VANISHING OF LITTLE FAY.
For some moments after the strange man had disappeared the guide, the
professor, and the boys sat staring into the darkness in the direction
he had taken.
"Wa-al, dog my cats!"
The exclamation came from Old Rocks, who had ceased to pull at the black
pipe for the time being.
"Thot bates th' band!"
Barney Mulloy could not express the astonishment he felt.
"What can that mean?"
Professor Scotch rose from the hammock, asking the question in a
bewildered manner.
"I can tell you what it means," said Frank, also rising to his feet. "It
seems to me there is but one explanation. Fay told me her father was not
with her mother, that she had not seen him for a long time, and that her
mamma cried when he went away. I believe there was some kind of trouble
between the child's parents, and that the one who is known as the
hermit, who calls himself 'the man without a name or a home,' is the
father of that child."
"Wa-al," drawled Old Rocks, "you may be a tenderfoot an' a kid, but yer
has a little hawse sense. Ef you ain't right, I'll chaw my boots fer
terbacker!"
"It certainly seems that you are right, Frank," nodded the little
professor. "The man was drawn into the camp by your songs, he was
fascinated when he saw the sleeping child, and he fled, with a cry of
pain, when she murmured 'papa.' Yes, it seems quite certain that the
hermit is the child's father."
"Ef thet is right, things is comin' round sing'ler," said the guide. "Ef
you kids hedn't seen ther Injuns crawlin' up on ther bufferler you
wouldn't got inter ther scrape ye did; ef ye hedn't got inter thet
scrape ye wouldn't found ther babby; if yer hedn't found ther babby it's
likely she might hev starved ur bin eaten by wild critters; ef Frank
hedn't sung them songs ther hermit w'u'dn't come inter camp; ef he
hedn't come inter camp he w'u'dn't seen ther leetle gal; an' ef he
hedn't seen ther leetle gal we'd never suspected he wuz her father."
This was an unusually long speech for Old Rocks, who was given to short,
crusty sentences.
"Do you know where this man lives?" asked Scotch.
"Wa-al, I dunno prezactly, but I reckon I kin find him ag'in."
"That is important; he must be found. The mother of this child must be
taken to him. In that way a reunion may be brought about. Probably the
unfortunate woman is quite distracted to-night. In the morning we will
lose no time in finding her and restoring the child to her arms."
For some time they sat about the fire, discussing the strange events of
the day. Finally, all became sleepy, and it was decided that they had
better "turn in."
As Old Rocks seemed to sleep "with one eye open," they had not found it
necessary to have any one stand guard since he had been with them. No
wild animal could come prowling about the camp without arousing the old
fellow in a moment.
The fire was replenished, the flap of the tent left open, so the warmth
might enter, as the nights were rather cool, and the party retired.
In a short time all were sleeping soundly.
Frank's slumber was dreamless, but he was finally aroused by being
shaken fiercely.
"Git up hyar!" commanded a snarling voice.
In the twinkling of an eye he was wide awake and sitting up.
"What is the matter?" was the question that came from his lips, as, by
the dim light that came from the dying fire, he recognized Old Rocks
bending over him.
"Ther dickens is ter pay!" grated the guide. "She's gone!"
"She? Who?"
"Ther leetle gal."
"Fay?"
"Yep."
"Gone?"
Frank was dazed. He looked around and saw Barney and the professor
sitting up near at hand, but, sure enough, he could see nothing of the
child.
"Yep," nodded Old Rocks. "She ain't in this yar tent."
"But--but how----"
"Dunno how she done it 'thout wakin' me, but she's gone."
"It must be that the Hermit crept in here and kidnaped her."
"Begorro!" cried Barney; "Oi belave thot is roight!"
"It seems reasonable," said the professor.
"Whut d'yer think!" snarled Old Rocks; "fancy I'd snooze right along an'
let anything like thet happen? Wa-al, I guess not! Dog my cats ef I know
how it kem about, but there gal jest vanished."
"She appeared like a fairy, and like a fairy she has disappeared," said
Frank. "But she may be near the camp. We must lose no time in making a
search for her."
"Right ye are!" cried Old Rocks, as he led the way from the tent.
