CHAPTER XIX
Across the Snows for Safety
"Hist! Hist! Here, good dog!" Hank called gently to the huge bruteslinking towards himself and Joe, as they lay outside the winterbivouacs of Hurley and his men, and held forward a tempting morsel offlesh. Even our hero could scent the pleasing aroma from the morsel;for the little hunter had so contrived with his covering of snow thatthere was considerable warmth in it yet, while the frosty air seemed toaccentuate the aroma. But it was a toss up as to whether the beastwould suddenly give tongue or would slink still nearer and accept theproffered dainty.
"Good dog!" called Hank again. "Here's summat for yer."
Perhaps his soothing voice had something to do with the matter. It mayhave been even that the brute realized, as dumb brutes do, that he wasface to face with one well acquainted with his brethren. Suffice it tosay that his bristles subsided and he sidled up, wagging his tail, hisnose snuffing at the morsel. Hank patted him at once.
"Here's more o' that," he said. "Lie down! Now, where aer the others?It aer more'n likely that they've gone in with the men, and ef that'sthe case it'll be a job to get 'em out, to say nothing of puttin' theharness on 'em. See here, lad; I'll stay with this brute, so's toquiet the others ef they come out. You creep in a bit closer and scoutaround; I ain't yet quite sure how things aer. Take a piece of themeat with you, and ef a dog runs out, jest pitch it towards him."
It may be imagined that Joe needed no further orders. He was on handsand knees at once, and began to creep towards the lean-to. In a littlewhile he was within a dozen feet, and, wriggling his way into aposition of advantage, he was soon able to look right in, the firelighthelping him greatly. A jumbled heap of bodies, legs, and arms met hiseyes, with the sleeping forms of dogs inextricably mixed up with them.He saw, in fact, a typical residence of the half-breed. These men, ofa degenerate class themselves, and careless of everything so long astheir own comfort was assured, had turned into their lean-to withoutremoving so much as a garment, which is not to be wondered at,considering the cold, and, throwing themselves down higgledy-piggledy,had called to the dogs, who had promptly accepted the invitation, and,thrusting their way into any odd corner and the most comfortable nooks,had settled themselves down to sleep till the call of a new day arousedthem. But there was something more which attracted Joe's attention.There seemed to be so few dogs, perhaps half a dozen in all, while eachof the sleigh teams mustered nine or ten.
"Couldn't swear to the number," he told himself, "but there are not twoteams here, of that I am certain. Where, then, are the others?"
Looking to right and to left gave him no help. It was clear that hemust search for them elsewhere, so promptly he crept away in thedirection of the second lean-to. It happened, too, that his path tookhim to the end of this farthest removed from the spot where the firewas blazing. Indeed, it was only native caution which caused him tomake for that end; for had he crawled towards the fire, its brightflames would have betrayed his presence instantly to anyone happeningto look out. Hurley, he knew, was a suspicious, restless individual,so that the merest whimper from one of the dogs, even a rustling of thesnow, might bring him into the open.
"I'll give him no chance to spoil our plans," said Joe, kneeling up totake a good look about him. "First thing is to take a squint into thelean-to. There's a light somewhere inside, I fancy, so perhaps Hurleyis sitting up and making plans for the next attack. Hope he ain't,though; I'd rather he were asleep, worn out by all that's happened."
Crawling along on hands and knees, it was a little time before he cameto the lean-to. A glance over his shoulder now told him that Hank hadcome a trifle closer, and still had the dog beside him. Knowing,therefore, that he had someone to give him a warning should thehalf-breeds suddenly emerge, Joe very gently separated two strips ofbirch bark which closed in a portion of this Canadian dwelling. Thenhe applied his eye to the aperture, only to find that he was staringright across to the far side of the lean-to, and that neither Hurleynor anyone else was within his vision. There was a roll of flamingbark within two feet, however, spluttering and smoking gently.
"No good here," he thought. "Must try the other side, and a triflelower down. Hallo--dogs! George--they're lying just outside thisshanty!"
Joe had risen to his feet now, though still stooping, and as he peeredover the far end of the flimsy erection he caught sight of quite anumber of dogs stretched within easy distance of the fire, huddled intoone close body, and all fast asleep. After all, there was nothingremarkable in that, or of sufficient importance to cause hisexclamations, save, of course, their proximity to himself. For thesedogs, bred in the Arctic zone almost, and in any case upon its fringe,can stand a degree of cold which would rapidly kill a human being.Warmth they like, just as do most animals, but they can resist aCanadian winter in remarkable manner, and are capable of sleeping inthe open. In any case, there they were, bundled together, sleepingdeeply, no doubt tired after a hard day with the sleigh.
