RISKY BUSINESS
When Dick Travers wrapped himself in his blanket and lay down by the
fire, his thoughts, stirred into activity by the mysterious return of
the packhorse, prevented him from sleeping. For some time he wooed
slumber, then sat up, staring disgustedly at the crackling fire.
Like a flash, an idea popped into his head.
"If I can't sleep, it's no use staying here," he muttered. "Why not--"
Dick's head dropped, as Sam slowly approached, his form remaining as
motionless as any of the sleepers until the sentinel again wandered off
into the moonlight.
"I'll do it," said Dick to himself, his imagination fired with a
brilliant scheme. "Yes, sir! And if I should find out anything wouldn't
those chaps be surprised? Gee! It's a heap better than sleeping."
He waited until Sam was some distance off, then rose softly to his
feet, buckled on his cartridge belt, seized a gun from the stack, and
silently stole away.
Watching his opportunity, he found it an easy matter to avoid the
unsuspecting Sam, a détour and convenient vegetation soon putting him
beyond danger of detection.
And now that Dick was actually on the way, he began to have serious
doubts.
"Bet Jacky 'ud call me a silly idiot," he reflected, with a grin,
"but, sure as shooting, somebody brought that bronc back, and I might
discover a camp-fire--it isn't likely, though. Still--well, hang it
all, there's no sense in backing out now."
He found a certain pleasure in wandering about alone in the poetic
moonlight, and also a feeling of danger which kept him keenly alert.
When Dick reached the spot where the packhorse had been found he
came to a halt and studied the ground carefully, but his effort was
unrewarded. Then he circled slowly around the bushes, sometimes on his
hands and knees, hoping to discover some evidence of a trail through
the tall grass. Still there was nothing.
With a muttered exclamation of disappointment, the boy straightened up
and walked toward a knoll almost covered with tall cedars. Standing in
their long, bluish shadows, he looked over the immensity of valley and
hill, solemn and mysterious in the silvery sheen of the moon, with a
strange feeling of awe and pleasure.
Almost forgetting his mission, Dick stood absorbed in its
contemplation, when he received a shock which made his knees tremble
violently.
A human voice had spoken, and the words, though faint, had reached his
ears.
"I tell ye I did hear somethin', Pete Colliver; thar's some critter
prowlin' 'bout."
"Pete--Pete Colliver!" gasped Dick Travers; "and--goodness
gracious--Jimmy of Sellade!"
A whirlwind of thoughts began coursing through his brain. Now the
mystery of the packhorse's return was explained; all their suspicions
regarding Pete Colliver were confirmed--and in this startling fashion.
What were the lumber-boys doing out there in the wilderness? There
could only be one answer to that--tracking them.
For a moment, the queer mixture of feelings in Dick Travers' head made
him almost dizzy. Then the familiar sound of Pete Colliver's voice
steadied his nerves.
"Wal, let the critters prowl. Ye ain't skeered none, is ye, Jimmy?
Mebbe 'twas them fellers a-runnin' ag'in. Ha, ha, but ain't they an
easy lot? My, oh, my! Didn't I near bust a-tryin' not ter laff when
they comes a-swingin' 'long ter see that hoss! Ha, ha!"
"I never seed sich ninnies afore," laughed Jimmy. "An' did ye pipe how
the fat un could run?"
"Wal, ye kin jist bet I did; an' if I ever gits a-wrastlin' with 'im
that's the way he'll beat it to the tall timber, Jimmy. Maybe the hull
crowd o' 'em wasn't skeered o' me, eh?"
As Dick, not yet recovered from his astonishment, listened to these
uncomplimentary remarks, his eyes flashed. But this feeling of anger
lasted only a moment; a grin began to overspread his face.
"Dick, my boy, you deserve a real hero medal now," he thought. "I
wonder what old Jack will say to this?"
From his position, Travers could tell that the two were very close to
him--just a bit down the slope--and he listened intently as Jimmy
began:
"If we's a-goin' ter get ter camp to-night we'd better be a-toddlin'.
Guess old Jim Reynolds is gittin' peevish a'ready."
"Jim Reynolds!" gasped Dick. "Christopher Columbus! Why, that's one of
Slater's men. Gee! Maybe it wasn't a good thing I couldn't sleep! Isn't
this a discovery, though?"
"That's what I'm a-stayin' out so late fur, Jimmy; I want 'im ter git
more peevish. He ain't my boss, is he? Didn't I put 'im on to the hull
thing, eh? Ain't me an' you took all the trouble to track them kids,
eh? None o' the gang kin git gay with me; I won't stan' fur it."
"The gang!" repeated Dick, reflectively, with a start. "That has a
dangerous sound."
The loud, incautious voices did not reach his ears again for some
moments, and when he next heard them it was evident that the pair had
started off.
Dick scarcely dared to stir from the obscurity, but, taking courage,
he peered out, to see Pete and Jimmy some distance away moving slowly
toward the valley.
"Now what's to be done?" murmured Dick, elated at his success, yet at
the same time much disturbed by the thought that their plans were so
rudely threatened.
