neither while I"ve got a gun! Hear me?"
"What we goin" to do about this here kid then? We can"t let him go.
He"ll up and run back and blab. He"s heard too much about our business. We don"t want to go huntin" trouble, do we? Well, we"ll be huntin" trouble if we let him go. He knows too much and he knows all about who we be too."
"What does he know, now? He don"t know anything except what you"ve gone and blabbed yourself. We just caught him tryin" to swipe our cache. The stuff is our"n. "Tain"t his"n. Our stuff is our"n, ain"t it? What can he blab about? That"s what I want to know!"
"He"ll go and tell folks we"ve got this here swag from the ship, and it"ll go to the boss. That"s what he knows, and that"s what he"ll blab."
"Well, what we"ve got is our"n. He can"t prove we"ve got that there swag, and we"ll hide it where the boss can"t find it. He hain"t seen any swag around, has he? He can"t say he has neither, and he won"t. He just thought maybe we had that there fox skin. What"s that got to do with us? We don"t care what he thinks, and what he thinks won"t hurt us as I knows of. What we"ve got and what we ain"t got don"t make any difference to these fellers. What they don"t know won"t hurt "em. It ain"t theirs, and n.o.body better go meddlin" in what I has and does.
Let that there kid go now, Bill, and get him off"n our hands."
"You just leave him to me, Hank. I ain"t goin" to let him go and blab, I say, and get both of us in a hole. I"ve got _some_ say, hain"t I, Hank?"
"Well, don"t do any croakin" when I"m around to see, that"s all I"ve got to say. He"s your"n to do the way you want to with. I won"t have any finger in it. It"s your job, it ain"t mine."
"Well, I"ll do the croakin" some other way. You needn"t have anything to do about it if you"re afraid. I"ll do it all by myself."
"Afraid or no afraid I ain"t goin" to be mixed up in any croakin", and that ends it as far as I go."
Hank knocked the ashes from his pipe, refilled it from the black plug, and lifting a red hot coal from the fire placed it upon the bowl, and puffed for a moment. When the tobacco was glowing to his satisfaction, he flicked the coal back into the fire, and sat silently smoking.
Jamie, lying quiet, had listened to the conversation of the two men.
He was wide awake now. He did not understand the significance of "croaking," but the word had an ominous sound. It referred to something the man called Bill wished to do to him and something to which the man called Hank objected. He understood, however, the threat to throw him into the Bay. The fellow Bill wished to do this while Hank was determined to prevent it.
Instinctively Jamie felt that Hank was only defending him in order to protect himself. He had no personal interest in him, but did not propose to be involved in any trouble that might arise through some action that Bill wished to take. He was glad when, finally, it appeared settled that he was not to be thrown into the sea.
Bill arose and replenished the fire, and following Hank"s example refilled and lighted his pipe, then reseated himself.
Neither of the men spoke. Beyond their great hulking figures the fire gleamed and sent a circle of radiance. Beyond the circle the forest lay as black as a tomb. The snow fell steadily, and the wind sighed and moaned ominously through the tree tops.
What were Doctor Joe and the lads doing? Were they searching for him through the blackness of the night and the storm? If he had only followed Doctor Joe"s instructions and returned to camp in season!
Would these men kill him? Would he ever see the dear old home at The Jug again?
With these thoughts flashing through his mind Jamie prayed a silent little prayer:
"Dear Lord, don"t let un kill me! Take me back to The Jug again!"
Many times he repeated this to himself. Then there came to him something Thomas had once said when the mist was clouding his eyes:
"Have plenty o" grit, lad, and a stout heart like a man."
This comforted and strengthened him, and, like the prayer, he repeated it over and over again to himself as he lay watching the silent men.
For a long time he watched them and the fire beyond, and the falling snow and the black wall of the forest. Finally tired nature came to his relief. His eyes closed and he fell into a troubled sleep.
CHAPTER XVII
LOST IN A BLIZZARD
After a time Jamie awoke. The two men were still sitting by the fire and were again drinking from the bottle. He was uncomfortable in his cramped position, but dared not move, and he lay very still and watched the men and the fire and the black wall of the mysterious, trackless forest beyond. Shadows rose and fell and flitted in and out of the circle of firelight. Weird and uncanny they seemed, taking strange forms like dancing spirits. In the darkness outside the firelight and moving shadows Jamie fancied that terrible ghoulish forms were stalking stealthily and grinning maliciously at him.
For a long while Jamie lay awake and watched. Again and again the men drank from the bottle, and when they spoke at intervals their voices sounded unnatural and thick. Once one of them arose to replenish the fire, and he moved unsteadily upon his feet, at which the little lad marvelled, for he was a large, strong man. Presently Jamie"s eyes drooped again, and once more he slept.
