HAMP'S PERIL.
Neither Brick nor his companions expected to overtake Kyle Sgarwick.
They knew that what Thomson said was true. The thief was many hours
ahead, and possessed an intricate knowledge of the wilderness.
"I'll have to let the watch go," said Brick, in a resigned tone. "I
hated to lose it, because it was a present from my father."
"We may recover it at some pawnshop in Bangor, when we go back," replied
Jerry.
This cheered Brick up a little, and the conversation turned on brighter
topics. For mile after mile the boys tramped steadily down the
Mallowgash. The air was bitterly cold, but not sufficient to freeze the
dashing current and tumbling waves.
"We ought to be near Chesumcook," said Hamp, at length.
"We are," replied Jerry. "The logging camp is a good four miles behind
us. Pretty soon we'll get a view of the lake."
"And what then?" asked Brick.
"Well, I guess the best plan will be to get across the Mallowgash, and
push up this side of Chesumcook until we strike a good camping-place."
"That's just the thing," assented Hamp. "Come on. Let's walk faster."
Accordingly the boys quickened their pace. The roaring of the near-by
stream drowned the slight crunching of the snowshoes and sleds.
At length they reached a bit of a clearing that faced the Mallowgash.
Here they paused, startled and pleased by the strange sight that met
their gaze.
In the center of the stream was a submerged tree, drifted there by some
powerful flood. Only its upper limbs projected from the water. Caught in
these was a partly sunken boat. Its bottom had evidently been impaled on
one of the sharp, spiky branches. In the precarious and slanting
front-end of the craft stood Kyle Sparwick.
The rascal was naked, and in one hand he held his clothes, rolled
tightly into a pack. His back was toward the boys, and for half a minute
they watched him in silence.
"Serves the rascal right," muttered Hamp. "He must have struck there
hours ago. He couldn't get the boat loose, and now he's going to wade."
"I don't envy him," whispered Jerry. "He'll nearly freeze to death."
"I wish I had my watch and money," replied Brick; "but I don't see any
way to get them."
Just then Sparwick stepped from the boat onto the submerged trunk of the
tree. He shivered like a leaf, but without hesitation he lowered himself
into the icy water. It came almost to his neck. Holding his clothes
high overhead, he waded slowly toward the opposite shore.
"Stop, you thief!" shouted Brick, with all his might.
Sparwick nearly lost his balance. He recovered himself, and turned his
head. His eyes snapped with fear and danger when he saw the boys. Jerry
lifted his rifle, and leveled it across the stream.
"We want that stolen property," he yelled. "I've got the drop on you.
Wade over to this shore as quick as you can."
Sparwick stood still. He tried to speak, but his teeth chattered too
much. Then he did a bold and venturesome thing. He flung his clothes
safely beyond the heavy fringe of bushes that skirted the opposite bank
of the stream. The next instant he vanished before the eyes of the
amazed boys. He had dived clear under water.
"Watch for him!" yelled Jerry.
"Pepper him when he comes up," cried Brick, excitedly.
For half a minute there was silence. The boys eagerly scanned the
opposite shore. Then, thirty feet diagonally down stream, something
white slipped out of the water, and dodged like a flash into the bushes.
"What beastly luck!" cried Jerry. "I never dreamed of his coming up away
down there. He's out of reach now."
"And we can't get across," moaned Brick. "Good-by to the watch. I wish I
had fired when I had the chance."
"Hold on!" suddenly cried Hamp. "We've got a show yet."
He ran swiftly down stream to a point some twenty feet below, and
opposite to the place where Sparwick had left the water.
Jerry and Brick followed at a slower pace, wondering what was in the
wind. They understood as soon as they caught up with Hamp. Here the
Mallowgash abruptly widened. It was frozen hard from shore to shore with
the exception of a six-foot channel in midstream. Through this the water
poured with a swift, steady rush.
"Don't be a fool," expostulated Jerry. "You'll throw your life away."
"The watch ain't worth the risk," added Brick. "Let it go."