His first impulse was to hurry back and arouse the boys; the second to
continue investigations unaided, find out where the gang was encamped,
and have all the glory of a brilliant bit of detective work to himself.
It was a reckless plan, but Dick Travers' eyes brightened as he thought
of it; the lines about his mouth tightened, and, without further
hesitation, the boy crept cautiously from the sheltering shadow of the
trees and began moving after the slowly retreating forms.
In the bright moonlight, his task was not difficult. He took advantage
of bushes and clumps of trees, sometimes bending almost double, or
dropping to his knees when the two figures in advance came to a halt.
Pete and Jimmy, totally unsuspecting, scarcely ever took the trouble to
look behind them. Their course was far to the east, where the rolling
slopes were more free from vegetation. Many times they disappeared from
sight, but the eager trailer never failed to catch a glimpse of them as
they reached the top of ridges and walked along their crests.
In three-quarters of an hour Dick saw a dense mass of timber not
far ahead, forming a dark, irregular line against the sky. But what
presently brought a stifled cry of exultation from his lips was a
glimmer of light showing faintly between the trees.
"Hooray!" he murmured. "It must be their camp. This is the dandiest
piece of luck. Great Scott! Won't the fellows open their eyes? And
Jacky?--Gee! Bet he'll nearly flop over."
Paying little further attention to Pete and Jimmy, Dick steered
straight toward the orange glow, scarcely stopping an instant until he
was crouching well within the shadow of the timber.
It seemed very dismal and lonely. The network of branches met overhead
and ghostly moonlight formed fairylike traceries upon bushes and
trunks. In the gloomy, mysterious depths beyond perhaps many dangerous
animals might be lurking.
Dick hung back, irresolute; then, drawing a deep breath, kept on.
"Gee!" A cold shiver ran through him. "This is risky business now."
The glow of the fire presently shone clear and bright, while a faint
hum of voices came weirdly to his ears.
Dick moved with the utmost care, again dropping on hands and knees,
crawling around underbrush and thickets, working along foot by foot,
his heart thumping hard, as he saw the dancing firelight now sending
its rays over the branches above his head. Twigs smote him in the
face; trailing briars caught in his clothes, scratching with a force
that made him wince, but he had the satisfaction of hearing the hum
of conversation growing louder. Pete and Jimmy, who must have stopped
somewhere to rest, had evidently just arrived.
"That sounds like a whopping big crowd," muttered Dick, excitedly.
"Wish to thunder I could see a bit better. Horses, too, close about; I
hear 'em."
At the imminent risk of being discovered, he had now reached a place
where much that was said could be understood.
"So ye sure seen them fellers git that 'ere nag, eh, Pete?" a rough
voice demanded.
"Bet yer life we did, Jim," came an answer, "an' they suspicioned, too,
as how somebuddy had brung it back; Jimmy an' me hearn 'em."
"Let 'em s'picion," growled another voice; "an' that's all the good
it'll do 'em. 'Tain't no use a-stayin' up no longer. Thought ye was
a-goin' to take all night, Colliver."
"Oh, I didn't hurry none, Woodie. An' don't ye begin to hand out no
sass, now. Yer gittin' ter be as bad as Jim Reynolds. Want us ter beat
it, hey? Fur five cents--"
"Quit scrappin'," interposed a voice, in loud tones, "an' turn in. Them
kids'll most likely be off by the time the sun gits up. That 'ere gold
mine is as good as ourn a'ready, boys."
The conversation continued, while the eager listener tried in vain to
gain a point of vantage which would enable him to get a view of the
camp. As he stood in the shadow of a tree, and looked overhead at the
spreading network of knotted branches, another bold idea entered his
head.
"And a mighty risky one," Dick reflected.
However, upon studying the situation, he became convinced that he could
climb the tree, take a quick observation, then hasten back to camp,
having covered himself with glory. The temptation was too strong to
resist.
Resting his gun in a safe place, Dick, with an earnest glance toward
the fire, prepared for action. Clasping arms and legs around the trunk,
he began to slowly work himself up. Active and muscular, the boy soon
grasped hold of a sturdy limb about ten feet from the ground, paused
an instant, and then, making one long effort, pulled himself safely
astride it.
"Whew!" he murmured. "That's work, all right. The rest of it ought to
be easy, though. Crickets!" The limb swung a bit, rattling its branches
faintly. "Gee! I'll have to be mighty careful."
With infinite care, he crawled from limb to limb, at length reaching
one which stretched directly toward the beacon of flaring light. Dick
crept a few feet along it, his nerves tingling with excitement, pushed
aside a bough upon which still clung a mass of faded yellow leaves, and
peered intently down.
The faintest sigh of satisfaction passed his lips. A picturesque sight
was before him. Lolling about beside a big fire were a number of men,
their faces weirdly illuminated by the flames. Pete and Jimmy sat on a
log, the former still talking loudly. Behind them, a number of bronchos
were tethered, some scarcely seen amid the trees.
Eager and excited, Dick Travers was in the act of counting the men,
when, to his horror, a loud crack suddenly reverberated.
As the limb began to bend beneath his weight, the boy barely managed to
repress a cry of alarm.