"But they'll rouse any time," Joe told himself. "If there weren't snowabout to deaden my steps, they'd have kicked up a row already, unless,of course, they take me for one of their masters."
Perhaps that was the reason of their tranquillity. Satisfied that theyhad not detected him yet, Joe crept round to the far side of thelean-to and, boring another aperture, peered in. And on this occasionhis efforts won a greater reward; for Hurley lay before him. His bulkyform was stretched full length on one of the sleighs, his face turnedaway from the light; a rifle was propped beside him, while closeagainst the sleigh was that same wooden box which we have alreadydescribed. For the rest, there was nothing more to comment on.Travellers during a Canadian winter are few and far between--we speakhere of the backwoods--and such as there are carry merely necessaries,so that a humble lean-to contains little else but the traveller. Therewas Hurley, in fact, alone, and with a weapon beside him. The box wasof no consequence, though, if only Joe could have guessed that only afew hours ago that precious document was spread out on it, it is likelyenough that he would have shown more excitement. But there was no signof the envelope. Doubtless the sleeping Hurley had it in an innerpocket. Joe bore in mind Hank's warning, and promptly used all hiswits to bring about an escape from the ruffian.
"Can't bother about the document or letter," he told himself. "We'lltackle the man; but how, is the question? It's clear that he hashauled the sleigh in to make a bed, leaving the dogs still attached toit. That would be fine for us, if it weren't for the fact that Hurleyhas fallen asleep on it. Then there's the gun; fancy I can reach that,anyway."
He stretched the opening a little wider, stood well above it, andreached in.
"Can't!" he told himself, with an exclamation of vexation. "Try again."
This time the roof of the lean-to bent inward as he pressed upon it,then his fingers hit upon the muzzle of the weapon. Joe gripped itfirmly, drew gently on it, and slowly extracted the gun through theopening.
"Makes things easier a whole heap. When he wakes he'll have to lookabout for another weapon, unless he's got----" He pulled at theopening and again stared in at the sleeper. "No sign of a shooter.Hooray! Things begin to look a little better. I'll get hold of Hankand have a chat with him."
Within three minutes the two had retired a little and were discussingmatters in voices raised hardly above a whisper. Hank kneeled on thesnow, one arm about the dog he had coaxed into friendship, and whoseemed to have taken a huge fancy to him. The little man listenedcarefully to our hero's description, and made no comment for a fewmoments; then, of a sudden, a gurgling laugh came from some point deepdown in his throat.
"Ef we don't win out I ain't Hank," he smiled. "Now, jest listen.This aer the movement; Jimmy here--that's this dog, and I christenedhim Jimmy 'cos that's the name of a beast I had once when huntin' inthe backwoods--Jimmy goes along up to his friends sleeping outside thelean-to and wakes 'em. He lets 'em understand that things are right,and that there's a new friend come to the
camp. You needn't look as efyou didn't believe it could be, young chap. You've got to rememberthat there's a moon. Ef it were pitch dark it would be different, forthen the dogs couldn't see us. A beast barks at any sound on a darknight, while with a moon, ef he kin see right off what's caused theruction, he don't always give tongue. Anyway, we try the plan. Ef itfails, we'll have to make a rush at the brutes, put 'em into line, anddrive 'em. But here's the rest of the scheme. This is your part."
"Ah! What? I'm ready."
"In course you aer; couldn't I tell that from what you've done thislast five minutes?"
"Well," said Joe impatiently, "you look to the dogs. That's right, foryou know a heap about them. What do I do?"
"Settle Hurley."
"Eh? Kill him? I----"
"You don't need to be thin-skinned, young chap. This ain't a time ferkilling; I'll do that fast enough ef it comes to a tussle between us.What you've got to do is to rouse him off the sleigh, and then smotherhim so's he can't get clear of the lean-to till we've got aboard andhas set the dogs going. Jest sling that 'ere rifle into the busheshere. Gently with it. Now you ain't bothered with extry weight. Youcomes with me to the place agin and watches while I get in amongst thedogs. Ef there's a noise, and Hurley rouses, bash the lean-to down ontop of his head, jump on it, send the sticks and the snow about him,then leap on the sleigh and look out fer fireworks."
Joe grinned; he couldn't help doing so, in spite of the danger of thesituation. "If there's not a row?" he asked.
"Ef there's not a ruction with them dogs and the other men, and thingsgo nice and smooth and easy, I'll lift my hand when I'm ready. Thenyou get a grip of that thar Hurley, bash him over the head ef you likewith your open hand, and, as he rises, bring the whole shanty down onhim--eh? You're there, ain't you? It aer a clear and straightforwardplan."
