CHAPTER IX
THE MAN OUTSIDE
“Sure you weren’t dreaming, Andy?” whispered Rob, in turn, as, having listened for a brief time, he failed to catch any unusual sound.
“Not a bit of it,” the other assured him. “I sat up and made certain of it before crawling out of my bunk. I tell you there is somebody outside there, and he’s doing his best to get in, too.”
The night wind was sighing through the pinetops, Rob noticed. Could Andy’s imagination, excited by some dream, have conceived the idea that a would-be intruder was “fiddling” at the door, and endeavoring to find ingress? Rob was still undecided, but at the same time he considered it the part of wisdom to get out of his bunk and slip his feet into a pair of warm moccasins he always carried with him.
It was almost dark inside the long bunk cabin. The fire had died down, and even if there were still smouldering embers present the wooden screen hid them from sight.
Rob now became aware of the fact that Andy clutched something in his hands. The touch of cold metal told him it was a gun. This would indicate that the other fully believed what he asserted, and that some strange man was even then about to force an entrance into the cabin, possibly under the belief that no one was occupying the building at the time.
“There, did you hear that?” came again from the aroused Andy. “He’s trying one of the window shutters. Rob, I remember that several of them are kind of loose. When he strikes one of those he can get it open easily enough, and then what’s to hinder him pushing in the sash?”
“Well, there is something moving around out there, I do believe,” muttered Rob.
“Oh, I wonder if it could be Wolf come back!” said an awed voice close to them.
“Hello! Are you there, Tubby?” questioned Rob cautiously, for neither of them had noticed that they were crouching close to the bunk selected by the third member of the party. Tubby, chancing to awaken, must have heard them whispering.
“Yes, but could it be the dog, do you think, Rob?” asked the fat scout eagerly.
“That’s silly talk, Tubby,” Andy told him, so softly that his voice would not have carried any distance, and might never have been distinguished from that crooning night breeze that rustled the hemlocks and passed gently through the pinetops.
“Dogs couldn’t reach up and shake a shutter that stood five feet from the ground. It’s a man, that’s what; and we’d better figure on how we’re going to give him the surprise of his life, if he gets inside here.”
“Wait till I get my little hand electric torch,” said Rob, who often carried one of these useful articles about with him; indeed, any fellow who has handled such a neat little contraption in an emergency knows that they are worth their weight in silver every time.
The one Rob had was very diminutive; in fact, a “vest-pocket edition,” it was called; but upon pressing the button quite a strong ray would be thrown forward. He kept it handy when sleeping in the open.
“Tubby, get out of your bunk, and be ready to lend a hand,” ordered Rob. The one addressed hastened to do as he was told.
“Tell me what I’m to do, Rob,” he pleaded.
“Bring both your heads closer this way,” continued the leader. “Now, this is the scheme: Tubby, you creep over to the fire, and when you hear me call out throw that wooden screen down, and then as quick as you can get a handful of the fine tinder on the fire, so as to set up a blaze. Understand?”
Tubby said he did, and accordingly Rob went on further:
“Andy and myself will try to find out which window the man is going to creep through, and we’ll form a reception committee. When I turn on the light, you, Andy, be sure to cover him with your gun, ready to shoot if he attacks us. Get that, do you?”
On his part Andy assured the chief that he understood perfectly.
“Well, then,” concluded Rob, “all I want to say is that after Tubby sees the fire begin to pick up he is to dart over and get my gun here, with which he, too, will proceed to cover the intruder. That’s all. Now get busy, boys. Andy, come with me, and be careful not to strike your gun against anything so as to alarm him. Tubby, head over to the fireplace, and be ready to act!”
It was intensely exciting, Tubby thought, as he managed to cross to the end of the long bunk-house, where the yawning fireplace stood – the same gaping aperture down which that bobcat had dropped, and up which he had also climbed with such fatal alacrity later on, when dispossessed by reason of the acrid smoke fumigation.
Reaching the place assigned to him, Tubby felt of the wooden screen. He found that it would only require a smart push to send it flat, after which he could turn his attention to snatching up some of the fine dry tinder which had been arranged in a little pile close by; and as Tubby had paid more attention to the cooking than any one else, he ought to know to a dot where to find this “fire-starter.”
Meanwhile, Rob and Andy had started to creep along close to the side of the log cabin wall. Rob was heading directly toward the spot where he had distinctly heard the last suspicious sound. If the prowler without had found that shutter fast he would just as likely as not examine the next one, and keep trying until he ran upon a damaged wooden cover which the winds had banged back and forth until it could no longer do full duty.
Yes, there was some one shaking the next shutter which had been used to keep the drifting snow out when the loggers were in camp during the long winter months. As the two boys crept closer they could hear a grumbling sound, just such as might proceed from a disappointed man who was being continually baffled in his efforts to force an entrance.
