A Boy of the Dominion Part 14

"Up you gets, one and all," he sang out. "Jest give them hosses a mouthful of water, and then we'll ride. Time we come along with the others we'll feed, and then away agin."

That was Joe's first experience of working on an empty stomach, and truth compels us to add that he found the experience a trying one. He felt hollow and sickly. The sharp morning air made him ravenous; he simply longed for the hour for breakfast.

"Guess you do feel holler," laughed Hank, when our hero told him of his feelings. "I mind the time when I was jest a slip of a lad and felt jest as you do. But I was away huntin' with my father then, for he made a tidy pile of dollars by gettin' skins and selling 'em in Montreal, and sometimes over the border in America. Wall, he were a hot 'un. He never seemed to want to eat, only when he was set down to it--gee!--he could put away double as much as the average man. It was then that I used to get that sinking sensation. We'd be out at daylight winter mornings, with the thermometer 'way down below zero, and the air that crisp it made you jest long for a bite. And I've been two days and more without a trace of food. That's mighty hard, you'll believe me. Howsomever, you stick it out this time. You'll soon get used to waitin'."

However, when three hours had pa.s.sed, during which the party had made very rapid progress through a country thinly covered with trees, the famis.h.i.+ng feeling with which Joe had been a.s.sailed had worn off to a considerable degree.

"Feel as though I could go along comfortably all day without food," he told Hank. "I'm not nearly so hungry."

"You jest wait till you smell a steak cookin'," came the laughing rejoinder. "Gee! Won't yer mouth water jest! But we're mighty near them folks now. Seems to me as ef I could smell a fire burnin'."

A mile farther along they came upon their comrades camped in a little clearing. Mike at once came towards them.

"He was camped sure enough last night," he said; "but Hurley's a smart 'un. He heard us comin', and streaked straight off; but he ain't far.

We've picked up a heap of lost way, and to-night we'll nab him. You ain't fed?"

"None," answered Hank, dropping from his horse. "These here lads is fairly shoutin' fer food."

They made a cheerful party round the fire, and Joe sniffed expectantly as George skewered some steaks and set them to frizzle over the blaze.

And oh, the enchantment of that open-air meal and this camping life!

Joe revelled in it. Never had he tasted such juicy and succulent meat.

Never before had steaming tea seemed so very entrancing. And think of the future! The excitement of this chase had grown upon him. In a measure he was sorry for Hurley; but then he was a brutal murderer, and such people must not expect anything but strict justice.

"We'll have him come to-night," said Mike, with a.s.surance, as he led the way to the horses. "You folks had better see to yer guns. There's never no saying when this Hurley won't stand to his ground and put up a fight. Ef he does, wall, things will be flyin'. He ain't likely to be so careless as to miss a chap who stands out clear under his sights, as ef he was askin' fer a bullet."

The announcement sent a flush to Joe's and to Tom's cheeks. They rode forward eagerly, wondering when the silence of the forest might be broken by a rifle report, and whether, supposing that event happened, either one of them would drop out of his saddle.

"Makes a chap tingle all over," Joe admitted to Hank. "But I ain't going to let this Hurley scare the life out of me, not by a long way."

"Good fer you," came the answer. "I ain't afeard of his bullets, only lest he should beat us and give us the goodbye. That'd be tarnation bad fortune."

The result of this long chase was, in fact, still very much in the balance, and it remained to be seen whether Joe and his friends would yet lay their hands on the murderer, and if so, whether our hero would be fortunate enough to recover his dollars and that vastly important letter.

CHAPTER IX

Lost in the Forest

"Them 'ere Injuns has stopped, and the hull crowd of us is collecting together," suddenly exclaimed Hank Mitch.e.l.l, when the party of pursuers had marched steadily throughout the day till evening was approaching, and were in the depths of a forest which, for three hours past, had been getting denser and denser. "I've seed myself signs that told as Hurley wasn't so far ahead, and I'd reckon that Fox and his friend have seen something more than warns 'em that things may be warmin' up in a little. There's Mike beckoning."

It was not an easy matter to see far in this thick forest, even when the light was at its best, which was not the case now that evening was approaching. But it happened that Mike and the Indian trackers had come to rest at a spot which gave the others a clear view of them, so that as those marching in the rear came up, they were able to see the comrades who preceded them gathering into a circle. Mike addressed Peter and Hank immediately on their arrival, speaking in subdued tones.

"He ain't got much go left in him," he said excitedly. "Fox reckons as he went right off to sleep in his saddle hereabouts, and happenin' to ride under a low branch, got swept off his horse. See here."

