At daylight the next morning breakfast had been eaten, and the two wolfers were on their way to their new hunting grounds, Lish leading his pony, which was loaded with their outfit and the skins they had secured, and Tom bringing up the rear. If the latter had been as skilled in woodcraft as his brother was he would not have been long in finding out that Lish had told him a falsehood regarding his movements of the previous day.
There were no signs of a trail in the gorge which they followed from one valley to the other, and that proved conclusively that the wolfer had not been along there during the last twenty-four hours.
But Tom took no note of the fact. He was utterly indifferent to everything around him, 341and it is hard to tell how he would have lived if he had not been cheered and sustained by the hope—which sometimes amounted to positive conviction—that there were brighter days in store for him, and that his affairs would soon take a turn for the better.
He was in a very repentant frame of mind, and promised himself over and over again that, if he ever got back among civilized people, he would lead an honest and respectable life, in spite of all the temptations that could be thrown around him.
His first hard work should be to return every cent of Mr. Smith’s money, and when that was done he would once more be able to look honest men in the face.
The valley, which they reached at noon that day, was by no means as fine a hunting ground as Tom had expected to find it. It was not so well watered or so effectually protected from the storms as the one in which they had first taken up their abode, and consequently the deer, and the wolves that preyed upon them, were not found in any great numbers.
Their want of success of course had its effect 342upon the temper of his partner, and for three long weeks he never spoke a civil word to Tom, who lived in constant apprehension of open violence.
Lish grumbled every time the firewood gave out before morning, and swore whenever he looked at the very small supply of bacon and cracker they had left.
Finding that he grew worse every day, Tom, who feared an outbreak above all the other evils that threatened him, gradually gave up wolfing and devoted himself to his camp duties; but not even the sight of the nice fat grouse that were set before him every night, and which Tom had snared in the neighboring woods, could put Lish in good humor.
From this time forward Tom provided all the fresh meat that was served up in that camp, for Lish would not expend his ammunition on anything smaller than a deer, and that was an animal he did not often see.
When Tom stopped putting out bait for the wolves he gave the wolfer another cause for displeasure, and the man took his own way to show how mad he was over it.
343One afternoon, when Tom came in from making the round of his snares, he was surprised to see that the skins they had captured, which were piled in one corner of the lean-to after being cured, had disappeared.
Believing that the camp had been robbed during his absence, and that he would be sure to suffer for it when his partner returned at night, Tom threw down the grouse he had captured and made the circuit of the lean-to, looking for the robber’s trail.
He found it after a short search, and the moment he saw it he knew that it had been made by Lish himself. He followed it up for a few hundred yards, taking care to step exactly in the wolfer’s tracks, and presently came within sight of a tree, which had been partly uprooted by the wind.
Among the branches, about twenty feet from the ground, was a small platform, built of poles, and on this platform was something covered with a blanket.
To scramble up the inclined trunk, raise the blanket, and see what was under it was scarcely two minutes’ work. The blanket was 344one of his own, and the objects it concealed and protected from the weather were the skins he and Lish had captured.
At the sight of them Tom uttered a low whistle; and, after looking all around to make sure that his partner was nowhere in sight, he backed down the trunk and set out for camp at a rapid walk, being careful, as before, to step squarely into the wolfer’s tracks.
Arriving at the lean-to, he replenished the fire; and, picking up one of the grouse, began plucking it, working as fast as he could in order to make up for lost time.
He knew that Lish would be sure to take him to task for something the moment he returned, and if he did not find a cup of hot coffee waiting for him, supplemented by as good a supper as Tom’s limited means would allow him to prepare, something disagreeable might happen.
“What object could Lish have had in view when he stole those skins out of the camp and hid them in that tree?” Tom asked himself over and over again. “I can’t think of any unless he intends to clear out and leave me to 345shift for myself. If he should do that, what in the world would become of me?”
While Tom was turning this alarming thought over in his mind he heard somebody coming toward the camp at a rapid pace, stamping furiously through the crust as if to give emphasis to some words he was muttering to himself, but which Tom could not catch.
The next moment the wolfer came round the side of the lean-to. In one hand he carried his rifle and in the other a stout switch, which he was brandishing wildly over his head. His face was fairly black with fury.
“Look a-yere!” he yelled, as he leaned his rifle up in one corner and approached the place where Tom was sitting. “What ye bin a-snoopin’ round out thar in the timber fur to-day? Don’t be long in speakin’ up, kase this hickory is gettin’ heavy, an’ it will have to drop somewhar purty soon!”
Tom was surprised, and greatly alarmed besides. He was alarmed by the expression of almost ungovernable fury he saw in the 346wolfer’s face, and surprised to learn that his movements had been so readily detected, after all the pains he had taken to cover his trail.
But there was nothing surprising in that, for if he had carefully examined his trail he would have seen that there were the prints of two boot heels in each one of the tracks that had been made by the wolfer’s moccasined feet.
“What ye bin a-pokin’ yer nose into my business fur?” shouted Lish, making the switch whistle as he whirled it around his head. “What made you go out an’ hunt up them skins?”
“What made you hide them?” asked Tom, as soon as he could speak. “It looks as though you were trying to rob me of my share. Some of those skins belong to me.”
“I hid ’em kase I aint a-goin’ to have ye slip inter the camp when I aint here, an’ go off to find yer brother.”
“If my brother was anywhere within reach of me it would take a better man than you to keep me here,” was the thought that passed through Tom’s mind.
347But he knew better than to give utterance to it.
“Thar don’t none of them pelts b’long to ye, an’ I don’t want............