A MEETING IN THE WOODS
Scarcely had the boys recovered from their astonishment, when they were
treated to a still greater and more breath-taking surprise. Meade’s son
was the first to draw their attention. In their interest in the
newcomer, they had entirely overlooked the approach of two others.
These two were Burnnel and Emery. They rode up to the accompanying
thump, thump, thump of three wildly beating hearts. Astride two horses!
Stolen horses! In his agitation, Dick rose and gripped the back of his
chair. He recognized the wiry little ponies, and rubbed his eyes. Less
than twenty-four hours before he had ridden one of them himself. The
other belonged to Sandy.
In truth, Dick had become so excited that for the next few moments he
was barely aware of what was taking place. He was confused and
befuddled. He saw Sandy and Toma shoot to their feet in sudden dismay
and shrink back toward the open doorway. Not knowing that anything was
wrong, Meade and his son had gone forward to bid the new arrivals a
hearty welcome. And it was probably well that they did, for it gave the
three boys time to slip within the log building, hurriedly cross the
room and pass out of the door at the opposite side.
All three were trembling with excitement. Below his shock of bright
yellow hair, Sandy’s forehead was ashen. The boys hoped that they had
not been recognized. Undoubtedly, while making their approach, Burnnel
and Emery had seen them, but Dick recalled that in the position in which
they sat out there on the front porch, they had been hid somewhat by the
figures of Meade and his son.
The coming of the two malevolent prospectors had placed them in a rather
awkward, if not dangerous position. It would be impossible for them to
remain at the road-house while the partners were there. Burnnel and
Emery had not forgotten the encounter of two days before in front of
Creel’s cabin. No doubt, they would take a great deal of pleasure in
evening the score. Both were remorseless, savage, vindictive. Neither
would hesitate for a moment to take any advantage offered, any
opportunity for reprisal.
“No, it will never do for us to remain,” Sandy trembled. “You and Toma
can stay here if you like, Dick—not I. If we stay here, we’ll be
compelled to fight it out.”
“I willing fight,” Toma announced darkly.
“It wouldn’t be fair to Meade,” Dick objected. “There’s sure to be
trouble. Anyway, there’s nothing to be gained by remaining here.”
“The thing to do,” said Sandy emphatically, “is to get out—go somewhere
and make camp for the night. Either that, or start back at once for
Frischette’s road-house, which we had planned to do tomorrow anyway.
I’ll repeat that I don’t care to show my face around here—at least, not
until Burnnel and Emery have gone.”
They were standing just outside the door on the side of the cabin
opposite to the one, where they had previously been sitting talking to
the free-trader and his son. They were safe from detection here only for
a few moments. As soon as Burnnel and Emery and “Rat” MacGregor’s wife
put up their horses, they would enter the cabin. Then the boys would be
seen, for not only the door but one window overlooked the space there on
the west side of the house, where they were now standing.
Toma pointed to a line of brush two or three hundred yards away, and
they proceeded hurriedly toward it. In leaving thus surreptitiously,
they had been forced to abandon part of their equipment—their rifles and
shoulder-packs, and a small roll of Hudson’s Bay blankets.
“What will Meade think?” Dick inquired anxiously, as they plunged into
the dense thicket and commenced picking their way ahead. “He won’t
understand our sudden disappearance. I’m afraid he’ll be anxious about
us.”
“Worse than that,” Sandy struck out at a branch directly in front of him
before taking his next step. “He’ll be sure to give us away. Emery and
Burnnel, if they don’t know it already, will learn from him that we were
at the road-house when they arrived.”
“It can’t be helped. I don’t think they’ll follow us.”
“What beats me,” Sandy stopped altogether and turned to face his two
companions soberly, “is how they managed to get away from Corporal Rand.
You don’t suppose he turned them loose again, do you?”
“It seems hardly likely, yet—” Dick paused.
“Yet they’re here,” the young Scotchman finished the sentence for him.
“Either they escaped, or he gave them their freedom. If he gave them
their freedom, Rand has proved to his own satisfaction that Frischette
really committed suicide. Then, of course, he wouldn’t have any reason
for detaining them any longer.”
