Part 35 (1/2)
”I don't know.”
”Where did he go?”
”Ran for that woods like a frightened deer. I would have fired, only I was afraid of killing him.”
”Do you think we ought to go after him? We might be able to trail him in the snow.”
”We might try it. He was pretty well scared when he saw me with my shotgun.”
Leaving the sled by the river side, both young hunters made their way through the bushes and into the forest. For a short distance they followed the trail with ease. But then they reached a pond containing some clear ice and here the footprints were lost.
”Might as well give it up,” said Shep, looking around. ”It is growing dark and he will know enough to keep hidden. Besides, if we corner him he may play some trick--tumble a rock on us, or something like that.”
Slowly the two young hunters retraced their way to the river. They were now so tired they could scarcely drag one foot after the other.
The excitement over, reaction set in.
”I don't think I want to walk all the way to camp to-night,” remarked Shep. ”It's too far.”
”We'll put up somewhere over night,” answered Snap.
They examined the things on the sled with interest and were glad to ascertain that nearly every article stolen was there. The few things missing were of scant importance.
”I'll wager that scamp intended to take the things somewhere and sell them,” said Snap. ”We were lucky to catch him as we did.”
Having looked the load over, they repacked it with care and then looked around them, to find out their exact location.
”There is a farmer named Masterson, who lives just beyond this woods,”
said Snap. ”My father sold him the lumber for his new barn. Perhaps he'll take us in for the night, if we offer to pay him.”
”Well, we can try him anyway,” answered the doctor's son.
They skated along the river until the field leading up to the farmhouse was reached. It was now quite dark. A dog came out to greet them, barking furiously.
”Hope he isn't of the biting kind,” said Shep, drawing back.
”Down, Rover, down!” came in a man's voice, and a moment later Aaron Masterson appeared. He was a man of sixty, bent from age and hard work.
”Good evening, Mr. Masterson,” said Snap. ”I don't know if you remember me or not. I am Charley Dodge. My father sold you the lumber for your new barn.”
”Oh, yes, I remember you,” said the old farmer, with a smile. ”You came to the raising, didn't you? Who is this with you?”
”My friend, Shep Reed. He is Dr. Reed's son.”
”Oh, yes, I know the doctor, too. He attended my wife when she had pneumonia--brought her around, too. Well, lads, what brings you in such a snow?”
In a few words Snap and Shep explained the situation. When they mentioned the tramp Aaron Masterson shook his grizzled head and his fist vigorously.
”The pesky critters! I wish you had shot him! They're a terribul nuisance, tramps is. One day my wife give two on 'em a dinner an' they up afterwards an' stole my new sickle an' whetstone. Tramps ought all to be hung. Come in the house.”