"Got it," answered Joe promptly, moistening his lips, and tingling withexcitement and anticipation. "Do we start now?"
"This very instant. But supposin' Hurley suddenly rouses as soon as weget close, and afore you kin bring the shack down on him----"
"Leave that to me," answered Joe tersely. "I've had one innings withthe ruffian already."
There never were two who understood each other so well and so easily asdid Hank and our hero. Their discussion had taken them but a few bareseconds, and now they were creeping back. Joe halted when close besidethe lean-to, while the little hunter sat down on his knees andwhispered to the dog Jimmy. The hound seemed to have gathered hismeaning too as rapidly as had Joe, for he went slinking forward and laydown beside his comrades. As might have been expected, his comingcaused many of the beasts to open their eyes, though they did not offerto move. But Hank was watching eagerly, and a second later a morsel offlesh flew across, landing close to Jimmy. Others followed, and in anincredibly short space of time the dogs were all aroused and standing.
"Jest watch fer the signal," whispered the hunter. "I'm agoin' to put'em into their harness."
It was just at that moment that Joe heard a movement within thelean-to, and promptly applied his eye to the opening he had made.Hurley had turned over, and was now blinking at the spluttering torch,while one arm was spread out over the box. Something seemed to havealarmed him, for he sat up, giving the box a kick, which Hank heard;then he got to his feet swiftly and, bending low, stepped toward theopening, just outside which blazed the fire, and just beyond which Hankwas mustering the team of dogs. Hurley saw him; for the instant hetook him to be one of his own following, then he became suspicious.
"Who's that?" he called. "Hi! Someone is tampering with the dogs."
Joe did not venture to wait longer. He leaped on to the top of thelean-to, the flimsy thing breaking down beneath his weight at once; hetrod upon the wretch beneath, sending him tumbling to the ground; thenhe stood ready for the next movement. It came with startlingsuddenness. Hank had found a whip close to the dogs, and sent itcracking over the team. The brutes sprang forward the next instant,and in spite of the fact that Hurley had tumbled across the sleigh,they brought it out from beneath the smashed lean-to with a jerk whichtossed snow and sticks aside, and sent the rascally leader of this bandof cut-throats rolling backward from the end. Hank seemed to fly tohis position at the fore end. Joe fell across the sleigh as it flashedpast him, scrambled aboard, and found himself gripping the sidesclosely; for a sleigh is no easy thing to ride when a strong team pullsit at fast pace across ground which is broken. It jolts and swaysabominably, while often enough it will glissade, just like a petrol carrounding a sharp and greasy corner.
"Hold tight," shouted Hank, "and get yer shootin' iron ready for 'em!When we comes up to Beaver Jack, I'll hand the reins over to him.You'll take the centre place, while I'll nip in at the back, so as tobe ready to shoot that 'ere Hurley."
Not a word passed between the two from that moment until they reachedthe spot where Beaver Jack was waiting for them. Swinging along at aglorious pace, and swerving and rolling, sometimes dangerously, theyfinally dashed up to the heap of snow behind which the Redskin hadtaken shelter.
"Now, Jack, you take them dogs," said Hank quickly. "Give me a hold ofthe rope tied on to your sleigh. There! It's fast to this; you kinmove off when you're ready."
"But----"
"What?" asked the hunter somewhat curtly, interrupting Joe.
"Why let the dogs haul two sleighs? Cut Beaver Jack's pelts adrift andtie 'em here. We can do it as we go. Our traps can be served in thesame way. It isn't the weight that'll tell so much as the amount ofground our runners cover. A sleigh towing behind will hold the dogsmore than the load on it will do when added to this sleigh."
"Shucks! You aer got the best head of the three of us," cried Hank."You git in at them dogs, Beaver Jack. Me and Joe'll fix the kit whilewe're moving."
Away went the lash of the whip cracking over the leaders. Beaver Jackhandled the team as a man does who has had great practice. Anyonecould have said that from merely observing his manner of wielding thewhip, for the short-handled, long-lashed dog whip employed in the northof Canada is apt to be more dangerous to the amateur wielder than tothe dogs. It requires an amount of practice to control it; and as ittwirled and cracked, and leaped backwards and forwards, now over thedogs, and then above the heads of Hank and Joe, there was proofpositive of Beaver Jack's previous acquaintance with it. Meanwhile,Hank had drawn up the smaller sleigh alongside, and he and Joe rapidlytransferred its load to the large one on which they themselves sat,lashing every article into position.
