A thin stream of smoke was rising from the hole in the roof of the
cabin. From the chimney volumes of vapor had suddenly begun to pour
out into the moonlight. The dim glow at the window now and then flared
up brightly.
"That spirit lamp must have set fire to something. Those men will be
burned to death. Come, we must try to get them out!" Horace cried.
They rushed together to the cabin door. It was barricaded on the
inside; they battered it with kicks and blows for a good half-minute,
and at last it yielded.
A gush of smoke and suffocating fumes burst out into their faces, and
the boys staggered back. The inside of the cabin appeared to be all in
flames, but it was so obscured by smoke that they could see nothing
clearly.
With the opening of the door the fire seemed to burn more fiercely. It
seemed impossible that anything could be alive in that place; but Fred
shut his eyes and dashed blindly in.
He stumbled over the body of a dog, and kicked it outside the door.
Choking with the smoke and the formaldehyde fumes, he took another
step, and his foot struck something soft; it was the body of a man.
Fred stooped and tried to pick the body up by the shoulders. Suddenly
through the smoke Peter appeared at his side, and helped him; together
they got the man out and laid him down on the snow. He was one of the
French Canadians, apparently lifeless.
"Is he dead?" gasped Fred to Macgregor, who bent over the prostrate
form.
The medical student peered under the man's eyelids, and felt his wrist.
"No," he said, "he'll come round all right in the fresh air. It's the
smoke more than the gas."
Horace came out at that moment, dragging Mitchell's limp body. The
red-bearded ruffian was alive, but unconscious; the boys placed him on
the snow beside his companion. Then all four of them rushed into the
cabin together, and succeeded in getting out the remaining two French
Canadians.
"Now the dogs! We must get them out!" cried Peter. That was not hard
to do, for the animals were lying close to the door.
The strong draft from the door to the chimney had by this time cleared
the atmosphere a good deal, and the boys saw that the fire was burning
chiefly among the couches of balsam boughs. The spirit lamp must have
scorched through the cord by which it hung, and dropped into a heap of
dry twigs.
The boys had no means of putting the fire out; the immediate need was
to rescue the provisions. They rushed in again, and each dragged out
an armful of supplies. They took a breath of fresh air, and then
hastened in again. Fred was reaching for a slab of bacon, when
suddenly something exploded almost under his hand.
He jumped back, almost fancying he had been shot at. _Crack! crack!
bang!_ went several other reports in quick succession, and this time he
realized what it must be.
"Run! The ammunition's going off!" he shouted, and rushed for the
open; as he ran, however, he caught up the piece of bacon.
Some of the rifle cartridges were exploding, one by one, and then two
or three together, and suddenly, with a tremendous bang, a whole box
seemed to go off.
Then the firing ceased, and after a short interval, the boys set to
work again to get out more provisions. The cabin was stifling now from
powder smoke, but they got what they could lay their hands on--a bag of
flour, a quantity of canned stuff, a kettle, a rifle; soon a great heap
of rescued supplies lay on the snow outside.
The flames, unable to ignite the solid logs of the cabin, were now
dying; evidently they would soon burn themselves out.
Mitchell at this moment gave signs of returning life. He opened his
eyes, stirred, and began to cough violently. They placed him in a more
comfortable position, and at the same time took the precaution of tying
his wrists and ankles securely with strips of deer-hide. The man
seemed dazed; he looked at the boys in amazement, and did not utter a
word.
Two of the French Canadians were also reviving, and the boys tied them
up in the same way. The fourth was in bad shape, and it took vigorous
rubbing to restore him to consciousness: if he had been neglected a
little longer he might have died.
They laid the captives out in a row on a pile of hemlock branches, and
lighted a roaring fire to keep them from freezing. Horace then went
through Mitchell's pockets, and recovered the sack of stones that Fred
had seen. He poured the glittering crystals into his hand, while
Mitchell looked on in black disappointment.
"My friend," said Horace, "you've taken a vast amount of trouble,
risked committing murder, and almost lost your own life for these
pebbles. Here, I'll give them to you." He poured the crystals back
into the pouch, and then flung the sack into the man's lap.
[Illustration: FLUNG THE SACK INTO THE MAN'S LAP]
The outlaw looked utterly bewildered.