“Perfectly true. But that doesn’t explain about the ponies. Rand may be
kind-hearted and all that, yet he wouldn’t deliberately lend them the
ponies, would he? We need them ourselves.”
“They might have stolen the ponies,” reasoned Sandy.
“That seems more probable.”
“Well, what we do now?” Toma had grown impatient. “I think it be foolish
to stay here in brush all night. Better we start right back an’ see if
we find ’em Corporal Rand.”
“But suppose the corporal didn’t release Burnnel and Emery?” Dick asked
perplexed. “We’d be foolish to run away then. The least we could do,
would be to keep in sight of them. Remember, Creel has already escaped.”
In exasperation, Sandy strode over to a fallen tree trunk and sat down,
moping his perspiring forehead with short, angry jabs, a scowl on his
face.
“O pshaw! What’s the use? Everything’s turning out all wrong. We’re
getting deeper and deeper and deeper into trouble every minute. I’m
through! I’ll never become a policeman or a good detective—I know I
won’t. I’m growing tired of all this, Dick. It’s wearing on my nerves.
It is, I tell you.”
Dick and Toma both laughed.
“Nonsense, Sandy! This is a game of wits. I like it.” Dick made a
comical gesture with his hands. “All you have to do is to out-guess the
other fellow. We’ll win in the end. We’re bound to.”
“Oh, is that so. A guessing contest!” The other’s tones were deeply
sarcastic. “Well, if that’s the case, we’re at the losing end right now.
How many of your guesses have been correct?”
Boy-fashion, Dick strode over and placed a hand on his chum’s indignant
shoulder.
“Forget it, Sandy. This isn’t a bit like you. Come on!”
“Come on where?”
Thus put to it, Dick found himself in somewhat of a predicament. The
question required an answer.
“Why—why—well—” he began. “You see, Sandy—”
“It’s a contest,” Sandy reminded him scornfully. “All you have to do is
to outwit the other fellow. You like it. Now tell me, please, what is
your guess?”
Dick flushed, but contrived to keep his temper.
“I haven’t quite decided yet. There are two courses open to us. We can
stay here and keep an eye on Burnnel and Emery, or go back to meet
Corporal Rand.”
In such a mood, Sandy got a good deal of enjoyment in tantalizing his
friend.
“All right. I’m waiting. Why don’t you guess?”
Dick looked about him in desperation. Then gradually out of his
perplexity there sprang a solution to his difficulty. It came like the
sudden glimmer of inspiration.
“We’ll have to do both,” he stated positively.
“How?”
“Separate.”
“I don’t quite understand.”
“One of us can go back to meet Corporal Rand, the other two remain here
to watch Burnnel and Emery.”
Sandy rose from his place on the fallen tree, grinning a little
sheepishly.
“Now you’re talking. Why didn’t you think of that before? Which one of
us will go to meet the corporal?”
“You can go if you like, Sandy,” said Dick with great magnanimity.
“No, no; I wasn’t thinking about that. You’d better go, Dick. You’re the
one that thought of it.”
Dick shook his head.
“I think I’d rather stay here, if you don’t mind.”
“Just as you say.”
Sandy was really pleased.
“It’s a bargain, then, unless Toma—”
“I like stay here, too,” declared Toma.
The three boys were grouped together, facing each other. For the time
being, they were off guard. Not that they had felt at any time during
the past few moments that danger really threatened them. Although still
fairly close to Meade’s road-house, they weren’t troubled about Burnnel
and Emery just then. Even if the two prospectors had seen them when they
rode up, it was extremely unlikely that they would attempt anything
until they had fully rested. Immediate pursuit was a thing that had not
entered the boys’ calculations, and yet—
Dick’s first intimation of an attack, or even of the presence of an
enemy, came when he beheld Toma—apparently for no reason at all—leap
straight back, like a deer surprised in its forest haunt, and plunge
headlong into a willow thicket. Sandy’s behavior was equally puzzling.
Sandy sat down. He sat down on the seat he had just vacated and stared
wildly past Dick, both eyes and mouth open wide. Whirling about, Dick
blinked and caught his breath. A familiar pair confronted him.
“Don’t move,” said a heavy voice. “We got yuh!”