THE BLIZZARD
Jack extended his hand, and clasped that of Will's in a firm grip.
"This would have ended my hunting days if you hadn't fired," he said.
"Maybe he would have leaped over you," said Will. "He was coming very
fast."
"I saw he was. He'd have jumped right on me, too, and that would have
been the finish of yours truly. My, but that was a crack shot of yours."
"I didn't seem to take any aim. As soon as I saw him coming for you, I
seemed to get steady all at once, and I didn't tremble a bit."
"Lucky for me you didn't. My rifle went back on me just at the wrong
minute."
"What's the matter with it?"
"I don't know. I must take a look. It's risky to be hunting with such a
rifle."
Jack looked for the cause of the trouble, and found that in taking the
gun apart to clean it he had not screwed in far enough a certain bolt,
which projected and prevented the breech mechanism from working. The
trouble was soon remedied, and the rifle was ready for use again.
"Well, you can shoot the next buck," remarked Will as the two looked at
the carcass of the big animal.
"Not to-day. I'd shake worse than you did if I tried to aim. We'll do no
more hunting to-day. We'll go back and get Nat, and take this to camp.
There's enough for a week."
It was with no little difficulty that the three boys loaded the best
parts of the buck on their horses and started back to camp. They found
that Sam and Bony had arrived ahead of them, Sam having killed a fine
ram.
"Well, I know what I'm going to do to-day," remarked Jack the next
morning.
"What?" inquired Nat.
"I'm going to have another try at that mystery."
"Do you think it'll be safe?"
"I don't see why. I'm going to try to get to that camp from another
trail, and if they see me the worst they can do will be to order me away
again."
"I'm with you," declared Nat, and the others agreed to accompany the
senior member of the gun club.
They started directly after breakfast, Jack, Nat, Sam, Bony and Will.
Jack, making inquiries of Long Gun, learned of another trail that could
be taken. They rode along this for several miles, and then proceeded
cautiously, as they judged they were near where the hostile men had
their camp.
Suddenly Nat, who was riding along beside Jack, stopped his horse and
began sniffing the air.
"Smell anything?" he asked his chum.
Jack took several long breaths. Then he nodded.
"Gasolene, eh?" questioned Nat. "Cæsar's pancakes! but I believe we're
on the track of those same bogus certificate printers again!"
"It can't be," declared Jack.
"But smell the gasolene."
"I know it, but it might be from an automobile."
"An automobile out here? Nonsense! Listen, you can hear the pounding of
the engine."
Certainly there was an odd throbbing noise, but just as Jack was
beginning to locate it again the sound ceased.
"Never mind, fellows," he said. "We'll follow the smell of the gasolene.
I don't believe it's the same gang that we were on the trail of before,
but we'll soon find out. Keep together, now."
They went on for perhaps half a mile farther, when there was a sudden
motion among the bushes on the trail ahead of them, and a man's voice
called out:
"Halt!"
It was one of the three men who had, a few days previous, warned Jack
and Nat away.
"Where are you going?" the man demanded.
"We were looking for your camp," said Jack boldly.
"Our camp?"
The man seemed much surprised.
"Yes. We wanted to see what sort of a place you had. We smelled the
gasolene, and heard the engine, and----"
"Now look here!" exclaimed the man angrily. "You've been told once to
keep away from here, and this is the second time. The next time you
won't hear us tell you. We'll shoot without warning. And we won't shoot
you, either, for we think you're here more out of curiosity than
anything else, but we'll shoot your horses, and you know what it means
to be without a horse out here. So if you know what's good for you, keep
away."
"Yes," added another voice. "You'd better keep away from here, Jack
Ranger, if you don't want to get into trouble."
"Oh, it's you, is it, Jerry Chowden?" spoke our hero. "I wonder if your
new friends know as much about you as we do?"
"Never you mind!" exclaimed Jerry quickly. "You mind your own business,
and let me alone."
"That's what I've often wished you to do for me," spoke Jack. "Do you
know that there is a warrant out for your arrest if you ever come back
in the neighborhood of Denton?"
Jerry gave a frightened look over his shoulder. The man who had halted
the lads had stepped back into the bushes.
"You clear out of here, Jack Ranger. And you, too, Nat Anderson and the
rest of the bunch!" snapped Jerry, and then he drew from his pocket a
revolver.
"Look out, Jerry, that might go off," remarked Jack with a laugh.
"Don't you make fun of me!" ordered the bully. "I'm working here, and
I've got authority to order you away."
"That's right, Jerry, tell 'em to vamoose," added the man who had first
spoken, as he again came into view. "We don't want any spies around
here."
Another man joined the first, and the two looked angrily at the
intruders. They were armed with shotguns.
"What do you want?" asked the second man.
"Oh," said Nat lightly, "we just came to call on an acquaintance of
ours--Jerry Chowden. The police back East would like to see him, and
we've just told him."
"That's not so!" cried Jerry angrily.
"You're afraid to go back," added Jack.
"I am not! You mind your own business and clear out!"
"Yes, move on," ordered the first man, but Jack noted that he looked
closely at Jerry, as if to determine the effect of the charges made
against the bully.
There seemed to be nothing else to do, and the boys turned back.
"Beaten again," remarked Jack, as they headed for camp. "Well, there's
just one other way of discovering their secret."
"What is it?" asked Nat.
"Go down the mountain, directly back of their camp, only it's dangerous
because it's so steep. We can't take the horses. I'll try that way,
however, before I'll let Jerry Chowden laugh at us."
"So will I," answered Nat, and Sam and Bony said the same thing.
"I think we're in for a storm," remarked Will as they jogged along.
"It's beginning to snow."
A few flakes were sifting lazily down, and they increased by the time
the boys reached camp, where they found Budge and Long Gun busy
tightening the tent ropes and piling the wood and provisions within the
smaller supply tent.
"What's the matter?" asked Jack.
"Storm comin'," replied the Indian. "Plenty much bad. Git ready."
Early the next morning Jack and his chums were awakened by the wind
howling about their tent. It was cold, in spite of heavy blankets and
thick clothing.
"B-r-r-r!" exclaimed Jack as he crawled out and went to the flap of the
tent. Then he gave a startled cry.
"Boys, it's a regular blizzard!" he said.
Nothing could be seen but a white wall of fiercely swirling snowflakes,
while the wind was howling through the trees, threatening every minute
to collapse the tent. But Long Gun had done his work well, and the
canvas shelter stood.