At the enemy's camp there was now huge commotion. At first theconfusion had been so great that no one could guess what had happened.Even Hurley himself had little more than an inkling, and it took him afew seconds to pick himself up and free himself of the snow and debrisof the lean-to with which he had been covered. Then shouts of rage andfierce orders burst from his lips; in his anger he dashed hither andthither, shouting at his men, and even striking those who seemed to bedawdling.
"Put the other team into the sleigh, quick!" he commanded. "One of youhelp here to find my rifle. Those men have made a sneaking nightattack, and will get clear off if we don't move quick. Here, look formy rifle, I say. How in thunder did it get outside the lean-to?"
There were quite a number of little matters which he was likely to finddifficult of explanation. But the gun was found eventually where Joehad placed it, while the second team of dogs were got into theirharness. Then Hurley pressed two of the boldest of his followers intothis special service, and putting them aboard the remaining sleigh,leaped there himself, and ordered the driver to set off in pursuit ofour hero and his friends.
Beaver Jack never hesitated as to the course he ought to pursue oncehis fingers closed on the reins Hank tossed him.
"Clear back for the settlements," the little hunter had said, and theRedskin obeyed him to the letter. He steered his team over a portionof the lake, set them at the bank where it shelved very gradually tothe ice, and, gaining a hollow
, aimed directly for a huge patch offorest distinguishable with the aid of the moon's rays in the fardistance.
"He war born cute, he war," grunted Hank, some minutes later, when allthe loads were secured, and he and Joe had time and opportunity to lookabout them. "Beaver Jack never stirs a foot, but he watches everythingabout him, and I reckon that he knows nigh every foot of the country;knows it, too, whether it's fine weather or ef there's snow about andlandmarks is wiped out altogether. He aer steering downhill, knowingas the big lake back behind drains along the valley to another, andthat again to a third. It means quick travelling all the way, and efwe're to shake off them critters it'll be before we reaches the thirdlake. Ah! Guess that's Hurley. It's a pity it's stopped snowing."
It was necessary to cling to the sleigh tightly, for the going was fastand furious. There was no time to watch for obstacles ahead, while thesnow covered the land so completely that deep brooks crossing theirline of flight were not seen till they were on to them, and then therewas a mighty shaking. The dogs, spurred on by the cracking whip,leaped across the hollow. The sleigh bumped across with a greatjolting which tossed those aboard it to either side; but still theyclung tight, while the little hunter, seeing that a sleigh wasfollowing, nimbly turned about, spread himself face downward on the topof the sleigh, and placed his rifle before him.
"You jest take and sit on my legs, Joe," he called; "then ef there's abad jolt I'll still be here. It won't make no difference to myshootin', and it's likely to save delay. Ef I was to roll over you'dhave to stop, and that'd be serious."
Joe promptly did as he was asked, tucking the legs of the little hunterbeneath him, and placing a blanket across them before he sat down. Hecould then afford to turn his own head and watch the enemy. Awaybehind them, tearing along at reckless speed, and at such a rate that acloud of white was thrown up in front of each runner for all the worldas if the sleigh were a ship at sea, Hurley and his comrades camechasing after the trio they had fondly hoped to kill. A figurecrouched just behind the dogs, and the frosty air brought the sound ofhis shouts and the crack of the dog whip he wielded. A second figurewas bundled up behind him, the face of the man on the shoulder of thedriver, while a pair of staring eyes peered at the sleigh ahead.Hurley sat right aft, his bulky form overlapping the sides of thesleigh, his head and shoulders well above his comrades. The moon,playing upon the scene, showed a rod projecting upward from a pointjust in front of the murderer, and at once Joe knew it was a rifle. Hesaw the ruffian lean forward and shout at his men, and then watched ashe rose still higher--evidently he was half-kneeling andhalf-sitting--his weapon was lifted into a horizontal position and wentto his shoulder. It was clear, in fact, that Hurley was about to fire.
"Best get down flat, every one of us," cried Hank, in warning tones."Beaver Jack, you lie flat same as me, facing forward. You'll still beable to steer, and kin use the whip ef it's wanted. Then Joe kinstretch hisself out on top of the two of us. It'll be a crampingbusiness, but it aer better'n bein' shot."
