THE POACHER OF LONESOME POND
Hal and Walter stood at the landing waiting for the launch with the
day's mail and express matter. There had been an unfortunate error in
ordering the needed photographic chemicals, and Walter was still in
ignorance of the results of his trip to Lonesome Pond. As the packages
were thrown out his eye caught the familiar label of the photographic
supply house.
"Hurrah!" he shouted, pouncing on the long-looked-for package, "I'm
off to get first crack at that dark room. Want to come in with me
while I develop, Hal?"
"I sure do," was Harrison's prompt response. "I'm almost as anxious as
you are to know what you've got on those films. The results may make a
big difference to us Senecas, you know. We can't give the Delawares
many more points."
As they started toward the office Big Jim and a stranger passed them
talking earnestly. The latter had come in the launch. He was a man of
medium build. His hair and eyes were gray, the latter clear and keen.
There was nothing to especially distinguish him from the general run
of guides of that region.
"Who is he?" asked Hal of Billy Buxby, who had saluted the stranger.
"Game warden," replied Billy, briefly. "Been a lot of deer shootin'
round these diggings, so they say, and the big chief has been trying
for some time to get the warden up here. Now he's here I reckon
there'll be something doing."
Walter thought of his experience at Lonesome Pond, and wondered if the
warden would go in there. As the boys passed through the office to the
dark room Dr. Merriam, Big Jim and the warden were in earnest
conversation.
"Whom do you suspect, Jim?" It was the warden who spoke.
"Red Pete," replied the guide promptly. "But yer understand I ain't
got a mite o' proof. Ain't seen hide nor har o' him, but I've seen
signs thet spells Red Pete t' me. O' course some o' th' boys up t'
th' camp will go out and get a piece o' meat once in a while, but thet
ain't doin' no great harm."
"It ought to be stopped, Jim!" the doctor broke in sharply. "The law
is law, meant for the lumber-jack just as much as for the city
sportsman. I have no patience with this attitude of the natives that
the law is made for the other fellows, not for them. Either the laws
should be wiped off the statute books or they should be enforced to
the letter without discrimination or favor."
"Thet may be so, doctor, but folks 'round here don't sense it thet
way," replied Big Jim. "Anyway, th' real harm thet's bein' done th'
deer is from some low down skunk thet's too lazy t' do honest work an'
is jes' shootin' fer th' lumber camps. An' if it ain't Red Pete may I
never sight another rifle! Nobody knows whar he is, or if they do they
won't tell. You git yer hands on Red Pete, and this deer shootin' will
stop."
The boys passed into the dark room and heard no more. Walter at once
prepared his developer and also a fresh supply of hypo, for he was
resolved that no precaution should be neglected to get all that might
be in the negatives.
"Going to use tank development?" asked Hal.
"No," replied Walter, "I'm not. Ordinarily I should, but I'm going to
give each of these films separate treatment, and develop each for all
that it holds. You know I want another fifty points," he added.
The daylight subjects were developed first and, with the exception of
one fogged across one corner, were all that could be desired. Walter
was particularly pleased with the results of his first successful
shots on the way in to Lonesome Pond, and as the image of the great
blue heron rapidly increased in strength under his skilful
manipulation of the developer he confided to Hal how his rattled
nerves had led him to miss two splendid chances previous to the
opportunity afforded by the heron.
A portrait of Big Jim holding up Walter's double catch of trout would
have been hard to improve, and Hal, looking over the other's shoulder,
blushed as he recalled the big trout he had bought only to be beaten
by the catch of which he now saw the proof growing before his eyes.
For the flashlights Walter prepared a special developer, and as it
washed over the first film both boys bent over the tray eagerly.
Almost at once three spots, one slightly above the other two,
appeared, and these rapidly took outline until the eager watchers
could see clearly the doe and three fawns of Lonesome Pond.
"Hip, hip hurrah!" shouted Hal, slapping Walter on the back. "There
are your fifty points for the Delawares!"
"Now for the last one of all," said Walter as, the others all in the
hypo, he picked up the negative made by the flash on the runway. "I
knew what ought to be on the others, but I don't know what ought to be
on this except that it ought to be a deer."
He bent impatiently over the tray, gently rocking the developer back
and forth over the negative. Presently he looked up, and in the dim
ruby light Hal could see a puzzled frown wrinkling his forehead.