Rob had been thinking as he moved, and several possibilities had in turn taken possession of his active mind. Could this be Uncle George himself, come back to the abandoned logging camp, and who upon finding the door barred from within, was now trying to gain an entrance? At first Rob rather favored this idea, but he quickly realized how slender a hold it had in the way of plausible facts.
In the first place the sportsman would hardly come back minus his Indian guide, unless Sebattis, too, had proven false, and had to be sent flying like Zeb Crooks. Then, again, if he suspected that some passing hunters were occupying the bunk-house, having accepted the invitation to enter and make themselves at home, why should not Uncle George call out and ask them to open the door to him? No, there was something much more suggestive and suspicious about this event than the return of the mighty Nimrod. This unknown party did not suspect that the cabin was occupied; he meant to get in, perhaps to make free with the property left there by Uncle George.
In a word, Rob was more than half convinced already that he knew who the man outside, fumbling with the various wooden shutters, must be – no other than that same Zeb Crooks, who possibly had come sneaking back, knowing the intention of his former employer to leave the camp unprotected for a few days – come back to rob the place of anything valuable that he could find and sequester.
Rob did not bother trying to communicate this to Andy, for there was no need, and it would hardly have been politic, with the man outside so close to them. He was now at the next window, and Rob believed that the crisis was at hand, for the man gave a satisfied grunt as though things were finally working to suit his purposes.
So he nudged Andy, as if to warn him to be on the alert, though truth to tell there was little need of this, for the other scout was fully aroused every second of the time, with his gun clutched in nervous hands ready to do his duty when the call came.
Yes, the window was being shoved back now, and the man still muttered to himself. One thing sure, he never dreamed that the cabin had occupants, though how the door came to be fastened on the inside must have puzzled him somewhat.
The eyes of the boys had become so used to the semi-darkness that they were able to fairly make out the window, once the shutter had been drawn back. They could also see some sort of movement there. Having given the swinging sash a push that sent it inward, the man was now thrusting his head and shoulders through the small opening.
Rob knew the difficulties attending such an awkward entrance. He felt almost certain that the party, even if not clumsy in his movements, would likely tumble to the puncheon floor when he finally gave the last push. That was the very moment Rob figured on springing his surprise. The man would be caught unawares, and least able to defend himself or spring at them.
When he heard a scuffling sound, and saw the window no longer obstructed by a dark form, Rob knew the crisis was upon them.
CHAPTER X
NEATLY DONE
As the scout master suddenly pressed the button of his little hand torch and threw the expanding ray of light straight ahead, he called out in a loud voice:
“Go to it, Tubby, Andy!”
There was a loud crash. Tubby had obediently thrown the wooden fire screen over to the floor, and was trying to snatch up some of the fine tinder that would burst into a brilliant flame almost as soon as it reached the still hot embers on the hearth.
Andy, too, was equal to the emergency, and had his gun leveled directly at the figure of the sprawling man. There was a grim suggestiveness about the way in which all these things worked that must have staggered any one thus taken completely by surprise.
“Lie just where you are, unless you want to get hurt!” cried Rob, in an authoritative voice. “If you make any attempt to get up, or show fight, you’ll have to take the consequences, and they’ll not be pleasant, either. Understand that, Zeb Crooks?”
“Oh, that’s who it is, eh?” burst from Andy. Tubby too must have seen a sudden light, though he was really a busy boy and did not bother to express his astonishment; for no sooner had he seen those fine bits of dry resinous wood begin to flash up than, remembering his instructions, he waddled across the floor, much after the fashion of a fat duck, and, securing Rob’s gun, hastened to join the group near by.
Already the resuscitated fire had begun to illuminate the interior of the bunk-house. The glow disclosed a most singular scene, and one the boys would often remember with a smile.
The big man on the floor was staring at the trio of lads with a strange mixture of emotions depicted on his swarthy and bearded face. Evidently he was sorely puzzled to account for their presence there, when he had firmly believed the building to be wholly without occupants. He may have struck a match and read the “Notice” which the boys had not removed from the outside of the door.
“Who might the lot of you be?” he asked, still squatted there as he had fallen after forcing his entrance, with his rifle alongside, though he dared make no move toward regaining possession of the weapon with those two guns wavering back and forth so close to his face.
Rob bent over and quietly secured possession of the repeating rifle. The action showed him to be a diplomat of the first water, for in so doing he cut the claws of the wild beast they had trapped.
“We’ll talk with you after we’ve made sure you’re not going to give us any trouble, Zeb. Tubby, step over and fetch the piece of rope that’s hanging from the peg yonder.”
Tubby obeyed with alacrity – for him. Rob, taking the gun from his hands, gave another order.
“My friend, please accommodate us by rolling over on your face, and holding both your hands behind you. We mean to tie them there, wrist to wrist. It’ll do no good for you to grumble, because it’s just got to be done.”