Such gymnastic efforts upon a sleigh rocking from side to side was noeasy matter. But when there is a man within reasonable distance whoserifle is presented, and any moment may bring a bullet, the mostdifficult of evolutions are carried out with wonderful rapidity. Inthis case, Beaver Jack swivelled himself round with a dexterity therewas no denying. Then Joe turned entirely, for he wished to have hiseyes behind him all the while and watch Hurley. A second or so laterhe was also lying flat, his weight helping to hold the Redskin to thesleigh, while he gripped Hank now by the ankles. But he was hardly inposition when a puff of smoke burst from the rifle held by the burlyfigure at the back of the pursuing sleigh, there was a dull flash, thena bullet screamed past the heads of Hank and his friends. The reply tothis was sent without delay by the little hunter.
"Missed!" he grunted. "Shootin' at a moving object ain't never tooeasy with a rifle, but when the consarn you're fixed on is movin'itself as well, why, a hit aer often a chance. Guess Hurley ha' gothis eye in."
It was a cold-blooded observation, hardly likely to encourage either.But the grin on Hank's face showed that he himself was not greatlyconcerned by the close approach of a second bullet which Hurley hadfired. For Joe, one can only say that he watched the duel fascinated,fear for his own person lost in his interest. Once again he sawHurley's rifle lifted, saw the smoke belch from the muzzle, and thenheard--almost felt, one might say, without exaggeration--the passage ofthe bullet.
Hank chuckled. "This here lyin'-down position bothers him fine," hecried. "He aer got to drop his muzzle a whole heap before he hits us.But I'm not the one to give chances; I'm going to pick off that Hurley."
Up went his own rifle, for Hank leaned on one elbow. He took a longand careful aim and then pulled his trigger; but the result was notwhat he had anticipated. As he himself had said, shooting wasextremely difficult under such circumstances, for the sleigh swayed andjolted horribly. But the bullet missed the ruffian at whom it wasaimed only because there was another man in front of him. Of a suddenthe driver of the pursuing sleigh dropped his whip and doubled up, hischin on his chest. Then he swayed a little, and, as if with a mightyeffort, gathered all his strength and threw himself backward, pullingon the reins and bringing his team to a standstill. But it was hislast action. He toppled over to the left and fell into the snow.
"Wrong man; sorry," Hank jerked out grimly. "Hurley'll have it nexttime. I'll wait a bit to get him closer."
The chase after that settled down a little, Hank holding his fire,while Hurley himself copied the example of the little hunter and spreadhimself out flat on his sleigh, his new driver also. But this wasapparent, with a lighter load the enemy were getting nearer.
"Ef that's the case, we'll make a stop precious soon," said Hank."What say, Joe?"
"I'm with you. We're three now to their two, and if we could faceeight of them some little while ago, surely we could----"
His argument came to an abrupt ending at that moment, for a wide ditchwith vertical banks carved out by nature crossed their path, and thesnow hid it from view. It was more than likely that the snow hadformed a species of bridge over this deep hollow; but, in any case, itbroke down as the last of the team of dogs crossed, causing the frontend of the sleigh to dip suddenly. The runners cannoned against theiron-hard banks, and in a twinkling sleigh and men went flying.
"Surely we could face those two," gasped Joe, as if continuing thesentence where circumstances had caused it to be so abruptly broken,and at the same time picking himself up from the bank of snow intowhich he had been thrown. "Here's fine cover. This ditch will hide uscompletely."
He threw himself down into the deep hollow at once, and found that hehad quite a high bank before him, over which he had to lift his head tosee the enemy. Hurley marked the occasion by firing at him, and hisbullet swished past within an inch, causing Joe to duck suddenly. Asfor Hank, the sudden upset seemed to have caused him vast amusement,and certainly he wasn't in the smallest degree hurt, though, being atthe rear of the sleigh, he had been thrown over the heads of hiscomrades and had come down sprawling amongst the dogs. He picked uphimself and his weapon instantly and crept to Joe's side, stillgrinning widely, while Beaver Jack, undisturbed by the upset, hisgravity of demeanour and his native dignity not in the least degreeruffled, coolly turned the sleigh the right way up, dragged itbackward, and called hoarsely to the dogs to lie down.
"We war jest meant to stop and have it out with them critters," saidHank, when he had shaken the snow out of his eyes and mouth. "Gee!that war a tumble. Lucky fer us there's soft snow. Ef it had been onbare ice, there's some of us would have had cracked heads. Ha! Hurleyha' thought better of coming along towards us. Guess this business isgettin' a little more serious than he wanted. Yer see, he had jestthree at fust, three as didn't know he was following. Now he's got thesame three, and only one to help him agin them. You sit low, lad;bullets has a way of striking jest when they ain't expected."
