Smugglers'

Hollow from their departure in the small hours of that same day, and there was much jesting and hilarity, for their buoyant spirits had rebounded wonderfully now that the load of anxiety and dread had been lifted. Pat and Alec each carried a bundle of furs sufficient in themselves to raise their spirits to a high plane, for these, added to those they already had, a.s.sured the financial success of their partnership.

As they came in sight of their cabin Upton called attention to a thin vapor of smoke rising from the chimney.

"Somebody there, as sure as I'm alive and kicking," exclaimed Pat. "Now I wonder who is paying us a visit this time."

As if in answer the door opened and a big burly form stepped forth.

"Jim! Oh, you Jim!" yelled Upton delightedly.

The big guide and lumber boss, for it was he, turned in their direction, his weather-tanned face lighting with real pleasure. Then as they drew nearer a comical look of wonder and perplexity crossed it. He stepped back to the door and apparently spoke to some one inside, for a second later another strapping big man stepped out.

"h.e.l.lo!" exclaimed Pat. "That's Bill Marshman, the game warden and deputy sheriff, who was looking for Alec last fall, and scared away the bear the day we left Plympton to take care of camp. It's lucky for those two chaps back there," nodding in the direction from which they had come, "that Bill didn't get here a day sooner. They wouldn't have got off so easy."

By this time the party had approached within easy talking distance of the men at the cabin, who were staring at them in dumb amazement. Pat chuckled.

"h.e.l.lo, Jim! h.e.l.lo, Bill!" he called. "Mighty glad to see you. Sorry you didn't get here sooner so as to join our little expedition."

"Say," drawled the warden, "is this a war party returning from a raid?"

"You've guessed it," declared Pat, dropping his load and shaking hands warmly with the two men. "In the absence av the const.i.tooted authority"

(he poked his fist into the ribs of the warden by way of emphasizing the point) "we have been upholding the majesty av the law and the rights av free-born American citizens, and yez have just missed putting the bracelets on as ugly a pair av villains as iver stole the furs av honest men."

A light broke over the sheriffs face. "Big Pierre and his Injun partner!" he exclaimed. "I was tipped off that they were somewhere about here, and that's what brought me in. Where are they now?"