The intruder was a strong and bronzed fellow, who might easily have held two of the scouts out from him could he have gotten his hands on them; but then a boy in possession of a gun is as much to be respected as though he measured up to the full stature of manhood, and evidently the fellow appreciated this fact.
Still he did look disgusted as he proceeded with rather ill grace to do as Rob had ordered. It was almost comical to see his huge figure sprawled out there on the floor, with fat Tubby seated on his legs, and endeavoring to do a neat job with the rope-end. Rob was watching to make sure that there was no bungling; he did not believe in poor workmanship.
“Cross his hands so, Tubby, with the wrists together,” he directed. “Now begin to wrap the rope around – draw it fairly tight. We don’t want him getting loose on us, you understand. When Uncle George comes back from the Tucker Pond he’ll know what he wants to do with a thief!”
There was a loud growl from the man whose face rested sideways against the floor.
“Hold on, thar, kid,” he said savagely, “you don’t want to be so free applying such langwidge as that, ’ca’se it cuts to the bone. I may have been a fool to turn on Mr. Hopkins, and act stubborn-like, but I’m no thief! Mebbe onct in a while in times gone by I’ve shot deer out o’ season, and busted the game laws, but I never in my life did take anything as belonged to anybody else, never, so help me.”
Rob did not say anything until Tubby had finally completed his job, puffing over it as though the effort required every atom of breath he could command.
“Now, Tubby, help me get him over here, where he can rest against the wall,” Rob said. “I know it’s going to be mighty uncomfortable for him, fastened up this way, but nobody’s to blame but himself.”
“Huh, guess that’s correct, younker!” grunted the man. “I sartin sure did make a fool o’ myself, and I oughtn’t to grumble if I have to pay up for it. But I’m plumb up against it now, seems like.”
“Then you are Zeb Crooks?” asked Rob.
“Yep, that’s who I am,” came the unhesitating reply.
“Mr. Hopkins, who is the uncle of this boy here, discharged you only a day or two ago, didn’t he?” continued the scout master, watching the play of emotions on the swarthy face of the Maine guide and trying to read what lay back of them.
“Waal, we had a little misunderstanding, you might say, and I was sorter set in my way. Mr. Hopkins, he seen there wouldn’t be no sense o’ us tryin’ to pull together, so he up and paid me a hull month’s wages and told me my room was a heap sight more agreeable to him than my company. I was that mad I jest up and cleared out o’ the camp, and started across kentry toward my home, which is away back nigh Moosehead Lake.”
“But it seems you changed your mind some, and turned back,” remarked Rob drily.
“Jest what I did, younker,” admitted Zeb contritely.
“You had a reason in doing that, of course?” continued the boy.
“Well, I guess so!” chuckled Andy scornfully, as though he considered that a superfluous question when they had caught the discharged guide creeping into the bunk-house and evidently meaning to purloin the best of the stores left there by the hunting party.
“Keep still, Andy,” Rob hastily snapped, for he knew the other did not look as deeply into things as he ought, but often judged them in a superficial way.
Zeb glared at Andy as though he could give a pretty good guess what the other had in mind. The guide did not feel as kindly toward Rob’s thin companion as might be the case with regard to the scout leader himself.
“My reason was jest this,” he said firmly: “the more I got to thinkin’ about how good Mr. Hopkins had been to me and my fambly for the ten years he’s been hiring me as his head guide up here, an’ over in Canada, why, the more I felt ashamed o’ what I’d said an’ done. The stubborn feelin’ died away, an’ I was plumb sorry. I jest stopped short on the way to Wallace, an’ camped, so I could think it over some. An’ there I stayed two days, a-wrestlin’ with the nasty streak that had got aholt o’ me. Then I guess I come to my senses, for I made up my mind I’d tramp back here and eat humble pie. Once I’d got to that point, nothin’ couldn’t hold me in, an’ so I kim along. When I struck a match an’ read that ’ere notice on the door, I figgered that Mr. Hopkins ought to be back in a day or so, an’ that I made up my mind I’d wait here for him. Then I couldn’t understand why the door was fast, but I remembered thar was a loose shutter, an’ – well, I kim in.”
Rob wondered whether the guide were telling the truth. He more than half believed that it was a straight story, for the man looked penitent enough, and was surely humiliating himself to thus acknowledge his faults before boys who were strangers to him.
“Huh! Do you believe that yarn, Rob?” asked Andy, who it may as well be admitted was rather skeptical by nature, and apt to think the worst of any one whom he suspected not to be on the level.
“I don’t know what to think,” said Rob hastily. “It may be just as Zeb tells us, but he will admit himself that his actions looked mighty suspicious, and also agree that we are perfectly justified in keeping him tied up until Tubby’s uncle comes. Safety first is often a good motto for scouts to follow.”
