Part 22 (1/2)

With that the mountaineer took Tom's bag and disappeared over a sort of cliff. Ten minutes later he returned with the bag full of a rude meal, made by grinding corn in a big coffee mill of the kind that grocers use.

”Now you jest stay here fer ten minutes or so an' I'll be back with the other sack. It's a good deal bigger'n this 'un, but I kin tote a good deal more'n you kin, an' you'll need all the meal you kin git.”

”Wait a minute,” said Tom. ”How much am I to pay for this meal? I have only two dollars with me and perhaps it will not be enough.”

”Well, you see, Tom, I done tole you you needn't pay nothin' fer it, but you wouldn't have it that way on no account. So I reckon I'll charge you the same price I pay when I buy that sort o' meal from the still. That's a dollar fer them two bags.”

”That's very cheap,” said Tom. ”Are you sure it's a proper price?”

”Sartin' sure,” answered the man. ”You see it's a mighty poor sort o'

meal--jest soft mounting corn ground up like in a coffee mill to make whiskey out'n. You'll have to wet it up mouty soft like to make it stick together fer bread, an' I'll tell you a trick about that. You jest wet it up with boilin' hot water. That sort o' cooks it like. Make it very wet an' don't mind even ef a little o' the water stan's on top o' the dough in the pan. That'll cook away an' your bread'll be all the better fer it. But a dollar is a high price fer it.”

By the time the second bag of meal came it was high time for the pair to start if they were to reach Camp Venture before daylight. But the mountaineer knew all the short cuts, and better still, all the easy cuts--paths that gave a minimum of up-hill work while presenting other advantages of importance. At one point, for example, he led Tom to a spot where there was a steep shelving rock, completely coated with hard ice.

”Now,” he said, ”You an' me couldn't go down that slide without breakin'

every bone we've got. But we kin slip our meal bags down it 'thout no hurt to n.o.body. Then I'll show you a way round it, so's we kin git the meal agin.”

With that he placed his meal bag in position, gave it a little push, and instantly it disappeared down the hill in the darkness. Tom did the same with his bag, and then, striding off to the right, the mountaineer led the way by a difficult but practicable path around the rock to a point quite a quarter of a mile below, where the two found their bags of meal safely reposing in a snow bank.

This was repeated at several points on the journey, while at other points where the bags could not be thus slidden down, because of an insufficient incline, it was easy for the two to drag them as they walked and this they did. As the way was almost entirely down hill, there was very little of what the mountaineer called ”toting” to be done.

About three o'clock in the morning the two reached the brow of that cliff under which the boys had made their first temporary encampment, and which const.i.tuted the mountainside limit of Camp Venture. There they parted, the mountaineer protesting his eager desire to hurry back and ”look arter the little gal.”

”Wait a minute,” said Tom. ”I've paid you for this meal, but I haven't paid you for carrying it down the mountain or for the risk you've taken in doing that.”

”I don't want no pay, Tom,” protested the man with eagerness. ”I hain't fergot that you put me on pay-roll jest in the nick o' time.”

”That's all right,” said Tom. ”But I took two dollars with me and I expected to pay all of it for the meal. Now I want you to take the remaining dollar to the 'little gal' as a present from Tom. There, don't stop to say anything or you'll be late in getting back,” added Tom, as he pressed the dollar bill into the man's hands.

”Well, all I'll stop to say, Little Tom,” said the mountaineer, ”is this: Ef you git out'n meal agin, you come to the same place I found you in. I'll keep a look out fer you there every day. An' ef they's war made on you it won't be long before I'm takin' a hand on your side with my rifle, an' it don't make no difference whatsomever who it is that's a fightin' of you.”

CHAPTER XXV

_A Difficulty_

Little Tom was now in a quandary. He was on the bluff overlooking and south of the camp, but he did not know how to get into the camp. To walk in would be dangerous, of course. The sentinel might mistake him for an enemy and shoot at him. A high wind was blowing from the direction of Camp Venture, so that no call of Tom's could be heard there. It was a little after three o'clock in the morning, very dark, very cold, and Tom was very tired with his labor in bringing the meal down the mountain.

Finally an idea dawned in his mind.

”If I can't go to Camp Venture I can at any rate bring Camp Venture to me,” he said to himself. With that he collected some of the dry broom straw that protruded above the snow and such sticks and other combustibles as he could find, and set to work to build a fire.

”When the sentinel sees a fire here,” he said to himself, ”he'll call the other boys, and they'll all get their guns and come out here to see what's the matter. I'll stand up in the full glare of the light and on the camp side of the fire, so that they can recognize me.”

His plan worked to perfection. It was not five minutes after he got a good blaze going before the whole company surrounded him.

”What is it, Tom?” they cried. ”Why did you build a fire here?”

”Wait!” said Tom. ”There are two bags of corn meal down there just under the bluff. Some of you go and carry them to the house. I'm fearfully tired and cold.”