ON THE TRAIL.
The boys were dumfounded by their loss. The theft was a most daring one,
and must have been committed within the past few minutes.
"Somebody will wish he had stayed honest," muttered Hamp, vengefully.
"I'm glad we all have our guns."
"There was only one thief," declared Jerry. "Look! you can see the dim
marks of his snowshoes. Here's where he turned the sleds around."
"And he's taking them back the way they came," added Brick. "In the same
ruts, too. He must have hitched them together."
"We'll catch him," said Hamp. "He can't have much of a start. Come on,
before it gets dark."
The boys started eagerly along the trail, unmindful of the wealth of
venison they were leaving behind.
At the end of half a mile they were not in sight of the thief. Jerry
bent down and scanned the sled marks.
"Something wrong here," he said. "The trail is no longer double."
The boys tramped up and down the valley, poking behind every rock and
into every clump of bushes and trees. Gradually they became widely
separated.
Suddenly a loud shout from Hamp drew his companions to him. His search
had proved successful.
Behind a fringe of bushes, at the very base of the left-hand mountain,
the faint ruts again appeared on the snow-crust.
"Now for a stern chase," said Jerry. "Have your guns ready, and don't
make any noise. This way."
The boys started briskly up the mountain side. Before they had taken
many steps they were agreeably surprised to find a broad and easy path
that followed a zig-zag course toward the summit.
The boys traveled faster. They were almost at the top of the mountain
now. Straight ahead the trail wound narrowly between two steep walls of
rock and timber.
Crack! the angry spit of a rifle echoed among the rocks. The ball
whistled close over the heads of the lads. They instantly dropped down
among the bushes, fearing another shot.
"Let's all fire at once," whispered Hamp.
"No, hold on," cautioned Jerry. "The rascal is safe behind the rocks."
The next instant a deep, growling voice floated down the ravine.
"Keep back, you chaps. The first one as comes a step nearer will get a
bullet through him."
The boys wisely made no reply. Under cover of the rocks and trees, they
crawled a few yards down the path.
"We're in a hole," said Jerry. "The thief is up there with the sleds."
"What are we going to do about it?" asked Brick.
"Well, we've got to have our traps back," said Jerry, "that's certain.
And there's only one way to do it. We must cut down the path as though
we were retreating. Then we'll make a detour and lie in wait for the
rascal and try to take him by surprise."
This plan offered much risk in spite of Jerry's confident words. But a
better course was out of the question.
So the boys rose, and tramped down the winding path, purposely making as
much noise as possible, to show that they were retreating. Half-way from
the bottom of the valley the boys turned to the left. They followed the
rugged mountain side for several hundred yards. Then they mounted
straight to the summit and crossed in safety.
Suddenly Jerry uttered a low cry. He sprang forward and snatched a
small, dark object that was lying in the snow.
"What is it?" exclaimed his companions.
"A tin dipper," was the reply. "It must have fallen off one of the
sleds."
Hamp instantly struck a match, and the flame revealed plain sled-marks
leading across the valley.
"We're outwitted again," groaned Brick. "This is awful luck."
"Yes; the rascal must have pulled out the minute he heard us go down the
ravine," said Jerry. "By this time he has a big start."
The situation of the lads was now truly deplorable. Yet their very
helplessness made it necessary for them to push on.
The trail of the sleds led to an easy pass in the opposite range of
mountains. The boys trudged rapidly through this, and emerged in what
seemed to be a broad, deep valley.
They pushed on for a quarter of a mile. Then they were stopped by a deep
and rapid stream, which was frozen along the edge.
But one match was now left. Hamp cautiously lit it, and it was instantly
seen that the thief had turned down the valley.
"We're still on the right track, anyhow," said Jerry. "We can't well
miss the rascal, either. He'll stick to the stream until he finds a
place to cross."
"He won't find one very soon," declared Hamp. "This is the Mallowgash
Creek, if I'm not mistaken. It flows into Chesumcook, and it's broad and
deep all the way. It's too swift to freeze."
"I don't see a speck of light ahead," said Brick, as he glanced down the
valley. "The thief must be still traveling."
"And that's what we've got to do," replied Jerry. "Come on."
An hour slipped by, and then another. The boys could hardly drag their
aching feet along. They yearned to drop down and sleep. But they knew
that if they succumbed to the temptation, they would never wake again.
Now the strip of open suddenly faded into a gloomy pine forest that grew
to the water's edge. The boys stumbled from side to side among the
trees, and presently came out of the forest into open ground. Some
distance ahead a ray of yellow light was visible.
"At last!" muttered Hamp. "We have run the rascal down."
"Yes; there's his campfire," said Brick. "I hope he's sound asleep."
"Not too fast, you fellows," whispered Jerry. "That light is too steady
for a fire. But we'll investigate and make sure."
He led the boys softly forward. They were moving off from the stream at
an angle now. The roar of the water grew fainter with every step. A few
yards ahead was a copse of tall bushes, which concealed the yellow
gleam.
The boys made a detour around them, and the next instant they were
fairly blinded by a dazzling glare of light.
Their eyes quickly became accustomed to it, and then they made an
unexpected and joyful discovery.
The light shone from a single window in the end of a long, low house
that stood some fifty feet away. The intervening space contained
several small sheds, and was strewn with felled trees, many of which had
been denuded of bark and branches. From the house came gruff voices and
an occasional peal of boisterous laughter.
"We've stumbled on a logging camp," exclaimed Jerry. "That thieving
rascal must be inside."
"He may be one of them," suggested Hamp. "What are we going to do about
it?"
"First of all, we'll take a peep," replied Jerry. "I don't believe the
thief belongs here. If he does, we'll get square treatment, though.
Loggers are mostly honest fellows, if they are a bit rough. Come on."