CHAPTER VIII
Hank makes his Appearance
The sound of hoofs trampling through the wood was the first thing thatcame to Joe's ears as he sprang from his spruce bed and looked abouthim. Someone was coming towards the camp through the forest, whileabout the still-smouldering fire lay the figures of his sleepingcomrades.
"Peter and Mike coming back, I expect," he told himself. "Butsupposing it were Hurley?"
There was just a bare possibility that the sounds were produced by thatindividual, and, lest it should be the case, Joe gripped a thick stakeand awaited events. Then a shout escaped him, while an answeringwelcome hail sounded through the camp and set every one of the sleepersstirring.
"I see you right enough!" shouted Peter, laughing as he dropped fromhis horse. "I seed Joe grip a hold of a stake when he heard us,thinking maybe we was Hurley. He was game, he was, to put up anotherfight with the bully. But we ain't, you see, lad, and so let's get tobreakfast."
It appeared that Peter had met with Mike late the previous night, andthe two had rested beside the railway; and now they came into the camp,bringing with them a couple of followers. These proved to beIndians--not the Red Indian one sees often pictured, but lean men withbent figures, and dressed in shabby buckskins. Their black hair wastrained back from their faces and tied at their necks. Their thinfaces were seamed and lined as if with many troubles, while their bentfigures, their wrinkles, and their general appearance gave one theimpression that Mike had brought old men with him.
"But don't you think it," said the policeman, when he dropped from hishorse and was seated near the fire awaiting a meal. "They're men I'veemployed this many a time, and first-rate trackers. One's known asFox--and a fox he is, if one judges by his cunning--the other hasn't aname, so far as I have ever gathered, so he's 'Bill' to me, and answersthe name promptly. They ain't much good at talking, either of 'em,though they can speak English. I've known them sit all day long roundthe fire and not pass more than a dozen words between them; but clevertrackers they are, and that's why I've brought 'em. Now, boys,something to eat, and then away."
By now the fire had been coaxed into a blaze, while a number of steakswhich George had prepared overnight, and had already skewered, weresoon sizzling over the flames. Tom came running back to camp from astream to which he had been sent, and at once the kettle was hung inposition. As for Joe, he felt a new lad indeed. He might never havecome by an injury, though his head was tender enough when one touchedit. He slipped from the camp with Jim, and the two, having walked alittle way down the stream, stripped off their clothing and had asplendid dip.
"Regular dodge of an Englishman," grinned Jim, as he sat on the bank toallow the sun's rays to dry him. "Your Englishman comes to a foreignpart and plunges right into the first pond he happens on. There'shardly another man that's so keen on bathing. But it freshens afellow--eh, Joe? How are you this morning?"
"Hungry," came the prompt answer. "But I felt I wanted a livener, andthat dip has done it. Suppose we shall ride right off as soon asbreakfast is finished?"
"You've hit it; Peter and Mike has brought along some spare hosses.There was Peter's to begin with, and Mike's; then there was two in myrig and two in Jack Bailey's, making six in all. With the Indians wemuster just eight, so two more hosses were wanted. You see, we ain'tgoing to take rigs with us. They'd be in the way, most likely,especially in this sort of wooded country. We shall ride; Peter'sbrought along the saddles."
When they returned to the camp and were in the midst of theirbreakfast, the voluble Peter explained matters fully.
"Me and Mike hit right up agin one another last night," he said, "andin course we got to gassing. We allowed as rigs warn't no sort of useaway up in the country to which this Hurley had made, so it war clearthat extry hosses was needed. Wall, we fetched 'em. Hank Mitchell,one of the best fellows you could hap upon, lent 'em willingly, andhe's coming to join us. He's bringing guns, too, for they're to comealong in a freight train from Sudbury fust thing this morning; so'ssaddles and tinned provisions. Hank has also arranged fer two of hishands to come right along here and clear back with the rigs, fer itwouldn't do to leave 'em here fer more than a day or two. People'smighty honest in these parts, but there might arrive someone who was astranger, and who jest happened to be in want of a rig same as one ofthese. So they'll be took back to the rail track, near HankMitchell's, and wait thar till we returns. Why, ef that ain't Hankhisself! He has been extry nippy."
A short, spare man came cantering up to the camp at that moment, hisapproach having been hidden from all by the trees which surroundedthem. He dropped from his saddle with as much ease as the average mansteps from one board to another, and walked swiftly forward.