Hi
s own head went down of a sudden, while a bullet buzzed above them.Evidently it must have gone extremely near to the Redskin, who was thencrawling towards them, for Beaver Jack's impassive face broke into asmile. His sensitive lips actually curled, those deep-set, penetratingeyes twinkled, while his curious chin went up and seemed almost toembrace the tip of the hooked nose.
"None the wuss if you ain't hit, mate," laughed Hank. "Joe, how do yerlike bullets flyin' close beside you?"
To look at our hero it was an experience which he enjoyed, for he wassmiling. But it was not because of the bullets. He was smiling at thesudden change in their fortunes, at the complete success of the specialefforts which he and Hank had made, and at the thought that, instead ofbeing chased by Hurley now, they might well turn the tables on him.
"We've a duty to do," he said so sharply, that the little hunter swunground upon him.
"Eh? Duty?" he asked.
"Yes; there's a murderer, a criminal wanted by the law. Our duty is totake him, so that he can do no more mischief."
"In course," came the ready answer, "that's what we're going to do.See here, Joe, I don't return to the settlements till we've got our manor rubbed him out entirely. It's the same thing to me whicheverhappens; only stop his game we will."
"Right! I'm with you," cried Joe.
"Then jest look spry and don't get standin' in the way of his rifle,"grunted Hank, as he peered cautiously at the enemy.
CHAPTER XX
Back to the Farm
The minutes which passed as Joe and his friends lay in the hollow intowhich the upset of their sleigh had thrown them proved, as they rapidlyincreased in number, that plans, however carefully made, do not alwaysbecome accomplished. It had been agreed between the little hunter andour hero that it was their plain duty to capture Hurley; for was he notan escaped criminal, a murderer, a brute who sought to slay them? Buttry as they might to circumvent the rascal, he outwitted them.
"It aer one of them tarnation difficulties that one don't realize tillone comes up agin them," said Hank after a while, for immediately ontheir upset Hurley had caused his own team of dogs to be pulled upshort, and had himself taken advantage of a hollow. Hidden in it, hebobbed up every now and again and sent a shot swishing over the littleparty, while apparently the bullets fired by Joe and his friend had nobetter effect. They were, in fact, merely wasting time.
"Doing no harm, and just keeping us here till his men come up to joinhim," ventured Joe.
"Huh!" grunted the trapper. "But we'll see as they don't get quite upto him, unless, of course, there's a hollow which will give them coverall the way. Lad, this aer likely to get serious."
"Then why not make a bolt for it?" asked Joe. "I don't mean run awayaltogether," he added, as Hank flashed round upon him, "but make a rushand draw him after us. If Beaver Jack steers so as to take us intobroken country, where there are patches of trees and undergrowth, wecould select a suitable place, stop suddenly, and then shoot as Hurleycame after us."
Hank struck the butt of his rifle violently. "Ef that ain't a wheeze!"he cried exultantly. "Ef he follows us--and it ain't dead sartin--butef he does, Beaver Jack'll manage the move for us easy. Let's see;yes, there's trees 'way ahead--only to reach 'em we've got to run thegauntlet."
"Well? What matters?" asked Joe. "Better that than have all thoserascals close up to us and shooting."
"We'll do it," exclaimed Hank. "Beaver Jack, you aer heard thisproposition?"
The Redskin hardly deigned to answer; instead, he swung his dogs round,pulling them by means of the reins, till he had them lying in thehollow itself.
"Not do mount here," he said. "P'raps bullet hit us. But creep awaydown there till we reach trees. Leave one here to fire now and again;then, when all ready, jump on the sleigh and get away behind cover."
He held out an attenuated hand, the fingers of which were as fine asany lady's, and pointed to a patch of trees springing from the side ofthe hollow a hundred or more yards away. The gesture and his wordswere sufficient explanation of his meaning. If the sleigh were takenthere without its human load, and the feat could be accomplishedwithout Hurley seeing, then all could mount and start away before themurderer had become aware of their intentions.
"It aer a cute move, and we'll work it," said Hank instantly. "Now,Joe, which of us'll stay; you or me?"
"My place," came the ready answer. "I suggested going, therefore I dothe work which will help us to fool Hurley. I'll give him a shot nowand again."
Hank at once slid down into the hollow and joined Beaver Jack. Joewatched them as they sprawled on their faces, first placing theirweapons on the sleigh; then he saw them slowly move away, the Redskinbeside his team, crawling on all-fours, talking to the dogs and keepingthem well under cover.