"That's the queerest thing I ever got up against!" he exclaimed. "I
can make out the horns of a big buck, but they seem to be all mixed up
with the figure of a man. If I hadn't taken such mighty good care of
these films I'd say that it was a case of double exposure. Must be
that I had another case of rattles, and forgot to pull the tab of the
one made just before the flashlight, and so made the latter right on
top of the former. Yet this doesn't act like an over-exposed negative,
and a double exposure would be an over-exposure. Oh, well, I give it
up! We'll see what it looks like when it comes out of the hypo. Here
it goes in. Now open that door, Hal, and I'll open the window. I'm
about roasted."
Hal threw open the door and the two boys stepped out into the office.
The doctor was still there, but Big Jim and the warden were nowhere to
be seen. At the sound of the opening door the doctor looked up.
"We beg your pardon, doctor, and hope that we haven't disturbed you,"
said Walter.
"Not in the least, Upton," he replied smilingly. "I presume you have
been developing those Lonesome Pond negatives, and to tell you the
truth I am almost as anxious to see them as you are yourself. You see
Big Jim has told me all about that trip, and he was positively
enthusiastic over the flashing of the three deer."
The doctor came over to the dark room and stepped in. "I presume they
are about fixed by this time," he said, dipping his hand into the
fixing bath and taking out a negative. He held it to the light and
examined it critically. "Just a trifle over time, don't you think,
Upton? Still it is an excellent negative, and the composition is
admirable. Hello, what's this?" He had dropped the first one into a
tray of running water and had picked up a second which he was turning
round and round in his hands as if he hardly knew which was top and
which was bottom. "Ha, I have it!" An expression of perplexity passed
over his face and his brows puckered. "What's this, Upton?" he asked.
"I didn't hear anything about any such photo as this."
Walter stepped behind him and looked at the negative the doctor was
holding to the light. At first he could make nothing of it but a
tangle of foliage. Then suddenly he saw against this background the
figure of a man stooping beneath the burden of the body of a deer
across his shoulders. Walter's mouth gaped foolishly as he studied
the negative.
"What does it mean, Upton?" the doctor repeated, a twinkle in his eyes
as he saw the boy's vacant look.
"I don't know, sir," replied Walter truthfully enough.
"But the negative is yours, isn't it?" persisted the doctor.
"Yes, sir. No, sir. That is--why, of course it must be mine," replied
Walter confusedly. "I don't understand it at all, sir."
"How many flashlights did you make?"
"Two; the one of the three deer and the one on the run. This----" He
paused as it flashed over him for the first time that this was a
flashlight negative.
"Yes," said the doctor with a quizzical smile, "this is one of them.
And as it certainly isn't the one of the three deer it is the one on
the run."
"But--but what does it mean?" asked Hal, looking over the shoulders of
the others.
"It means," said the doctor gravely, "that Upton has secured the
evidence that will convict the poacher of Lonesome Pond."
He dropped the film back in the fixing bath. "I see it is not quite
clear yet. Fix and wash it thoroughly and then if you can, Upton, I
wish you would make a print from this before Jim and the warden return
to-night. They have gone up to the Durant camp to look about a bit. I
must request you both to say nothing whatever about this matter until
I give you permission. And of course you understand that the
photograph is to be shown no one. Bring the prints to me as soon as
you have them made. If you have time make a print from each of your
other negatives. We'll entertain the warden on his return."
By noon the films were dry and by three o'clock that afternoon a
complete set of prints was in Dr. Merriam's hands. Late in the
afternoon Big Jim and the warden returned, and shortly after the
doctor sent for Walter.
"Warden," said he, "this is Upton, the lad who was with Jim at
Lonesome. I've called him in thinking you may like to question him a
bit as to conditions at Lonesome, and also that he may have the
pleasure of showing you some photos in which I know you will be
interested, as will Jim also. I tell you, warden, some of our boys are
doing great work here! It takes something more than mere knowledge of
photography to get such pictures as these! The man behind the camera
has got to be something of a woodsman, as I think you will admit when
you have looked these over."
As he finished speaking he handed the package of prints to Walter face
down, and the boy, noting that they were numbered in consecutive
order, instantly realized that this was a cue for him to show them in
that order. As one by one the prints were laid on the desk Big Jim
bent over them with all the enthusiasm of a great overgrown boy,
telling the warden the story of each and making comments that made
Walter blush to the roots of his hair. When the beautiful picture of
the doe and her two fawns was put before him Jim's delight was without
bounds.
The doctor smiled. "So you think that's pretty good, do you, Jim?" he
asked.
"Good? It's the best I ever see!" exclaimed the guide.