"Hallo, mates, how'dy?" he said softly, as if he were afraid of havinghis voice heard. "My boys are close handy with the guns and sichlike.Which one's Joe, him as I've heard of?"
"Thar," cried Peter, grinning, and pointing to our somewhat bashfulhero.
"Do yer drink?" asked Hank abruptly, stepping across till he was closeto him, and regarding Joe with a pair of eyes which might be describedas actually piercing.
"No," was the equally abrupt answer. Joe, in fact, stared hard at thisnewcomer. He didn't quite know what to make of him, though, to besure, he rather liked his looks. Hank's nut-brown face, clean-shaven,unlike most others in those parts, with its deeply-lined forehead andthe whisps of grey hair showing beneath his hat at the temples, spokeof one who had seen many years. But it was a kindly face, kindly andkeen; that, perhaps, was the better description. Every movement of thelittle man was jerky. His lips, when he spoke, opened sharply andclosed again, as if he were anxious to hide his teeth. His eyesblinked with spasmodic suddenness. He even seemed to breathedifferently from other men.
"Smoke?" he demanded, firing the question off as if he were glad to berid of it, and yet observing Joe all the while, as if he wouldpenetrate to the centre of his brain and steal the very thoughts he wasthinking.
"Sometimes," admitted Joe, somewhat guiltily; "not often; shall dolater."
"Huh! Larned farmin' yet?" asked Hank, with comical shortness.
"Trying," grinned Joe, beginning to see fun in this catechism, andtaking a decided liking for the newcomer; "but I ain't through yet. Iadmit that I don't know everything. There's a few things yet thatPeter can teach me."
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" shouted the latter. "He's had you, Hank. He's alwayslike this is Hank," explained Peter. "He don't 'low no one to befriends till he's sort of axed him all sorts o' questions. And guesshe jest don't care much fer a Britisher as comes out here and knowsmost everything. Git ahead, Hank, boy," he bellowed. "Joe ain't oneo' them. He's one of the right sort; he's a good plucked 'un."
"You kin shake," said Hank, his comical gravity unmoved, though therewas just the suspicion of a flutter of an eyelid. "Lad, I'm proud tomeet yer. The chap as could stand up to Hurley are worth knowing.Shake!"
Joe shook. He danced almost on the toes of one foot, for this leanlittle man had a hand grip of iron. His fingers closed round ourhero's as if he meant to crush the very bones, while those curiouslypiercing eyes never left the young fellow he was addressing.
"I say," roared Joe, "now try again."
He offered his hand for the second time, while those who observed Hanksaw distinctly a twinkle of his eye. He even smiled, a rarity withHank, and responded at once to our hero's invitation. This time Joereturned the grip with interest. Some weeks of farming, of rough workin Peter Strike's service, had hardened his muscles, and anyone couldsee that he was filling out. Indeed, but for the fact that Hank hadtaken him unawares, Joe's fingers would not have received such acrushing. Now he let them close round the diminutive Canadian's like avice, and fixed his eyes on those two piercing orbs which he found sowonderfully attracting. The two closed in to one another till but ashort space separated them, and then and there exchanged a second grip,the grip which spoke of friendship, of strength, of firm
ness, ofvirtues which the man who lives his life in the open and meets dangerand privation often enough prizes above all other virtues. As forHank, the suspicion of a smile in his eyes went promptly. He was allseriousness. Indeed, all of a sudden he seemed to view Joe from analtogether different standpoint. A minute before he had been greetinga green lad, one who had shown pluck and deserved encouragement; butnow he seemed to have dipped somewhat into the spirit which kept Joegoing, which dominated every waking moment of his life, which made ofhim the youthful leader of that band of volunteers aboard the emigrantship, and again urged him to stand fast in Tom's behalf in spite ofHurley the bully. Intuitively Hank seemed to guess that Joe hadbalance and grit, and promptly he acknowledged the fact.
"I'm fair glad to meet you," he said. "From now on you've a friend."
Then they sat down round the fire, while their comrades watched theirfaces for some few minutes.
