The Camp in the Snow Part 42

"So do I," replied Hamp, "and if that's the case, we're sure to reach civilization sooner or later."

The boys struck through the woods. They were so tired that they stopped frequently to rest during the morning. The sled, too, proved to be a burden; but they held on to it.

Finally they reached a plateau, obstructed with heavy timber, scrub and rocks. Pushing across it, they emerged into a glare of light on the brow of a mountain side.

As far as the boys could see, was a rolling, wintry landscape of woods and hills. At a possible distance of eight or ten miles several wreaths of brownish smoke were stamped faintly against the horizon.

"Look," exclaimed Hamp. "That must be Kingman or Wytopitlock. I'm sure of it. We're on the right track, old fellow."

"With a big tramp ahead of us," added Brick. "I'm so tired I could drop right down and go to sleep. Say, wouldn't this slope make an elegant toboggan slide?"

"Well, I should say so," replied Hamp, in a tone of great enthusiasm.

The boys were right--at least, as far as appearances went. From some natural cause the mountain side was bare of timber and rocks. Its smooth surface of crusted snow fell at a steep but regular angle, and seemed to be unbroken until it was merged with the timber of the bottom of the valley.

As the boys looked, the same idea took root in the mind of each.

"Do you think it would be safe to shoot down on the sled?" asked Brick, doubtfully. "It would save an awfully long walk."

There was a moment of silence and hesitation. Then all choice was summarily taken out of the lads' hands. The heard a snapping of twigs behind them, and, when they wheeled around to look, there stood Kyle Sparwick. A rifle was strapped over his shoulder, but he made no attempt to use it.

"I've got you ag'in," he cried, harshly. "Up with your arms, now. I'm a-goin' ter tie them, an' then we'll start for the meetin'-place. It was purty smart of you lads ter travel in the right direction."

Sparwick enjoyed the consternation of the lads. He watched them with keen satisfaction. The certain prospect of the ransom money made him more lenient and good-humored than he would have been under other circ.u.mstances.

"Well," he said, finally. "Are you goin' ter lift your arms?"

It was just then that Hamp remembered the sled, and the long slope of frozen snow. No thought of danger entered into his calculations now.

Like a flash, he jerked the sled forward to the verge of the descent.

"Jump on, Brick!" he yelled. "Jump, quick!"

The command was hardly spoken when Brick threw himself flat on the long sled, and clung tightly to the sides. Hamp dropped instantly on top of his companion. There was ample s.p.a.ce for them, since the amount of luggage was small.

Just as Sparwick uttered an angry yell, Hamp sent the sled forward by a shove of his foot. The fore end sc.r.a.ped on a hidden chunk of rock that half checked it for an instant. The delay was brief but fatal.

Sparwick dashed forward with a tremendous stride. He grabbed at the sled, but missed it. Then he made a desperate spring, and landed on top of the lads.

The next instant there was a wild, giddy rush--a roaring of wind and a sprinkling of fine snow. The sled, freighted with its living burden, was dashing like a meteor down the mountain side!

It was almost a miracle that the top-heavy sled did not upset. Had the course been less smooth and even, it must have done so at the start.

"Hold tight, lads," shouted Sparwick. "If we upset, we'll be smashed ter pieces."

The sled plunged on in its mad, careening course. Now it was two-thirds down the mountain.

Suddenly Hamp uttered a startled cry, and Brick chimed in l.u.s.tily.

Through the flying cloud of fine snow tossed up by the runners, both lads had made a frightful discovery. Just ahead was a chasm of unknown depth--a treacherously-projecting k.n.o.b on the slope of the mountain. The white blanket of snow had kept its existence hid until now.

"Sc.r.a.pe your feet," yelled Hamp. "Swing the sled to one side. Quick!

quick!"

He meant Sparwick, but the latter had no time to carry out the order.

The sled whizzed to the verge of the abyss. It shot into the air, turned over, and plunged downward through twenty or more feet of s.p.a.ce!

Happily there was a deep drift at the bottom, and the crust on top of it was none too hard. The sled struck on its fore-runners, and went through like a rocket.

Brick landed near by on his side, and Hamp took a header a few feet beyond. Both lads were immersed in powdery snow beneath the surface.

Sparwick fared better. He landed squarely on his feet, and the broad surface of his snowshoes saved him from sinking more than a few inches.

Sparwick dragged the sled out of the snowy depths. Then he rescued the boys, one at a time. They had not sustained even a scratch. They made no resistance, knowing that it would be useless. Sparwick bound their arms behind them, and ordered them to go slowly down the remaining brief stretch of the mountain side. He followed with the sled.

"That there ride saved a heap of time," he said, mockingly. "It ain't fur now to the meetin'-place. I reckon we'll git thar long about sunset."

CHAPTER x.x.xVI.

CONCLUSION.

Tom Fordham proved as good as his word. After apprising the station agent at Kingman of the situation by telegram, he took Jerry uptown to his home.

An early supper was served the boys, and then they hurried off to the Grand Central Depot.

It was nearly noon on Friday when the lads arrived at Kingman. They found a large crowd a.s.sembled to meet them, among whom were Jack Mowry and the station agent.

They went at once to the latter's house, and after briefly telling their own story, they were amazed to learn that absolutely no clew of any sort had been discovered.

"Most of the party that was scourin' the woods hev come back," said Mowry. "They was in an' out through every part of the woods, but all ter no purpus. It's mighty queer what them rascals hes done with the lads."

"And how about Raikes and Mr. Glendale?" asked Jerry.

"Not a trace of them has been seen," replied the agent, "though we have kept a careful watch on the trains and made inquiries in various directions. If they left New York at the time your telegram stated, they must have reached this part of the country a good two days ago--even before we were on the watch for them."

"Perhaps they got off at some other station than Kingman," suggested Tom.

"Quite likely," a.s.serted the agent. "In that case, we have missed them.

It looks very much as though the rascals were going to collar all that money and get scot-free."

His opinion was reluctantly shared by the others. It was a doleful crowd that sat around the hot stove, vainly pondering what could be done.

But at three o'clock the situation took an unexpected and pleasing turn.

A tall, bearded man, clad in a hunter's garb, rushed noisily into the house with two companions.

"Hullo, Ike Carter," exclaimed the agent. "What's up?"