Crack! crack! Zip! zip! Two bullets swished overhead, the crispsounds they made proving that they had been aimed at Joe and not at hiscomrades. At once he bobbed up, aimed for the place where he knewHurley was in hiding, and fired; but he saw nothing of the enemy. Thiswas a duel waged between contestants who kept beneath cover, and hopedonly for a lucky chance to hit an enemy. Joe waited again, and oncemore the exchange of shots was repeated. Then he turned his head, tofind that Hank and Beaver Jack had reached the trees and were waitingfor him.
"I'll give 'em one more," he told himself, raising his rifle, "and thenjoin the others. Hallo! What's this? One of Beaver Jack's pelts.Suit my purpose admirably."
Two shots rang out again in the distance, and Joe's followed swiftly.Then he placed the dark-coloured skin on the top of the bank, andwithin sight of the enemy, and at once sprawled on hands and knees andcrawled along the hollow. He accomplished the distance to therat-a-tat-tat of rifle shots, for Hurley and his comrade had found amark to aim at. Then he took his place on the sleigh, on which Hankand Beaver Jack were already seated, and which they had hauled inbehind the cover of the trees.
"Best get into position and comfortably settled afore we set out," saidthe little hunter. "Gee! What a racket they're making! They ain'tspotted this business, I hope?"
"Shooting at one of Beaver Jack's pelts," said Joe dryly. "He left itbehind. I thought he'd be able to spare it."
"My, you'll do!" exclaimed Hank, laughing outright. "I've known youngchaps as could fight all right, but who were always mighty serious whenbullets war flying, and couldn't think of things like that. You'll do,Joe. You aer got a sense of humour. Now, Beaver Jack, you get in atit, and don't drive 'em too fast after the fust bust of speed. We aergot to draw that Hurley cuss close up to us."
Shouts of anger and disappointment greeted the party as they swung outfrom behind the cover and into the open. Shots were fired in theirdirection also. But Beaver Jack was a master of stratagem; he kept thepatch of cover that had already helped them so much between the sleighand the enemy, and Hurley, seeing that the men he desired to kill wererapidly increasing their distance, rushed for his own sleigh, leapedaboard, and bellowed to his driver to set the team in motion; and,thanks to the lighter weight the pursuing sleigh bore, and in no smalldegree to Beaver Jack's skill and cunning, Hurley slowly gained uponthe three men flying before him. He leaned upon his elbow, for he hadagain adopted the position which Hank had first shown him, and, takinga long and careful aim, sent a bullet flying after them.
"Time we stopped!" cried Joe abruptly, gripping his elbow, for themissile had struck him. Not that it was a severe wound--on thecontrary, it was little more than a graze--but even that causes painand rouses a man to exertion. Joe was determined to put up no longerwith Hurley's attempts upon his life and upon those of his comrades.
"Let's stop this business right here and now," he cried hotly."There's a long patch of wood ahead; let's fix to pull in the teamthere."
"Good fer you, lad!" answered Hank. "Beaver Jack, you aer heard theorder? Now, Joe lad, listen to this. I has fust shot; ef I miss,you're welcome to try; only I somehow feel as ef this war my specialbusiness. Here we are; now fer it.
"
Beaver Jack brought the team to a halt in masterly manner, while Joeand the hunter rolled off the sleigh. Then Hank took post close to theedge of the wood and just in the open.
"I ain't the one to fire at a man without giving him a chance," hesaid. "Ah! he's seen us; he's stopped. That was a near 'un!"
There was a heavy thud as Hurley's bullet struck the tree beside thehunter. Then up went Hank's weapon. He took a rapid sight, and thenflung down his rifle almost before the report had come to Joe's ears,while the latter watched for the result of the shot with more than alittle anxiety. A little time before he would perhaps have wishedHurley to escape injury, for Joe possessed a soft and forgiving heart.Now, however, he had a different opinion as to his merits. It was,therefore, with no great amount of sorrow that he saw the ruffiansuddenly throw up his arms and tumble over.
"Wiped out clean," growled Hank. "Dead as a trapped beaver."
There could be no doubt that that was the end of the murderer. Hank'sbullet had, in fact, killed Hurley instantaneously, and had therebyprovided a fitting punishment for the detestable crime he hadcommitted. As for Hurley's companion, the half-breed leaped on to thesleigh which, like his master, he had abandoned for the moment, andsending his whip cracking over the dogs, turned them in the oppositedirection and raced away for safety.
"Not as he's got anything to fear from me," said Hank; "I aer done whatI promised. And now, young chap, guess there are something more for usto look into--there aer that letter."