"Hank ain't often done a thing like that before," Peter whispered toJoe a little later. "He's just the queerest bird I ever met, and don'tnever show no feeling; but he's took to you, jest as a duck takes towater. He's got grit has Hank. I've knowed him foller a chap as hadrobbed a widow woman, follow him for two weeks on end, and take himalmost aboard the ship he had booked by. That meant determination, orgrit if you like to call it so. But here's the men with the guns, andguess Mike's getting restless. Now jest take the word of one who'sbeen out here a while and has met bad men. Ef you sight Hurley, don'tstand hankey-pankey. Back in England you'd call to him and then givechase ef he didn't round up. Out here you kin call to him; but ef hishands don't go sky high above his head, and that in a jiffy, give himlead--lead, boy, or else he'll be putting daylight through your ownvaluable carcass. This ain't a game we're after; we're following a manthat's murdered a woman, his own wife, and who's got nothing but thehangman's rope before him. He won't be over particular what happens tothose who pursue him. Now, Mike, what's to do?"
"Fall in and arrange the order," cried that latter, swinging his legacross his horse. "First, Tom there, stamp out the embers of the fire.Things haven't got dried up yet awhile, for the weather hasn't beenoverhot. But it's always as well to be careful; a forest fire issomething wuss than chasin' a murderer. Now, Fox and Bill go ahead.Ah, they're there already--that shows that they've had practice. ThenI'll follow them close. Jack Bailey and George can ride along side byside. Jim and Tom can come along next, while I guess that Peter andHank had best ride right in rear, taking Joe with 'em. It'll teach hima heap, ef only he keeps his eyes and his ears open. Boys, there'sgrub and stuff to bring along, so divide it up and drop it into yoursaddle bags."
Some little while before, Hank's men had put in an appearance, bringingstout saddles with them, all of which were fitted with two canvas bags.There were rifles also for each one of the party, as well as revolversand the necessary ammunition. The provisions consisted of tinnedgoods, as well as the stuff which the thoughtful Jack Bailey hadbrought with him. It took but a little while to share out all thethings, and very soon the cavalcade was mounted. Then, having seenHank's men ride off with the rigs trailing behind them, the party setits face to the north and rode off in wake of the murderer. And a veryformidable and business-like little band they appeared. We havealready described the Indians known as Fox and Bill. They sat theirhorses bareback, as if they were part and parcel of their mounts, whilenot once had either addressed the other or one of the white men theywere to lead, save in the case of Mike, when all that passed seemed tobe a succession of incomprehensible grunts. For the rest, Mike himselfmade a fine figure of a horseman, and sat head and shoulders aboveeveryone, for his horse was big like himself. Jack and George followedsome ten paces behind him, boyish eagerness on their faces. Then cameJim and Tom, none the less eager, while in rear of all the lanky Peterbestrode his horse with legs swinging loosely on either side, whileHank sat his saddle for all the world as if he were a statue. The manwas taciturnity itself. He was almost as reserved and silent as theIndians, and for watchfulness, there never was such a man.
"Guess them two Injuns has made a mistake," cried Peter, after a while,pointing away from the track they were following. "There's marks ofhosses to one side. Hurley stopped jest here."
"And rested," agreed Hank, with brevity. "They ain't missed that. NoInjun could. They've seed that Hurley rested there some while, andthen went on agin. They didn't need to go and look; they kind of knewit."
"How?" asked Joe curiously, himself puzzled to see how the Indianscould have divined such a matter.
"Simple," came the response. "We've been going this hour and more.Wall, reckon it war evening when Hurley abandoned the rig and pushedon. He travelled an hour, when it fell dark. He jest camped for theevening. That thar place was his fust stopping point. It ain't of noimportance except to tell us that he's got so much start of us thismorning, besides what he made by getting off before we broke camp.Young chap, this here's a sorter stern chase. Time's everything in it.Hurley's got, say, three hours' start, and the country ahead is wooded.Wall, we've got to make up that three hours afore we can come up withhim, and stopping jest to see what sort of a bed he made last nightain't a-going to help us. See?"
Joe did; he smiled at Hank. "Never even crossed my brain," he said."Somehow, when one tackles a job like this for the first time, onedoesn't see things as does a practised hand."
"In course you don't," agreed Hank, winking back at him. "It's jestlike the farming; some chaps think they know everything, but theydon't. Most folks is bamboozled right from the beginning. They has tolearn; and tracking wants learning jest like farming. Now, jest yousee here; how should I know as Hurley warn't more'n three hours ahead?"
It was a conundrum. Joe puzzled and puzzled, and then gave up theriddle.
"Don't know," he said, disappointment in his voice. "How?"