“Oh, that’s all right, boys!” sang out the big guide, as cheerfully as a man who faced a long and tiresome period of captivity might be expected to appear. “’Course you couldn’t expect to take my simple word for it. None o’ you knows me. Mr. Hopkins, he’s slept alongside o’ me for ten years. I ain’t afraid o’ what he’ll say when he comes back from Tucker Pond. Do jest as you think best. I’m goin’ to take my medicine – and grin. I deserve the worst that could happen to me, arter treatin’ my best friend like I done.”
Rob liked the way in which he said this; it drew him closer to the man than anything else could have done. When any one has been foolish, and committed an indiscretion, repentance and frank admission of the wrong are after all the best signs of a return to reason.
“We’ll make you as comfortable as we can for the night, Zeb,” he told the guide. “In the morning we’ll see what we can do about it.”
“Jest as you say, sir; I guess I kin stand it. So you youngsters are Boy Scouts, be you? I got a nephew down at Waterville as belongs to the organization. When I was thar I thought his troop a right smart bunch o’ kids. The stunts I showed ’em about things connected with the woods pleased the boys a heap. If I had a son, he’d have to jine the scouts, or I’d know the reason why, ’cause I believes in the things they stand for, every time, but my kids is all three gals.”
“Well, he knows how to soft-soap, all right,” muttered Andy, still suspicious.
Rob had a pretty firm conviction that Zeb Crooks belied his name, and that he was as straight as a die. Still, it would hardly do to be too hasty in freeing him; they had better wait until morning at least, when all of them had cooled down and the matter might be properly debated and settled, majority ruling as it generally did in such matters. Rob felt pretty certain that he would have the backing of gentle-hearted Tubby, in case he wished to remove Zeb’s bonds.
Rob said nothing further, though he undoubtedly did a heap of thinking. With the assistance of his comrades he managed to get Zeb into one of the lower bunks. The man said he was fairly comfortable, and would doubtless manage to get some sleep, though his position was awkward, and of course his hands would feel “dead” from lack of circulation.
“I sure hopes you’ll decide in the mornin’ to believe me, boys, and undo these here cords,” he remarked, with unction, as they turned to leave him.
“Perhaps we may; wait and see,” Rob told him.
Andy shook his head and looked unhappy. Plainly he could not get it off his mind that the guide was what his name signified; and even though he had served Uncle George for ten years, doubtless he had been deceiving the good man all the time, only he had not been found out until now. Andy meant to “keep one eye open” during the remainder of the night, as he privately informed Tubby, thereupon causing that worthy further uneasiness.
They had thought to throw more fuel on the fire before climbing back into their bunks, so that the room would be lighted more or less during the rest of the night. If Andy chose to remain on guard, he was welcome to do so for all the others cared.
Tubby himself could not immediately get to sleep, for a wonder. Truth to tell, he was busy trying to figure out whether Zeb Crooks was a clever rascal or a blunt, honest backwoods guide, whose main faults possibly might lie in the possession of an easily aroused temper and a stubborn will.
Once or twice Tubby lifted himself on one elbow and stared hard toward the bunk where they had stowed the prisoner. He wondered if Andy could know better than Rob, and whether the big rough man right then might be working his hands free. Suppose Zeb should get loose, would he be tempted to turn the tables on them? Tubby tried to imagine how it would feel to have his wrists triced up like the legs of a fowl bound for the market. He did not believe he would fancy the sensation over well; and perhaps he should feel grateful to Andy because that worthy had promised to keep watch.
Then Tubby leaned forward and listened more carefully. Some one was sleeping soundly, that was sure, and the heavy breathing certainly came from the next bunk, where that alert guardian of their safety, Andy, had taken up his lodging. Tubby gave a scornful snort.
“Huh, a nice sentry he’d make, if our lives depended on his keeping awake! Guess I might as well drop off myself. If Zeb gets free while we sleep, and skips out, why, it’s just as well.”
After that all was still in the bunk-house. Even the man whose hands were so painfully fastened together must have made the best of a bad bargain and managed to get a certain amount of sleep; from which fact it would appear that Zeb’s mind was perfectly at ease, now that he had decided to do the right thing.
The night passed away, and dawn came at length. It was about this time that all of them were awakened by certain noises without. At first they fancied that the hunting party must have returned and were beating at the door demanding admittance.
Then suddenly Tubby was observed “making a bee-line” for the door as fast as he could go. As Rob and Andy tumbled from their bunks they saw him fumbling with the bar, which he dropped before either of the others could call out. With that Tubby flung the door open, and in frisked an active object that seemed to want to fairly devour the stout chum. Tubby was crying:
“It’s Wolf come back to us again, don’t you see? Good boy, you didn’t mean to desert your new friends, did you? Hey! Keep down there, and don’t eat me alive, please.”