THE “WHINE” OF A BULLET.
“Wow! and again I say, wow!” broke out Giraffe, although rather feebly;
for the astounding admission made by Thad seemed to have almost taken his
breath away.
“Fired—on—by—the—hobo burglars?” gasped Bumpus.
“Sounds kind of interestin’, Thad; s’pose you tell us more about it?”
suggested Step Hen; who, strange to say, appeared to treat the matter in
a less serious vein than any of his companions.
Sebattis had raised his head at hearing what the newcomer said, and was
evidently taking note; Jim shut his teeth hard together, and assumed what
he no doubtless believed to be his “fighting face”; and he certainly
looked fierce enough, Bumpus thought, happening to glance that way.
“Well, let’s have a bite to eat, first, and after that’s done with, I’ll
tell you all there is to the story,” declared Thad, who was evidently
“some tired,” as Giraffe liked to put it.
Then there _was_ a hustle, as every one tried to do something about the
fire, so as to hurry things along; for it became evident that Thad was in
no humor to talk until he had refreshed the inner man.
“Some of you fellers go back and sit down; there’s quite too many cooks
around here, and it hinders things more than it helps. Jim and me c’n get
along faster if left alone,” and with these words Giraffe “shooed” Step
Hen and Davy into the background.
Presently the coffee was boiling, and there was a scent of cooking food
in the air. While the three returned hunters were munching their supper
the others hovered around. Seconds seemed like minutes to them; while the
latter took on the shape of long hours, so impatient were the boys to
hear what had happened.
But after a time Thad announced that he was satisfied; and assuming a
comfortable attitude, he started in to talk, the others hanging on his
every word, and frequently interrupting to ask questions, when a certain
point was not wholly understood.
“We tramped all morning, and never started any game worth bagging,” he
began. “Of course, there were partridges, and if we hadn’t been out after
deer we might have brought in a good-sized bag of the birds. But you know
how it is—when you’ve got your mind made up to have venison, these other
things only annoy you.”
“All the same,” remarked Giraffe, “partridges are mighty fine eating; and
I’m going to bring in a bunch some of these fine days, if Davy’ll loan me
his gun.”
As yet nothing had been said about the bee tree, or the black thief
Giraffe had bagged; and the boy was holding the news back, in order to
spring it on the deer hunters, in order to show them that they were not
the only ones who had met with an adventure since sun-up that morning.
“At nooning,” Thad went on to say, paying no attention to the
interruption, for he knew the failings of Giraffe only too well; “we
stopped to eat our snack, and figure out which way we wanted to tramp
between then and night. Eli had his mind set on getting a deer, and all
of us were willing to stay out till we had dropped one, even if it took
all of to-morrow.
“Then once more we made a start, changing our course, and intending to
cover a larger territory, by making a big sweep. And about three in the
afternoon we managed to start up a nice fat young buck, which fell to our
rifles.”
Davy was seen making motions with his hands just at this juncture, and
the others had little difficulty in reading the signs to mean that in
reality the said fat young buck had fallen to the rifle of the speaker,
Thad, himself; and if the others could claim any share in the glory, it
was small indeed.
“We hung the prize up,” Thad went on, “intending to come back for him a
couple of hours later; since Eli had an idea we might scare up another
deer in the country just beyond; and Davy was wild for a chance to try
his buckshot cartridges on one.”
“But it wasn’t any use,” broke in Davy just then. “We just tramped and
tramped till even Eli said there didn’t seem to be any more deer moving
just then. Besides, I complained of sore feet; and I guess that was one
reason why the others determined to turn back, pick up our young buck,
and strike for home.”
“The place where we had left the deer was about seven miles from here,
down the wind,” Thad continued; “and we just knew that with that tramp
ahead, carrying what we wanted of the deer, it would take us a good time
to get here. But no matter, we headed straight for the spot which Eli had
marked down in his mind as being the big tree, to a limb of which we had
hoisted our game.
“On the way, Davy, who had changed his shells, knocked over a couple of
partridges very neatly. They are in one of those bundles there. I only
mention this fact because Eli believes that the discharge of the
double-barrel gun had something to do with what followed.
“Pretty soon we came in sight of the big tree; at least it looked mighty
like the one we meant to find; but we had to rub our eyes, and look
again; for do you know, there wasn’t any deer at all hanging there? Eli
said he had made no mistake, and Davy was as sure as I was that it must
be our tree all right.
“Just then one of us discovered that there was something lying at the
foot of the tree, that had the look of a deer, and we hurried forward.
Davy hadn’t forgotten about the wolves we heard howling, and was saying
that they must have dragged the buck down in some way. But Eli knew
better, and that it could not be the work of any wolf that ever trotted
on four legs.