"In course you don't know. How could you, youngster? But I'll larnyer. This here's a wooded country, as you've agreed. Wall, now, mostall the time we're steering in and out amongst the pines, and every nowand agin you or me has to separate because there ain't room. Hurley'sgot two hosses--don't ferget that--and he can't so easily separate,'cos he'd lose a hold of the led hoss. So he has to ride round thenarrow places or squeeze through. He squeezes through at times, andwhat happens? Jest this."
Suddenly Hank drew in his mount at just such a spot as he wasmentioning, where the trees were grouped in a thick cluster, and thetrack led between two of them, both on the high road to become giants.Hank leaned from his saddle and pointed to a spot on one of the treesabout the height of his stirrup iron.
"Hurley barged through that 'ere place," he said, "and, so as his legshouldn't get jammed, he pushed his foot out and rid the hosses as muchto the other side as he could. Wall, his thick, hob-nailed toe cameagin this tree and chipped the bark. I've seen a dozen similar places."
Joe regarded the spot closely. It was evident, now that the fact waspointed out to him, that Hurley's toe had been responsible for theinjury.
"Wall?" demanded Hank. "See?"
"The place he's left? Yes," assented Joe; "but----"
"Jest so--wants larnin'," asserted Hank dryly. "Now, see here. Thisaer a deepish cut, and a jagged one. It's bleeding; there's gum oozingfrom the place, and it aer fresh and sticky. That shows as the woundwas done not so long ago. Ef it was last night, then the gum wouldhave balled down below, while the surface of the wound would hardly besticky, but gettin' dry. Now, how do I know as Mike or his Injunsain't done it passing along?"
"Because the gum has balled to a certain extent already, while I see itoozes very slowly from the wound."
"Good fer you," cried Hank, evidently pleased with his pupil. "That'sa fust lesson. That there gum ha' balled jest a little, as you'vesaid, and there's some of it still oozing. Wall, now, it stands toreason that a man don't go riding around in a wood like this when it'sdark, fer he'd get knocking his ugly head agin the branches. So heeither lies down and sleeps, o
r dismounts and leads the hoss. This wardone by a mounted man, and sense it ain't been light more'n threehours, and Hurley couldn't ride during the dark, why, there's myquestion answered. Even ef we hadn't seen the place where he camped,this here wound in the pine would ha' told us all the story. Jest youput that in yer mouth and chew it."
Joe did with a vengeance. The two rode on side by side for threehours, hardly exchanging another syllable; but all the while our herowas observing. If he had imagined previously that he was a fairlylively individual, quite wideawake and aware of his surroundings, hewas beginning to discover, particularly in the company of this sharplittle Hank, that he was by no means a marvel.
"See whar Hurley stopped fer a bite?" asked Hank one time, as theypressed along across a more open part of the forest. "You didn't?Wall, jest ride back a pace and take another squint. It aer fairlytalking to yer."
They returned some twenty paces, and Joe looked about him eagerly. Butnot a sign did he see to convince him that Hurley had pulled up andeaten. Hank grinned, one of those irritating and superior grins. Hisdried-up face became seamed with subdued merriment, while Joe went thecolour of a geranium; and then, when in the depths of despair, he of asudden made a discovery. "Ah!" he gasped.
"Jest so," said Hank encouragingly.
"He hitched his reins over a branch, and the horse jerked his head andpulled the limb off the tree. There it is. There's the place where itbroke, and, by jingo! there's gum below, slightly balled already.Besides, there's a piece of paper a little to the side. Probably itcontained the food he was eating, while underfoot there are horses'hoofs in all sorts of positions."
Hank grinned the grin of a man who is elated. "That 'ere Mike'll haveto look to hisself, and so will the Injuns," he said. "Soon we'll haveyou leading this here party. But you have got the hang of the thingnow, lad. Never get tired of looking about you. There's tales to beread in most every spot. P'raps it's a bear that's passed. Then you'dsee a footmark same almost as ef it was a barefooted human. Or you maydrop on the splayed-out markings of a moose. That's the thing to firethe blood of a hunter. Maybe there's not a sign, but only trees androcks and stones that seems to tell nothing; but there's alwayssomething to be learned. A wolf has had his quarters here, fer there'sa hollow, and there's bones in heaps all round. Or there's been aprospecting party through the place, fer there's stumps that has beencut with an axe, and not broke off rough as ef the wind had done it.Tracking aer a game that don't tire, never! It's a thing that a manaer best at ef he's been born to it; but it can be learned, same asfarming. You ain't too old to start, not by a long way."