"Ain't them diamonds?" he exclaimed.
"Fool's diamonds," Horace replied. "Maybe you can get five dollars for
the lot. If they were real diamonds, you might be a millionaire now."
Mitchell was evidently convinced, for he swore bitterly.
"I'm curious to know," Horace said, "how you came to hear that you
might expect to find diamonds hereabouts?"
"One of these breeds," said Mitchell sullenly, "got it from a brother
of his down by Hickson that a prospector had died here with a pocketful
of shiny stones that he'd picked up. I've prospected some myself. I
thought what these stones likely was, and I got together this crowd,
and--"
"We know the rest," said Peter. "You came on the same false scent that
we did." Then he turned to Horace, and whispered, "What in the world
are we going to do with these fellows?"
Horace wrinkled his brows in perplexity, and shook his head. "I don't
know," he said.
But whatever they did, they must first of all sleep. The fire in the
cabin had indeed burned out, but the place was so charred and smoky as
to be uninhabitable; so they built a huge camp-fire of logs on the
snow. Here they all passed the night,--there was not much left of
it,--and Peter, Fred, and Maurice took turns in staying awake in order
to watch the prisoners.
The next morning the boys prepared a great breakfast from the
recaptured provisions. They released the right hands of the captives,
to enable them to eat; the men showed no hostile spirit. Mitchell only
was sullen, as usual; the three French Canadians chattered gayly; they
had quite recovered from their suffocation. Four of the dogs were
lively, too; but one was dead.
After breakfast the boys inspected the cabin, and carried out the rest
of the supplies. Most of these were badly damaged. All the blankets
had been destroyed; the rifles were charred about the stocks, but could
still be used; the kettles and tinware were not much injured; but the
boys found only one box of cartridges that had not exploded.
Mitchell's dog harness was burned to pieces. Both the sledges had been
left outdoors, and were unhurt.
As they looked over the outfit, the boys discussed their plans. They
agreed that they should start for home at once. They were all anxious
to have the diamonds appraised, and there was not the slightest reason
for remaining. But the question what to do with the prisoners
perplexed them. They could not take them along, could not leave them
bound, and did not dare to set them free and restore their weapons.
Finally, however, the boys found a way out of the difficulty. They
divided the provisions and ammunition into two equal parts, and loaded
their toboggan with one of them. Peter then cut the four men loose.
"We'll treat you better than you did us," he said. "We're leaving you
half the grub, and there are some old deerskins here from which you can
make a new dog harness. We'll carry your snowshoes with us for two
miles down the river, and leave them there. We'll carry your rifles
three miles farther, and leave them in a conspicuous place, too."
Then the boys set out on their homeward journey. One of the Frenchmen
immediately started after them in order to pick up the snowshoes and
the rifles, but the boys soon left him far behind. They saw no more of
any of the outlaw gang, although, for fear of an attack, they kept
watch for the next two nights in camp.
None of the boys were in condition for fast travel, and the question of
supplies was a serious one. Horace thought it best to make straight
for the lumber camp where he had been so kindly received, and they
reached it on the third day. Here they spent a couple of days in rest
and recuperation, and were lucky enough to be able to buy enough beans,
flour, and bacon to last them to the railway. Again they set off, and,
after four days of hard tramping in bitter cold weather, they heard the
whistle of a train, faint and far away through the trees.
They all yelled with joy. It was like a voice from home. They began
to run, and in a short time they came to iron rails running north and
south through the snowy forest. Following up the line, they found
themselves at Ringwood, three stations north of Waverley, where they
had gone in.
The next train took them down to that point, and they went back to the
hotel, recovered their suit-cases, and put on town clothes again. It
seemed a long time since they had passed that way before, and collars
and cuffs were hard to wear. A great many curious eyes followed them
about the little hotel.
"Find any gold?" the landlord asked them, in an offhand manner.
"No," said Maurice. If he had inquired about diamonds, the boys would
have been puzzled what to say.
For the last time they packed their dunnage sacks on the battered
toboggan, and shipped it to the city. They traveled on the same train
themselves, and were in Toronto the next morning.
The boys parted with hearty farewells--Maurice going home, Macgregor to
his rooms, and Horace accompanying Fred to his boarding-house, where he
intended to find quarters for himself.
