FOUND AND LOST.
The boys went cautiously forward among the obstructing trees, and soon
reached the end of the loggers' house. There was probably a hot fire
inside, for the window was raised several inches to admit fresh air. The
sill was not high from the ground, and the boys ventured to peep in.
They saw banks on two sides of the room. At the far end was a red-hot
stove. At the end nearest the window was a long table. Around this sat
half a score of burly, rough-looking men. All were smoking pipes but
one.
The exception was a tall, muscular fellow of about forty. His face was
covered with a stubbly red beard, and its expression was crafty and
brutal. Before him were a plate of food and a mug of coffee. He was
eating and drinking in the greedy fashion of a hungry pig.
The boys looked on for several minutes. They were too deeply interested
to be prudent. But, fortunately, none of the loggers glanced toward the
window.
All at once Hamp clutched Jerry's arm in a strong, excited grip.
"Look!" he whispered. "Over there are our sleds, against the wall."
"I see them," replied Jerry. "Hush! don't make any noise. I want to
hear what they are talking about."
The boys put their heads closer together. They looked and listened. The
conversation had been low and unintelligible. Now it suddenly rose to a
higher pitch.
"Whar've you been all this time, Sparwick?" demanded a red-shirted
logger at the head of the table, who seemed to be a leader among his
companions. "I reckoned you wasn't in this part of the country."
"I reckoned he was in jail," cried the man next him, with a loud guffaw,
and general laughter followed.
The red-bearded man, who was eating, lifted his face from the plate, and
scowled angrily.
"I didn't come here ter be insulted, Thomson," he replied, addressing
the first speaker. "I've been workin' with Bill Jordan's loggin' gang up
at the head of Chesumcook. I'm goin' down ter Bangor now fur a spell."
"Yer seem ter hev kinder struck it rich," pursued Thomson. "Two sleds
an' a lot of truck!"
"I borrowed 'em up at the camp," said Sparwick, carelessly. "I've got
spruce gum packed under the blankets. I oughter realize on it purty
handsome."
He glanced at the sleds; then tilted his chair back.
"Much obliged fur the grub," he added. "I reckon I'll take a sleep now,
so's ter pull out at daybreak."
"Look here, Kyle Sparwick," said Thomson. "We happen ter need an extry
hand badly. Can't you stay a day or two?"
Sparwick pulled at his short beard.
"I'm afeard not," he replied, slowly. "I've got pressin' business down
at----"
Bang! the window came down with a crash as Jerry's fingers knocked the
plug of wood from under it. The frightened boys jumped back. They heard
excited shouts and cries inside.
"Come on," exclaimed Hamp. "We must face the music. I think we're sure
of square treatment."
He led his companions around the angle of the house. Just as they
reached the door it was flung open by a noisy crowd of loggers.
The boys were dragged inside, and clamored at by a dozen indignant
voices. They tried vainly to explain. Finally Thomson restored a
semblance of order, and quieted the mob.
"Now, what does this here mean?" he demanded. "You chaps were sneakin'
an' spyin' outside that winder. Don't deny it."
"We didn't mean any harm," stoutly protested Jerry. "We can explain our
actions. We came here after our sleds. There they are in the corner, and
that's the man who stole them from us three hours ago."
He singled out Sparwick from the crowd, and pointed at him.
The detected thief was in a tight place, but he was not prepared to give
up. He made a bold attempt at bluffing.
"Them sleds are mine," he cried. "I'll wring yer neck, you young liar."
He sprang forward, and seized Jerry by the collar. He lifted him clear
off his feet, and swung him in air.
A chorus of indignant cries rang out. There was a rush from all sides.
"Drop the youngster," yelled Thomson; and when Sparwick refused to
obey, he struck him forcibly on the arm.
Jerry dropped to the floor, and quickly regained his feet.
"I'm telling the truth," he cried, huskily. "Those are our sleds. I can
describe every article on them."
The ruffian made another rush at the lad, but was jerked back. The
loggers seemed to be against Sparwick to a man. Evidently they knew his
reputation.
"Sit down thar," commanded Thomson, pointing to a chair. "An' don't yer
make no sneak fur the door. We'll get to the bottom of this affair. Now,
youngsters, spin your yarn."
The boys needed no second bidding. They spoke by turns, and gave a clear
and convincing account of their unpleasant adventure. They did not
forget to describe the thrilling slaughter of the deer. This part of the
narrative caused the loggers to open their eyes and stare
incredulously. They slapped their horny hands against their knees.