Not till the sun was directly overhead did the little band come to ahalt, and then only to allow them to eat a little, while girths wereloosened to give the horses every chance of resting.
"Steady and sure does it," said Mike, as he smoked his pipe and leanedagainst one of the trees. "Of course, we've got to push the pacewhenever we're able, and I reckon we've been doing that all along.Anyway, we've made up some of the distance, for single horsemen can getalong through these trees quicker than a chap who's got one to lead.It's when he gets to open country that he'll make the most of thehosses; for he'll be able to change over, and that means a heap, don'tit, Hank?"
"A heap," answered that individual jerkily. "But he has to sleep,Mike. That's where we'll have him."
"Eh? How's that? I ain't followed."
"Jest like this. He's fresh now we'll 'low, and ef he's able he'llpush on all through the night. To-morrow he'll still be going; butwhen night falls he'll be wanting a rest, and so, you may say, shall webe. Now, ef half this outfit pushes on, Hurley has to move ahead, andit'll be slow travelling. Our chaps'll go afoot, so as to rest thehosses. At dawn the rest of us rides along the trace after 'em, andcan cover the ground mighty quick in comparison, seeing that it'sdaylight. Wall, we leave half the hosses with the fust party, who'reresting, and push ahead. Our chums gets a four-hour sleep and comesalong after. Both of us is fresh that night, while Hurley can't hardlykeep his eyes open. It aer as clear as daylight."
The little man shut up like an oyster. He drew a pipe as diminutive ashimself from an inner pocket, crammed it with tobacco while his eyesrested dreamily on the forest, and then struck flint and steel withsuch unerring skill that he soon had the weed smouldering.
"It aer as clear as daylight," he puffed at the company. "Ef thingsgoes in the ordinary way, Hurley'll be taken just when I've hinted, andhe'll be in jail come the week-end."
"And supposin' they don't go along in the ordinary course?" asked Mike,who, from his experience, thought highly of the taciturn Hank. "Itain't of much use to set out follerin' a criminal and expecting him todo jest as you want him to. You've got to make allowance fer all sortsof strange turns. He's making north; he might fall in with somewandering Indians, or a prospecting gang, and get off along with thembecause of their help."
"Yep!" answered the usually silent Hank, with accustomed brevity."Guess he might. Even so, we ain't done with him. This outfit's outto catch a ruffian who wants catching badly."
"You bet!" agreed Peter, with a quick shake of his head.
"A brute who's been and murdered his wife," cried Jim, his faceflushing.
"The sort of bully whose capture we must make our duty," declared JackBailey, not the least enthusiastic of the party.
"Yep!" responded Hank. "So it comes to this, Mike. Supposin' he doesdo something we can't yet guess at, why, where's the odds? We stillgoes on after him. And sooner or later, barrin' regular bad luck,we'll have him. That's what I'm out fer. Guess it's the same with youand the other partners."
All that afternoon they pushed on through the forest, sometimespressing their way through closely-grown pine trees, and then throughthick masses of maple, of spruce, of birch, or of the scarlet sumac.At times streams cut across their path--for Canada is a well-wateredcountry for the most part--and more than once had to skirt the edge ofgreat lakes. But always Fox and Bill went ahead without hesitation.Not once had they met with a break in the trail. Their ferrety eyeshardly seemed ever to look to the ground. It seemed, indeed, as ifthey followed the trail of the murderer by intuition alone. When nightcame pine stumps were set fire to and the chase continued.
"You kin say as we're making even way with him," said Hank, who stillrode with our hero. "He's got to find his way amongst the trees, andhe's walking, I guess. Wall, so are we. But we've pine knots to lightus, and kin follow the trace easy. It's to-morrow night that'll be theteaser."
The early morning found the devoted little band emerging into a stretchof open country. But there were trees again in the distance, andalways the tracks left by the fugitive went due north.
"A child could follow all the way," declared Hank, as they went on at asteady walk, sometimes trotting to change the monotony. "This here'sgrass country, and no man can ride through it at this season withoutleaving a trail. I wonder he ain't tried some tricks to throw us off,sich as droppin' into a stream and riding down along the bed; but heain't, and it begins to look as ef he knew there was someone after himand was feelin' hustled. All the same, he's 'way ahead; you can't geta glimpse of him across the open."