When he again awoke dawn was breaking. Snow was falling heavily. The two men were in a deep sleep. The fire had died down to a bed of coals, and Jamie was shivering with the cold.
His arms were numb, and his body and limbs ached from the cramped position in which he lay because of his bound arms and feet. With some effort he turned over, and this brought him some relief, but not for long, and presently he rolled back to his original position that he might see the red coals of the fire.
Jamie tried to move his hands, but his wrists were too firmly tied, and the effort brought only pain. Then he lay still and studied the smouldering fire. Behind it lay the remnants of a back log that had been burned through in the centre. The inner ends of the log, where it was separated, were, like the coals before it, red and glowing, and he thought that if he could push them together they would blaze and give out warmth.
Then, suddenly, an idea flashed into Jamie"s brain. Those red ends of the log would burn the string that bound him, and he could free himself if he could only reach them and press the string against them.
His movements in turning over had not disturbed his captors. They were still sleeping profoundly. From the condition of the fire it was evident they had been sitting by it the greater part of the night and had replenished it at a late hour, else all the coals would have been dead.
Hank lay at the opposite end of the lean-to from Jamie, and Bill in the centre, with their feet toward the fire. Jamie was lying at the back, his head near Bill"s head and his feet toward the end of the lean-to farthest from Hank.
For several minutes Jamie studied the position of each and the possibilities of working his way out of the lean-to without awakening the men. Finally he determined to make an attempt to gain his freedom.
Cautiously and as noiselessly as possible he began to wriggle away, inch by inch, from Bill, and toward the fire. Several times he fancied the men moved restlessly in their sleep, but when he looked toward them they appeared to be still sleeping heavily. On each occasion, however, he lay still until he became wholly satisfied that he had been mistaken and that they had not been disturbed.
Little by little he edged away until at length he was well outside the lean-to. His efforts were painful and slow, but in the course of half an hour he was near enough to the end of the log to touch it with his bound feet. His exertions had set his blood in motion and inspired him with hope of success.
With much care and patience he pushed the stick until he was able to rest the string, where it crossed between his ankles, upon the glowing end. Drawing his feet as far apart as possible, with all the strength he possessed, he was quickly rewarded by feeling a relaxation, and in a moment his heart leaped with joy. The string was severed.
Squirming around upon his chest, Jamie arose to a kneeling position, and then stood erect. So far as his legs were concerned he was free.
Jamie"s first impulse was to run wildly away, but he restrained himself. Standing over the men he looked down upon them. Neither had moved, and to all appearances they were sleeping as soundly as ever.
"I"m thinkin" now I"ll try to burn off the string on my hands too," he decided. ""Twill be easier gettin" on with un free, and I"ll travel a rare lot faster with my arms loose."
Burning the strings from his wrists, however, proved a much more difficult problem than burning them from his ankles. He sat down with his back to the hot end of the stick, but discovered that it was no easy matter to find just the right position between the wrists.
Several efforts resulted only in painful burns on his hands, but he was not discouraged, and finally was rewarded. The string where it crossed between his wrists was brought into contact with the sharp point of the glowing hot stick, and though the reflected heat burned him cruelly he held the string pressed against the fire until at last it crumbled away and his hands flew apart.
"She took grit," said he, "but I made out to do un."
With the joy of freedom and the anxiety to escape his tormentors, Jamie was oblivious to the pain of his burned and blistered wrists. He could use both hands and feet, and was confident that he would soon find the camp and his friends.
Jamie ran as fast as his short legs would carry him. The snow was nearly knee deep, but it was soft and feathery and he scarcely gave it thought at first. He had no doubt that he knew exactly in which direction camp lay, and it never entered his head that he might go wrong or lose his way as he dashed through the woods at the best speed of which he was capable.
Presently the impediment of the snow compelled him to reduce his gait to a walk, and for nearly an hour he pushed on in what he supposed was a straight line, when he came suddenly upon fresh axe cuttings and a moment later saw through the thickly falling snow a familiar lean-to.
He stopped in consternation and fright, scarcely knowing which way to turn. He was within fifty feet of the two desperate men from whom he had so recently fled. In the storm he had made a complete circuit.
The men were still soundly sleeping, and instinctively Jamie backed away. He had lost a full hour of valuable time. The men might awake at any moment, discover his absence and trail him and overtake him in the snow.
These thoughts flashed through Jamie"s mind, and in wild panic he turned and ran until at length exhaustion brought him to a halt.
"They"ll sure be cotchin" me," he panted, "and I"m not knowin" the way in the snow! I"ll be goin" right around and comin" back again to the same place if I don"t look out! I can"t bide here," he continued in desperation. "I"ll have to go somewheres else or they"ll sure cotch me!"