"That chap tells a heap what ain't true," said Sparwick, when Jerry
had finished the concluding part of the tale. "I found the sleds,
an' reckoned their owners had lost 'em. As fur me shootin' at the
lads--why, that's the biggest lie of all. I never laid eyes on 'em
until now."
But no one seemed to believe the rascal. Indeed, they heaped him with
ugly names, and made not a few unpleasant threats. Thomson interfered in
behalf of peace.
"Everybody knows that Kyle Sparwick can't keep his hands off other
people's property," he said. "He's seen the inside of more'n one jail.
Thar's where he oughter go this time, only I reckon no one's goin' ter
take him down ter Bangor. Now, I've got a propersition ter make
-pervided it suits these youngsters. If Kyle Sparwick will agree ter do
a week's work here we won't prosecute him."
This suggestion was approved.
"What's yer answer, prisoner?" demanded Thomson.
"I reckon it's yes," muttered Sparwick.
He added something in an undertone as his evil eyes glanced at the boys.
"Then the thing's settled," said Thomson. "You can tuck yerself into
that bunk yonder just as soon as you please. And now about that kill of
deer. We ain't had any fresh meat fur quiet a spell, an' I reckon it'll
taste good. Here's a propersition for you, youngsters. We'll bring the
venison to camp, an' give you all you kin carry. The rest we'll keep fur
our trouble. How's that?"
The boys gladly assented, and ten minutes later half-a-dozen of the
loggers started for the distant spot. They took with them lanterns, and
a long hand-sled. There was no time to lose, for wolves were likely to
scent the meat.
Thomson stayed behind and made himself agreeable to the young visitors.
He soon knew all about them, and when he heard they were going to
Chesumcook Lake, he gave them some valuable information about the
locality.
Then he instructed the cook to prepare a warm supper, of which the boys
ate greedily.
It was now close to midnight, and they eagerly took possession of the
cozy bunks that were assigned to them. The last thing they remembered,
before losing consciousness, was Kyle Sparwick's sleeping figure in
another bunk across the room.
Banging and rattling of dishes; clattering footsteps; angry voices and
shouts--this was what roused the boys after what seemed to them but a
few minutes' sleep.
They tumbled out of bed, and rubbed their eyes. At first they did not
know what to make of the confusion. The misty light of dawn was
struggling with the red glow from the cook's stove. The loggers were up,
and clustered together at one side of the room. They were clamoring, and
gesticulating, and uttering tremendous threats and oaths.
"Hello, youngsters!" cried Thomson. "Hev you heard the news? That
consarned slippery cuss is gone. We might a-knowed better than to put
any trust in Kyle Sparwick."
"How did he get away?" asked Jerry.
"Dunno. He must a-skipped off as soon as we wus all asleep--long about
two o'clock. He made a dummy outen a blanket, and an old hat, an' stuck
it in his bunk. There was a lamp burnin' dim on the table, too."
"I mind hearin' a noise," said a logger named Tommy Bobb; "but I was too
sleepy to do more'n sing out, 'Who's thar.'"
"You must a-skeered him," declared Thomson, "an' that's why he didn't
take nothing with him--not even his own gun. Thar it rests on the hook."
"He took something better than a gun," exclaimed Brick, who had
meanwhile been examining his pocket. "He took my gold watch, and a purse
with thirty dollars in it. I had some more money in a belt, but that's
all right."
This declaration caused a renewal of the excitement. The loggers
sympathized with Brick, and offered him rude consolation.
"How about you fellers?" asked Tommy Bobb of Hamp and Jerry.
They shook their heads and smiled. The contents of their pockets would
have offered no temptation to the meanest sort of a thief.
"I don't mind the money," said Brick; "but I hate to lose the watch. I'm
going after that sneaking rascal."
"No use, youngster," assured Thomson. "Sparwick has a big start. He took
an old boat what we had here, an' went down the Mallowgash. He'd have
clear water fur four miles. Then I reckon he'd strike deep inter the
woods. If thar was a chance of gettin' him we'd make up a party. How's
that, boys?"
"Dead right," exclaimed the loggers, in chorus.
Brick accepted this as final. He was anxious to start for the lake,
however, and so were Hamp and Jerry.
But just when breakfast was over the party returned with the dead deer
and the wildcat. This caused a delay. As soon as possible the deer were
skinned and cut up, and the meat divided. The boys were given all they
could carry.
Between eight and nine o'clock they were ready to start. They parted
with the friendly loggers, and tramped briskly across the clearing.
"I say, youngsters," Thomson yelled after them, "if you should run
acrost that sneakin' Sparwick, jest show a bold front, an' you'll have
him. He's a coward at heart, an' hates a gun barrel worse than pisen."