Halting for meals, and to give the horses a rest, the band had reachedwooded country again that evening, and about eight o'clock came to ahalt.
"Here's where we camp," said Mike. "Now we'll divide up. Some of ushas a feed and a smoke, and then goes on ahead on foot; t'others has asleep along of the hosses, and then rides on at the first streak ofdawn. Who's going on?"
It took but a little while to settle this point, and since it wasagreed to by all that young fellows like Joe and Tom needed sleep morethan did older men, and, moreover, had harder work to do without it,these two remained in the camp, Hank and Peter staying with them. Foxand Bill, with a curt grunt, assented to the fact that they shouldproceed at once. Mike, of course, was one of the forward party, whileGeorge and Jack Bailey and Jim completed its numbers.
About an hour later the little band selected to move on in advance leftthe camp in Indian file, Fox leading, with Bill immediately behind him.They left their horses with their comrades, so as to give them a goodrest.
"Yer see," explained Hank, "hosses is queer cusses. They kin stand adeal of gruelling work ef they're fed right, and most of these here iscorn fed. But you can't drive 'em too hard. There's no other animalthat breaks his heart sooner, and that's a fact. They're that game,they'll keep on till they're ready to drop. Therefore, you've got tosave 'em, particularly seein' as Hurley has got two to our one, and sokin rest 'em in turn. Now the sooner we get stretched out the better."
There being no need to set a watch, all who were remaining in camp atonce wrapped themselves in their blankets and threw themselves upon thebeds already prepared--consisting of the leafy tips of small sprucetrees, than which nothing can make a more comfortable couch--and,needless to say, their eyes closed almost at once, for they were wearyafter their travels, and they slept till the first streak of dawnawakened Hank.
"Up you gets, one and all," he sang out. "Jest give them hosses amouthful of water, and then we'll ride. Time we come along with theothers we'll feed, and then away agin."
That was Joe's first experience of working on an empty stomach, andtruth compels us to add that he found the experience a trying one. Hefelt hollow and sickly. The sharp morning air made him ravenous; hesimply longed for the hour for breakfast.
"Guess you do feel holler," laughed Hank, when our hero told him of hisfeelings. "I mind the time when I was jest a slip of a lad and feltjest as you do. But I was away huntin' with my father then, for hemade a tidy pile of dollars by gettin' skins and selling 'em inMontreal, and sometimes over the border in America. Wall, he were ahot 'un. He never seemed to want to eat, only when he was set down toit--gee!--he could put away double as much as the average man. It wasthen that I used to get that sinking sensation. We'd be out atdaylight 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 beentwo days and more without a trace of food. That's mighty hard, you'llbelieve me. Howsomever, you stick it out this time. You'll soon getused to waitin'."
However, when three hours had passed, during which the party had madevery rapid progress through a country thinly covered with trees, thefamishing feeling with which Joe had been assailed had worn off to aconsiderable degree.
"Feel as though I could go along comfortably all day without food," hetold Hank. "I'm not nearly so hungry."
"You jest wait till you smell a steak cookin'," came the laughingrejoinder. "Gee! Won't yer mouth water jest! But we're mighty nearthem 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 littleclearing. 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. Youain't fed?"
"None," answered Hank, dropping from his horse. "These here lads isfairly shoutin' fer food."
They made a cheerful party round the fire, and Joe sniffed expectantlyas 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 ofthe future! The excitement of this chase had grown upon him. In ameasure he was sorry for Hurley; but then he was a brutal murderer, andsuch people must not expect anything but strict justice.
"We'll have him come to-night," said Mike, with assurance, as he ledthe way to the horses. "You folks had better see to yer guns. There'snever no saying when this Hurley won't stand to his ground and put up afight. Ef he does, wall, things will be flyin'. He ain't likely to beso careless as to miss a chap who stands out clear under his sights, asef he was askin' fer a bullet."
The announcement sent a flush to Joe's and to Tom's cheeks. They rodeforward eagerly, wondering when the silence of the forest might bebroken 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'tgoing 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, onlylest he should beat us and give us the goodbye. That'd be tarnationbad fortune."
The result of this long chase was, in fact, still very much in thebalance, and it remained to be seen whether Joe and his friends wouldyet lay their hands on the murderer, and if so, whether our hero wouldbe fortunate enough to recover his dollars and that vastly importantletter.
A Boy of the Dominion: A Tale of Canadian Immigration Page 8