"Don't worry about me," cried Hamp. "That's an easy jump. Don't you
fellows try to follow me, though."
Before his companions could prevent him, he dashed forward, rifle in
hand. He sped swiftly over the first stretch of ice. With an agile leap,
he cleared the gap of rushing water, and landed on firm ice beyond.
Suddenly Sparwick crashed through the fringe of bushes. He was attired
only in a red flannel shirt. His face was blue with cold, and his beard
was a frozen mass of icicles. He glared at the daring lad, and uttered a
hoarse cry. In one hand he held a great clod of frozen snow. He drew it
back and let fly.
The whole thing was so sudden that Hamp did not have time to lift or use
his rifle. The heavy missile struck him forcibly on the breast. He
reeled to one side and slipped on the smooth ice. With a piercing cry,
he plunged into the swift water.
Sparwick instantly vanished behind the bushes. Well for him that he did
so. Had he lingered but a moment Brick or Jerry would have shot him in
their wrath.
Finding the ruffian out of reach, the two boys turned their eyes
anxiously on the open channel.
Hamp's head and shoulders bobbed to the surface half-a-dozen feet below
where he had fallen in. He still retained his hold on the rifle. He made
a gallant struggle for life, and succeeded in reaching the rim of ice
nearest his companions. He threw the rifle forward, and clung tight.
"Help! help!" he cried. "I'm nearly played out, boys. I'll have to let
go."
But Brick and Jerry were prompt to the rescue. With great strides they
crossed the ice, and soon had Hamp safely beside them. They dragged him
over to the bank, and dropped him in a clump of bushes. He was blue and
speechless with cold.
"Bring the sleds here, Brick," cried Jerry. "Quick, while I make a fire.
Hamp must have dry clothes and blankets right away."
Brick dashed off at full speed. When he returned, a moment later, Jerry
had heaped up a pile of brush and twigs. Hamp was taking off his
dripping clothes as fast as his numbed fingers would allow.
Just as Jerry scraped a match, a crunching noise was heard back from the
stream. It grew nearer and louder. The boys stopped their occupations,
and glanced in the direction of the sound. A moment later the bushes
parted and two men emerged.
The foremost was an old acquaintance, Mr. Silas Raikes. His companion
was a sinister-looking fellow, with a heavy black beard and mustache.
Both were armed with rifles, and a well-packed hand-sled trailed behind
them.
"Hullo!" exclaimed Raikes, in a tone of the utmost surprise. "We meet
again, my young friends. This is an unexpected pleasure. Not taking a
bath on such a morning as this, I hope."
"Hamp was compelled to take one," replied Jerry.
He briefly related the stirring events of the past twenty-four hours,
beginning with the start from the far side of Moosehead Lake. Meanwhile
the fire blazed up merrily, and Hamp got himself into dry clothes and
blankets.
"You've had a tough time of it, boys!" commented Silas Raikes. "I'm glad
to find that you weathered the storm all right. And so you're bound in
our direction? I had no idea you intended traveling to Chesumcook."
"That's what we told you the night you were at our camp," replied Jerry.
"Then I forgot all about it," admitted Raikes. "You see, I've got a bad
memory."
"Are you still prospecting?" asked Brick.
"Not in this weather," was the reply. "We're taking a sort of a
roundabout way home."
"We feared you were lost in the storm," said Jerry. "After it was over
we hunted the neighborhood for your camp."
"And didn't find it, eh?" laughed Raikes. "No wonder, lads. We had a
snug nest among the rocks, two miles or more from the lake. But pardon
me. I quite forgot to introduce my friend, of whom I spoke to you
before. This is Joe Bogle, from Augusta, Maine. We've been partners for
many a year."
The black-bearded man had been scrutinizing the lads--and Brick in
particular--with keen attention. Now he stepped forward, and nodded in
response to the introduction.
"I'm glad to meet any friends of my partner," he said, in a low, oily
voice.
A surprised and puzzled look appeared on Brick's face. He stared
intently at Mr. Joe Bogle.
"Haven't I met you before?" he exclaimed.