"And now for the great question!" said Horace, when they were once
indoors. "Are the diamonds worth anything, or are they not? I can't
think of anything else till I find out."
"Why, I thought you were sure--" began Fred.
"So I am--in a general sort of way. But I'm not a diamond expert, and
I may be deceived. It's just possible that the things may not be real
diamonds at all.
"But don't worry," he added, seeing his brother's startled face. "I'm
pretty sure they 're all right. But I'm going to take them at once to
Wilson & Keith's and get them appraised. They're the best diamond firm
in the city, and they'll treat me honestly."
Horace dressed himself very carefully, took his little sack of jewels,
and departed. He was gone fully three hours, and Fred waited in almost
sickening impatience. At last he heard Horace's step on the stairs,
and rushed out to meet him.
"What luck?" he cried eagerly.
"S-sh!" said Horace, drawing him back into the room. "It's all right.
They're diamonds!"
"Hurrah!" Fred shouted wildly.
"They were awfully keen to know where I got them, but of course I
wouldn't tell, except that it was in Ontario. They would have bought
the lot, I think, but I wasn't anxious to sell at once. They wanted me
to make a price, and I wanted them to make an offer, and both of us
were afraid, I guess. However, they're going to take care of the
stones for me and think it over."
"We must tell the other boys!" exclaimed Fred. "Can you make the
slightest guess at what the stones are worth?"
"Hardly--at present. Maybe a thousand or two. Three of them are too
small to be of any use at all, too small to be cut. The biggest has a
bad flaw in it; it could be used only for cutting up into what they
call 'commercial diamonds,' for watch-movements, and such things. Yes,
give Peter and Maurice the news, certainly, but do it by word of mouth.
Don't 'phone them. You don't know who may be listening.
"And be sure to warn them to keep the whole affair the closest kind of
secret. Wilson & Keith are going to exhibit the stones in their show
window, and you've no idea what an excitement will be stirred up.
We'll all be watched. People will try in every possible way to find
out where we got them. The newspapers will be after the story, and
there'll be all kinds of underhand tricks to trap us into letting out
something. Not that it would do much good, for none of you know enough
to be dangerous, but we don't want a dozen parties going up the
Nottaway River next spring. We 're going there ourselves."
Fred promised secrecy, and presently found that his brother had hardly
exaggerated the sensation caused by the little pile of dull stones on a
square of black velvet in the jeweler's window, labeled "Canadian
Diamonds." The newspapers were unremitting; Horace gave them a brief
and circumspect interview, and thenceforth refused to add another word
to his statement. He was besieged with inquiries. He had all sorts of
proposals made to him by miners and mining firms. One group of
capitalists made him an offer that he thought good enough to consider
for a day, but he ultimately rejected it.
Fred had his share of glory too, as the brother of the diamond finder.
It leaked out that Maurice and Peter had also been on the expedition,
and they were so pestered with inquiries and interviewers that it
seriously interfered with their collegiate work. But by degrees the
excitement wore off, for lack of anything further to feed upon. The
diamonds were withdrawn from exhibition, and the jewelers at last made
up their minds to offer Horace seven hundred dollars for the lot.
It was rather a disappointing figure. Horace took his diamonds to
Montreal and submitted them to two jewel experts there, who advised him
that they were probably worth little more, in their uncut form. The
cutting of them might develop flaws, or it might bring out unexpected
luster; it was taking a chance.
Returning to Toronto, he announced that he would take eight hundred and
no less; and after some arguing Wilson & Keith consented to pay that
price. The boys had a grand dinner at a downtown restaurant that night
to celebrate it. It was far from the fortune they had hoped to gain,
but they still had great hopes of discovering that fortune.
"It's more than enough to cover the expenses of your trip into the
woods this winter, and our next trip in the spring, too," said Horace,
"for of course this eight hundred is going to be divided equally
between us."
"Not a bit of it!" protested Mac. "You found the stones. They're
yours. We won't take a cent of it, will we, Maurice?"
"I should think not!" Maurice exclaimed.
Horace tried to insist, but the two boys stood firm. At last he
persuaded them to agree that the expenses of the expedition should be
defrayed out of the diamond money. As for their coming trip next
season, the matter was left to be settled later.
There was plenty of time to think of it, for it would be months before
the woods would be open for prospecting.