Hastening outside, they called to the child, but received no answer.
"Wait a little," advised the guide, as he replenished the fire. "Don't
go ter trompin' round yar too much. I wants ter look fer sign."
In this emergency they knew it was best to rely on his judgment, and so
they remained quiet, watching his movements.
Having started up the fire, the guide began looking for "sign." His eyes
were keen, and it did not take him long to find what he sought.
"Hyar's whar she left ther tent," he declared.
The others looked, but the ground told them nothing.
"That's foolishness," said Professor Scotch, sharply. "You don't mean to
say you can see anything here?"
"Wa-al, thet's whut I mean. You're a tenderfut, an' so yer can't see
anything. She wuzn't carried off."
"It is not likely she went away alone."
"Likely or not, thet's whut she done."
Bending low, Old Rocks followed the trail as far as the light of the
fire reached.
"I reckon I kin torch her," he muttered.
"What do you mean by torching her?" asked Scotch.
Old Rocks made no answer, but returned to the little pile of fuel he had
accumulated. This he quickly pulled over, selecting several sticks. He
thrust the end of one into the flames, and, in a few moments, had a
lighted torch.
"Git yer guns," he directed, "an' come erlong with me."
They did so, with the exception of the professor, who never touched a
weapon if he could avoid it. However, he followed the others, and Old
Rocks quickly took up the trail once more.
Frank was filled with anxiety for the safety of little Fay. He wondered
greatly that the child should arise and creep from the tent without
disturbing any one, and then flee into the darkness, but he did not
doubt that Rocks had read the sign correctly.
It almost seemed that the guide was able to follow the trail by scent,
for he moved swiftly, bending low, and holding the torch close to the
ground.
In vain Frank looked for a footprint. The ground did not seem soft
enough to yield such a mark, and still Old Rocks seldom hesitated a
moment.
Along the valley they went, stringing out one after the other, their
hearts throbbing with anxiety.
In this manner they proceeded at least half a mile, and then they came
to a stretch of timber. The trail led straight into the woods.
Old Rocks growled and shook his head, and it was plain that he was quite
as anxious as any of them.
For a moment they paused on the border of the strip of woods, while the
guide got down on his hands and knees and closely inspected the trail.
"Was she alone when she reached this spot?" asked Frank.
Old Rocks nodded.
"It's ther dernedest thing I ever heerd of!" he grumbled. "How a little
babby like thet should git up o' her own accord and go prowlin' off
inter ther night gits me."
"It is ridiculous," said Professor Scotch. "Such a thing never happened
before, and I can't believe it happened on this occasion. Why, she would
have been frightened out of her senses. Somebody must have lured her
away. That man you call the Hermit must have done it, and I will wager
something she joined him as soon as she left the tent."
The guide gave a snort.
"Thet's enough to say I'm a derned fool! Ef ther babby left a trail, you
will allow ther man must hev done ther same."
"Of course he did."
"Wa-al, looker yere. Hyar's a bit o' soft ground, an' you kin see whar
she crossed over, but I'll be derned ef you kin see any track but ther
ones she made."
He held the torch for them to examine the ground, and the tracks left by
the child were plainly visible. It was true that she had passed into the
timber alone.
"There's a mystery about this that I cannot understand," murmured Frank.
"It looks loike she wur a sure enough fairy," said Barney. "Av not thot,
thin this is th' Ould Nick's oun worruk!"
At this moment all were startled by a cry that came from the timber--the
cry of a child, broken and smothered.
Old Rocks straightened up, and the light of the torch fell on four pale,
startled faces.
"Something has happened to her!" panted Frank. "Forward, man, forward!
She may have been attacked by a wild beast!"
In another instant the guide was striding swiftly along the trail,
making it necessary for the others to run in order to keep up with him.
They penetrated the timber for a considerable distance, and then, of a
sudden, Old Rocks stopped short, stooping low to stare at the ground,
grinding an exclamation of dismay through his teeth.
"What is it?" demanded Frank fearing the worst.
After a hasty survey of the ground, the guide replied:
"Injuns! Ther leetle gal has been ketched by ther p'izen varmints, sure
as shootin'!"