It was uppermost in his mind as in our hero's, and it is not to bewondered at that they boarded their sleigh and swung their team backtowards the dark figure lying prone in the snow behind them. But wouldHurley have the document still? Had he destroyed it? In fact, had heever had it, or was it possible that both Hank and Joe had conjured upa conspiracy which had never existed? Supposing Hurley had merelyfallen upon their trace by accident, and then, learning that two of themen who had previously helped to hound him down were of the party, hadendeavoured to slay them?
Those were the fears and the questions which raced through their mindsas Beaver Jack sent the dogs straining across the snow towards the bodyof their enemy. They found him lying face downwards, a crimson stainspoiling the beautiful white of Nature's own making.
"Search him," said Joe, turning his head away from such a gruesomesight. "Search him, then let us go."
"Got it! Huh! I said so, didn't I?"
Hank's face was radiant. He held aloft a long envelope, stained withmuch handling, and then, having run through all of Hurley's pockets, hedragged the document from the envelope and coolly perused it. Joehimself had now no qualms as to reading it also.
"You are on the high road to 'making good'," said Hank. "There ain'tno reason now in waiting longer. Read! It aer as clear as daylightthat Hurley had made up his mind to wipe you out and then to make forEngland with the idea of passing himself off as your father."
When they were able to gather all the details, this, indeed, proved tobe the crux of the whole conspiracy, and the death of Hurley had aloneput an end to it. It is not for us to raise doubts here as to hisprospects. Doubtless there was many a slip which he might have made,for criminals are ever careless; but matters were decidedly in hisfavour. That receipt, still within the envelope, would obtain for himall the proofs of Mr. Bradley's birth and life and parentage. Thesignature, doubtless, he would learn to copy, while the very fact ofJoe's father having kept so much to himself would have made Hurley'snon-recognition at the Bradleys' old home of no moment. The weakpoint, however, arrived when he expected residents in the littleprovincial town where Joe had spent his early existence to recognize inHurley the cycle maker who they knew had died quite lately.
"He'd have been had there," said Joe thoughtfully, "unless, of course,he had declared that he never lived in England after he was twentyyears of age. Ah! that was his game; he had become a colonist. Nodoubt he could have imported some scoundrel to swear to the fact thatHurley was not known as Hurley at all, but as Bradley. However,there's an end to the matter. Wonder what this uncle of mine's like?Don't feel over-keen on writing to him."
Circumstances saved Joe that necessity, for no sooner had he sentinformation to the London solicitors who held the proofs which hisfather had deposited, than he learned that his uncle was dead. He had,in fact, survived Mr. Bradley but a few months. Thus Joe was the heirto the property.
"Let it go hang for the time being," he said, when he and Hank and theFennicks were discussing the matter together; for the trio had safelyreturned to the settlement at the head of the valley in New Ontario."I've something far more interesting here, I can assure you."
He said that with truth, too, for never was there a more fascinatingbusiness than Sam Fennick had created. That spring, in fact, more thantwenty families joined him, shacks were run up rapidly by thecorporation into which they formed themselves, while machinery wasalready arriving. Soon the workers were divided into parties, eachwith their tasks assigned, and by seeding time not only had everyfamily a good roof over its head, but an extraordinary amount of groundhad been broken.
There is little to add with regard to our hero. That winter whichfollowed he ran over to England, and then, having placed his affairs inthe hands of lawyers, and having let the property to which he hadproved his title, he returned to join his comrades. Up at the end ofthat valley Peter Strike, and Hank, and many another are now located.A railway draws its steel lines through the heart of the settlement,while a school is already building. That is the way with Canada, redtape has scarcely an existence; it is merely a bad memory imported fromthe old country. Yes, there is a school building, while the telephoneis fitted to houses rapidly replacing the rough shacks. But that isnot all. Electric light is generated by water power at the foot of thelake, while there is a lumber mill down south, and logs pay handsomely.Motors buzz, too, out on the fields, and acres of soil are ripped openand ploughed in as many hours as days were taken formerly with horsetackle. Joe himself is rather proud of the potatoes he grows on hisholding, while he has hopes some day of beating all at the annual fruitshow in Toronto. You may ask with reason, perhaps, whether he everpines for London or a city. No, emphatically no! Joe is an open-airman, a jovial, hard-working, contented fellow, who loves the wilds ofthe Dominion, and who now and again sneaks off into the backwoods withhis old chum Hank. But business is his main consideration. Hispurchases close to Peter Strike's old settlement have increasedenormously in value, while elsewhere he is making money.
"Not as it matters much to a chap same as you," said Hank one night,for he and Joe lived together; "you're rich without these here acres.But guess it's not the dollars you're after; it's makin' good, eh, Joe?Making good 'lows a man to be proud of hisself, and, jingo, it aerworth doing!"
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