“Then we came closer, and saw a sight that made us furious,” Thad went
on, a frown on his usually placid brow. “There was our lovely little
buck, all carved up as fine as you please, and by one who knew just how
to do the business, too. The best pieces had been carried away, and we
were left only what might have done for the foxes or wolves!”
“Whew!” burst out the impulsive Giraffe, “say, that was enough to make
anybody as mad as hops. I can just see Davy here jumping around like fun.
Of course you looked for a trail, didn’t you, Thad?”
“That was the very first thing we did,” resumed the other; “and there
wasn’t any trouble about finding one either; for Eli said they had jumped
off in such a big hurry he just knew they must have heard Davy’s shots,
and expected that we were coming back for our game. Well, there wasn’t
any use crying over spilt milk, boys. But we were so much upset by our
misfortune, and so mad at those fellows, that we just started off on
their trail.”
“Meaning to hold them up, if only you overtook the bunch?” suggested
Bumpus, who was listening with all eagerness, his eyes round with
interest.
“Oh! well, none of us hardly knew what we meant to do,” Thad answered; “I
rather guess our only thought just then was to try and recover the fine
venison those two rascals had robbed us of.”
“Then there wasn’t three of them again?” asked Giraffe, quickly; and Thad
smiled as he turned toward the tall scout, saying:
“I was just wondering whether any of you would notice that, when I said
it; but the fact is, there were only a pair of ’em; and Eli’s about come
to the conclusion the third man must be sick, or badly wounded. Well, we
did start off at a hot pace, Eli of course doing most of the trailing.”
“But just hold on there, Thad,” interrupted Davy Jones; “you know well
enough that three separate times you found the tracks when Eli had lost
the trail; and didn’t he say prompt enough that, for a boy, you certainly
did show a heap of smartness?”
“I think we must have followed that trail about a mile;” Thad went on,
giving Davy a smile for his compliment; “and it was beginning to get dusk
a little, when all of a sudden a gun banged away, somewhere ahead, and we
heard the whine of a bullet passing over close above our heads.”
“Say,” and again Davy broke in to express his own individual feelings in
the matter, “none of you fellers ever was shot at, and I just guess now
you can’t understand the queer feeling it gives you. I felt like the pit
of my stomach had kind of caved in, and there was a gnawing just like you
have when you’re _awful_ hungry. And when Thad says that there bullet
‘whined’ over our heads, he hits the mark all right, for that’s what it
sounded like. I dropped flat on my face in the scrub, and lay as still as
a ’possum playing dead.”
“We all dodged some, I imagine,” remarked Thad, with a smile at Davy’s
words. “I know I found myself behind a tree in pretty short order. Eli
began to creep up, and it seemed rather exciting about that time. Even
Davy and myself started to advance. And pretty soon there was Eli,
calling to us to come on, because there was no longer any danger, for the
birds had flown.”
“Skipped out, just like that,” and Davy, snapped his fingers
contemptuously; “all the while we kept laying low, and trying to see if
we could glimpse anything to bang away at. It was bad luck.”
“Well,” Thad resumed his story by saying, “with the night at hand, and
the two venison thieves a good half mile away by that time, even Eli saw
that it was useless trying to overhaul ’em. So we concluded to make our
way back to where our buck had lain, take what we could get of the
remains, and then start by slow stages for the cabin here. But we had
little to say on the way, for it seemed more like a funeral procession
than the return of a victorious hunting party.”
“And I’ll own up I was pretty nigh tuckered out,” admitted Davy. “That’s
one reason why Eli and Thad decided to come along home. Been limpin’ the
better part of the way, and I guess I’ve got a stone bruise on my heel
that don’t feel any too fine. But I’ll be all right to-morrow, fellers;
and then just see what we do to them that would take the bread away from
your mouth, if they had the chance.”
The others looked to Thad, as though what Davy had just said gave them a
cue.
“Is that the game, to go back there in the mornin’, an’ take up the
trail?” asked Giraffe, excitedly.
“This here seems to be the real thing, all wool, and a yard wide,”
muttered Bumpus; and then brightening up, he continued, with increasing
earnestness: “and then, if we should find a chance to capture those
slippery rascals, just think what we could do with all the nice money
that’s offered for their apprehension? Didn’t our friend the sheriff say
it was a whole thousand, and might be twice that by now? Count me in,
Thad, I want you to know, if we’re going to round up these bank burglars.
You may wonder why I’m so fierce about it; but you forget that my dad is
the president of our bank at Cranford; and who knows but what it might a
been that institution these hoboes looted. I’ve got a personal interest
in this matter, and I ain’t going to be left out of any deal either, just
remember that!”