He had halted his friends a little to one side of the track followed by Hurley, a track easily to be distinguished; for the two horses the murderer had stolen trod down undergrowth at every step, leaving a trail which even Joe, with all his inexperience, could have followed.

Some yards ahead it was evident that something unusual had happened, for the undergrowth was trodden down in a wide circle. Hank, his head down, his eyes glued to the trace, sniffing as if he were a dog, at once shot from the circle and, taking pains to tread outside the trail, inspected every part of it.

"Huh!" he grunted, with satisfaction which was evident. "Hurley ain't the man that can put up with much loss of sleep. Besides, he's been bustling these many hours, and that makes a man tired. You kin see what happened. Of course, Fox and Bill were bound to notice it.

Reckon he carries a gun slung over his shoulder, and that was the cause of his tumble."

Joe looked the question he would have dearly loved to ask, and Hank, happening to catch his eye at that moment, beckoned to the lad.

"You come along over here and keep right clear of the trace," he said.

"Now, I know what you were about to ask. How'd I know as he had a gun slung over his shoulder? Wall, here's the answer." He pointed to a low bough which stretched right across the trail, and at once Joe's eyes searched it. There was a small gash on the side from which Hurley must have approached the branch, and the gash extended underneath for some little distance, perhaps for a matter of three inches, while right at the end a piece of bark had been torn out.

"Plain, ain't it?" said Hank. "You could draw his picture, ef you had a pencil and paper and was a hand at sich things. Just tell us how it was."

"Fast asleep and bending forward," ventured Joe.

"Jest so. Bendin' forward, 'cos that's the way with a man that has dropped off in his saddle. Wall?"

"Gun slung over his shoulder--right shoulder, I should say."

"Why?" snapped Hank. "No guessin', now."

"Because the gash on this side of the branch slants in that direction, looking at it from below."

"Good fer you. Get ahead!"

"I shouldn't have guessed that the gash was caused by a rifle, though,"

admitted Joe, with candour. "You told me that part of it. However, I think the gun was over his right shoulder; the muzzle caught the branch and swept Hurley backward till he toppled out of his saddle. I suppose he awoke with a start and made a frantic effort to keep his seat.

That's when the muzzle--perhaps the sight of the rifle--dug deeper into the bark and ripped a piece away."

"You aer gettin' along fine," said Hank encouragingly. "What next?"

"There's where he fell," said Joe, pointing to the trace. "His fall startled both horses; one went to the right and the other to the left.

They were roped together in all probability, or they would have gone farther apart. Hurley picked himself up, scrambled on one of their backs, and went ahead."

"Cussin' at bein' so shook up," grunted Hank. "That's a fine tale, and you've told it well, young chap. But next time you must be the fust to spot things like this without gettin' hints from anyone. Mike," he called softly, "what'll you do?"

"That's jest what I'm wonderin'," came the answer. "How'd you fix it?"

The shrewd and sharp little Hank had no doubts on the matter; in fact, it was clear that he had come to a decision promptly, the moment he had seen what had happened. "There ain't two ways for it," he said crisply. "Hurley's 'way ahead, and not so far, neither. Most like, ef he feels as we're close on his heels, he'll choose a likely spot and turn. Now we don't want to let him feel anything of the sort, and so it's up to us to creep on without a sound. Ef I war boss here I'd send three or four of the party 'way ahead, t'others to follow, and be ready to dash along up ef there was a call. But four ought to be enough to collar Hurley ef he was without a rifle, while the same number kin easy round him up and hold him till t'others arrive."

"Then that's jest what I was thinking," cried Mike, looking across at Peter.

"Same here," nodded that individual. "Hank aer the boy fer jobs of this sort. He's had experience, while chaps same as I am can't hope to know much about tracking, when the best part of our time's spent on our sections. Ef he says go ahead like that, why, in course it's up to us to do it."

"Then we'll send Fox along," said Mike. "I'll go ahead too, and Hank with me. Who else?"

"Why not Joe?" asked Hank suddenly. "He's cute, he is, and he ain't likely to get scared. You could shoot, lad, ef this Hurley turned and fired in amongst us?"

"I would certainly," admitted Joe. "Of course, I don't want to have to, for I should hate to kill or injure a man; but then he's a murderer."

"He's that," agreed Mike, with energy, "and he don't deserve soft treatment. Still, ef he'll come in quiet, he shall be treated fair; ef he don't, why, then, it's his own lookout. Best go afoot; eh, Hank?"