"Upton has one that will interest you still more, I think, Jim. Show
it, Upton."
The warden and guide leaned forward eagerly as Walter placed the last
print on the desk. For a full minute there was absolute stillness as
the two men studied the print in surprised astonishment. Walter will
never forget the expression on the guide's face as he stared first at
the doctor, then at Walter and finally back at the print, while slowly
comprehension of what it meant dawned.
"What did I tell yer?" he roared, smiting the desk with a huge fist.
"What did I tell yer? Didn't I say it was Red Pete? Is this evidence
enough for yer, warden?"
"It's evidence enough, Jim; but say, I haven't got this through me
yet. You didn't tell me anything about seeing Red Pete, let alone
taking his photograph. It's a wonder he didn't put a knife in you for
that."
Jim laughed. "I expect he would if he was sure what had happened," he
replied. "Yer see thet thar buck must hev taken one o' th' other runs
an' reached th' lake, where Pete was laying fer him. Pete potted him,
an' then waitin' just long enough t' bleed him an' take out his
innards (I found 'em th' next mornin') he dug out 'fore we should come
snoopin' round. He jes' happened t' hit th' run th' camera was on, an'
o' course he fired th' flash. Oh, glory! I wish I could hev seen his
face right after thet flash! I bet every black har on his head was
standin' on end an' thet Pete was reelin' off prayers t' every saint
he's ever heard o' as fast as his tongue could go!"
"I notice that he held on to the deer," observed the warden dryly.
"You bet he did!" replied Jim. "Thet flash jes' naturally blinded him
fer a few minutes, an' he couldn't see nothin'! Then he heered us
comin' on th' jump an' he didn't hev no time t' look fer th' camera
an' bust it. He jes' hit th' trail double quick a-trustin' t' luck
thet we didn't git nothin'."
"This is all the evidence I want," said the warden. "Doctor, I want
you to let me have Jim for a couple of days. I need him, for Pete's a
slippery customer, and it'll need two of us to surprise him. We'll
start for Lonesome early to-morrow morning, and the less said about
our movements the better. Remember, boy, mum's the word," he added,
turning to Walter.
Jim had been studying the photograph closely. "Whopping big buck
Pete's got thar!" he remarked, then added sharply, "Son, come here an'
tell me if this is a scratch on th' picter or if it's in th' picter!"
The guide was pointing to a tiny white line on the shoulder of the
deer. Walter examined it closely. "It's in the picture," he said
slowly. Then, a startling idea slowly forming in his mind, he looked
up at the guide, who instantly read his thought.
"Yes," said the big fellow with angry bitterness. "It's him. It's the
King o' Lonesome Pond, th' big buck you 'n' me trailed thet mornin',
murdered by a half-breed cutthroat who'd treat you 'n' me jes' th'
same if he dared, an' he could see a dollar in it. I'm ready t' start
when you are, warden, an' th' sooner I see his ugly mug behind th'
bars th' sooner I kin enjoy my vittles agin."
When the name of Red Pete was first mentioned it had sounded strangely
familiar to Walter, but try as he would he could not place it. Now as
he studied the photograph he recognized the low-browed, surly axeman
who had been in the waiting room at Upper Chain the morning of his
arrival in the woods, and there flashed through his mind Big Jim's
characterization of Pete that morning as the "meanest man in th'
mountains." How little he had dreamed that their lines would ever
cross, and now--he shivered involuntarily as he wondered what the
outcome would be and what would happen if the outlaw should chance to
learn of the evidence Walter now held in his hand.
"I--I guess you'd better keep the film and the prints," he said,
turning to Dr. Merriam, and breathed easier as the doctor took them.
Then excusing himself, he hurried out to find Hal and warn him not to
breathe a word about the second flashlight picture.
Did Red Pete suspect? And if so what if he should happen to meet him
alone in the woods? For the next few days he seldom went far from
camp, and never alone. Even then he had the feeling of being watched,
and would turn suddenly half in fear and half in hope that he might
catch a glimpse of the breed's threatening face peering from some
leafy screen. Walter's nerves were playing him tricks. Nor did they
become any easier when the warden and Jim returned empty handed from
Lonesome Pond. They had found plenty of traces of the poacher, in fact
had found his camp, but it was evident that the outlaw had transferred
his headquarters elsewhere.
Owing to other business the warden was obliged to postpone the search
for the time being, but left with a promise to return at an early date
to run Pete down. In the meantime Walter continued to feel uneasy, and
the lumber camp to enjoy fresh "veal."