Down the Slope

by James Otis

  CHAPTER XXIII

  A MISADVENTURE

  Neither Fred nor Bill had any desire to sleep, now that the solution ofthe mystery seemed so near. They remained in the same place where thehalt was made until the blackness of night gave way before the palethreads of light.

  "It's gettin' pretty nigh time to begin our work," Bill said, "an' thisheat we mustn't make any mistake."

  "I'm afraid we can't get near enough to see whether they take the moneyor not. Perhaps it isn't anywhere around here."

  "Then we'll follow 'em, if it takes a week, to find out what we'reafter. My idee is that we'd better separate, so's to make sure ofknowin' what's goin' on. You stay here, an' I'll creep over to the otherside, then we shall be doublin' our chances."

  "But what is to be done in case we don't see them dig up the money?"

  "Foller, no matter how long a chase they lead us. We shall come togethersomewhere on the road; but it won't be a bad plan for you to take alittle of this money. If we had only bought some grub last night thingswould be in better shape."

  "I can get along without food for a week if there is any hope of helpingSam."

  "The whole thing will be cleared up providin' we don't loose sight ofthem. Here's the money, an' now I'll be off. You'd best crawl nearerbefore the sun rises."

  With a pressure of the hand Bill started, making a wide detour aroundthe encampment, and Fred was alone, trying hard to repress a tremor ofexcitement which was causing him to tremble as if in an ague fit.

  After waiting half an hour, and assuring himself that Bill was well off,Fred began an advance, working his way from bush to bush untilconvinced he could approach no nearer with safety.

  By this time the sun had risen, and his rays falling upon the faces ofthe sleepers, awakened them.

  Both sprang to their feet, and Gus began building the fire while hiscompanion was busily engaged at something among the bushes--preparingfood for cooking, as Fred thought.

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

  "Yes, an' the sooner the better. There's no knowin' when that feller'sfriends may come sneakin' around agin. We'll hurry up with thebreakfast, 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 waftedin the direction of the watcher, causing him to feel the need ofsomething to eat.

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

  "Now let's divide the load," the boy said, as he leaped to his feet andbegan 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 nomention was made of it.

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

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

  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 parallelline with the boys.

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

  "Now they're going to dig up the money," Fred said to himself, and hepressed 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 tothe location for a permanent camp, Gus insisting they were far enoughaway from the villages, while his companion urged that twice thisdistance should be covered.

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

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

  The halt was continued for half an hour, and then the two boys pushed onagain, walking at a leisurely pace until the forenoon was well nighspent, 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 fromthe starting point, and that this was the end of the journey could betold by the preparations made.

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

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

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

  Such conversation as the boys indulged in had no especial interest tothe listener, since it referred almost entirely to the length of timethey 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 Billshould join him.

  During the evening Gus and his companion appeared to be very jolly; theytold stories, sang, and laughed as if there was nothing in connectionwith this "camping out" to be concealed, and the watcher in the busheswondered why the miner did not come.

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

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

  The hours passed without any change in the condition of affairs. Thecamp-fire burned itself out. The supposed culprits retired to rest, andFred, who had slept but a short time during the previous night, found itabsolutely impossible to prevent his eyes from closing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  When the prisoner's hands had been lashed to his side he was led to thecamp, where his legs were also bound, and the captors seated themselvesin 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 youan' 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' themoney what Sam Thorpe lost. Then you an' Skip tried to pump me. Now giveus 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 amoment's thought, "an' it stands us in hand to get outer this lively, orthe 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 toBlacktown?"

  "Of course not; but travelin' all the time when we mighter got on thecars 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 inshape, 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 cookingutensils together Tim walked along the bank of the brook to where a flatstone lay half submerged in the water.

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

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

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

  "So you've found out what you come for, eh?" the boy cried, angrily."Well, it won't do any good, for when we get through with sneaks theycan't do much harm. Pick up that load, an' if you don't walk lively I'llfind a way to make you."

  "How can I pick up anything while my legs are tied?"

  Tim unfastened the ropes from Fred's ankles; loosened one of his arms,and threw the cooking utensils over his shoulder.

  "Come on Gus," he said, impatiently. "We'll take turns carryin' the grub'till we've given the slip to whoever may be follerin', and then he cantote the whole load."

  Fred was faint from lack of food; but he mentally braced himself toperform the task, and Gus cried as he struck him a blow full in theface:

  "Step out now, an' when we make camp to-night you'll get a taste of howwe serve spies. It'll be a worse dose than the regulators ever gave you,an' don't forget it."

  "There's no time for foolishness," Tim said, impatiently. "His gang maybe close behind, an' we can't afford to pay him off yet a while."

  With this sage remark he took up the provision bag, and led the wayacross the base of the hill, at right angles with the course pursued onthe previous day, while Gus remained in the rear to urge the prisoner onin case he faltered.