Down the Slope Part 43

"Then you still think we oughter leave here?" Gus said, interrogatively.

"Yes, an' the sooner the better. There's no knowin' when that feller's friends may come sneakin' around agin. We'll hurry up with the breakfast, an' start when it's over."

The boys had quite an outfit, as Fred could now see. A frying-pan, coffee-pot, tin cups, plates, and a bag well filled with provisions.

Gus acted the part of cook, and soon the odor of hot coffee was wafted in the direction of the watcher, causing him to feel the need of something to eat.

But little conversation was indulged in during the preparations for the meal. Gus' companion did not show himself until everything was ready, and then he ate hurriedly as if time was too precious to admit of talking.

"Now let's divide the load," the boy said, as he leaped to his feet and began tying the cooking utensils together. "If you'll see to the grub, I'll take care of these."

Fred gazed intently, expecting to see the money exposed to view; but no mention was made of it.

Gus shouldered the bag; his companion swung the remainder of the baggage over his shoulder, and the two started, walking rapidly around the mountain on a course which would carry them to the eastward at right angles with the railroad track.

Fred followed, remaining as far in the rear as was possible to keep them within view, and at such a distance that he could no longer overhear the conversation.

Beyond a doubt Bill was also in pursuit; but he did not show himself, and Fred fancied he was well over to the left travelling on a parallel line with the boys.

During an hour these relative positions were maintained, and then Gus threw down the bag as if to make a halt.

"Now they're going to dig up the money," Fred said to himself, and he pressed forward that he might see all which occurred.

In this he was mistaken, however. The two had simply stopped to rest, and such of the conversation as could be overheard only had reference to the location for a permanent camp, Gus insisting they were far enough away from the villages, while his companion urged that twice this distance should be covered.

"It's plain they have no idea of digging," Fred muttered. "It begins to look as if we had made a big mistake; but if that is so, what was the meaning of the talk they made last night?"

It was an enigma which he could not solve. Although believing they were on the wrong track, he did not feel at liberty to abandon the search until after consulting with Bill, and as yet no signs had been seen of that gentleman.

The halt was continued for half an hour, and then the two boys pushed on again, walking at a leisurely pace until the forenoon was well nigh spent, when they came to a full stop at the bank of a small brook.

They were now, as nearly as Fred could judge, eight or nine miles from the starting point, and that this was the end of the journey could be told by the preparations made.

From the bag a new hatchet was produced, and both set about hewing small trees and bushes with which to build a camp.

Not until this shelter was put up did Fred dare to move near enough to hear what was said, and then he found a hiding-place in the thicket twenty paces in the rear of the rude dwelling.

Even though two hours had been spent in this work, Bill did not show himself. It was possible, however, that he believed it dangerous to move about in the daytime, but would join his companion after dark.

Such conversation as the boys indulged in had no especial interest to the listener, since it referred almost entirely to the length of time they would remain in the camp.

When the day came to an end Fred had not heard anything of importance, and he resolved to advise an immediate return to Farley's when Bill should join him.

During the evening Gus and his companion appeared to be very jolly; they told stories, sang, and laughed as if there was nothing in connection with this "camping out" to be concealed, and the watcher in the bushes wondered why the miner did not come.

Half a dozen men might have walked around the encampment without being observed by the boys, and Bill's delay seemed very singular.

Fred did not dare to leave his place of concealment, and even if it had been perfectly safe to do so, he knew not in which direction to look for his friend, therefore nothing could be done save exercise patience.

The hours pa.s.sed without any change in the condition of affairs. The camp-fire burned itself out. The supposed culprits retired to rest, and Fred, who had slept but a short time during the previous night, found it absolutely impossible to prevent his eyes from closing.

Lower and lower his head drooped upon his breast until slumber came, and he remained unconscious for many hours.

The glare of the sunlight aroused him after the occupants of the camp were astir, and he sprang to his feet in alarm.

The noise made by this sudden movement startled those whom he had been detailed to watch, and before Fred could collect his scattered senses both the boys were upon him.

For a single instant the three stood surveying each other, and then Gus and his companion seized the bewildered spy by the arms, rendering useless his frantic struggles to defend himself.

"Can you hold him, Tim, while I get something to tie his hands?" Gus cried, and Tim replied:

"I can take care of three or four jest like him. Get the rope outer the bag; that'll be strong enough."

With a quick movement the boy clasped Fred around the waist and held him firmly until Gus returned.

When the prisoner's hands had been lashed to his side he was led to the camp, where his legs were also bound, and the captors seated themselves in front of him.

"Now tell us where that man is?" Tim said, sternly.

"What man?"

"You know who I mean; the feller what come over to Blacktown with you an' Skip."

"I wish I knew," Fred replied with a sigh.

"Don't lie to us," and Gus shook his fist in the helpless boy's face.

"That miner went to a lawyer an' told him I had a hand in stealin' the money what Sam Thorpe lost. Then you an' Skip tried to pump me. Now give us the whole yarn, or things will be mighty hot."

Fred remained silent.

"He's been follerin' us ever since we left the town," Tim said after a moment's thought, "an' it stands us in hand to get outer this lively, or the rest of his gang will be on us."

"Have we got to do more trampin' jest on account of a sneak like this?"

Gus asked fretfully.

"Do you want to stay an' run the chance of bein' carried back to Blacktown?"

"Of course not; but travelin' all the time when we mighter got on the cars in the first place is more'n I bargained for."

"If you'd had your way we'd been pulled in before this. Get the stuff in shape, an' I reckon we'll fix things right now. Let him carry the load, an' we'll take the tramp kinder easy."

Gus obeyed with a very ill grace, and while he was getting the cooking utensils together Tim walked along the bank of the brook to where a flat stone lay half submerged in the water.

Fred watched his every movement as he overturned this, and dug with a pointed stick until a small, square package had been exposed to view.

There was no question in the prisoner's mind but that the wrappings of cloth covered the money Sam was accused of stealing, and now the secret had really been discovered, all else seemed trifling in comparison.

"I wonder how it happened that I didn't see that when they left the last camp?" he thought, as Tim put the bundle carefully in the inside pocket of his coat.