The Corner House Girls Snowbound

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE TIMBER CRUISER

  Mr. Howbridge got up from his chair and advanced to meet thebackwoodsman with hospitable hand. The roughly dressed, bewhiskeredforester did not impress the young folks at first as being differentfrom the men who had driven the sledges to the camp or those who hadbrought the party up Long Lake in the ice-boats.

  Ike M'Graw had an enormous moustache ("like that of a walrus," Cecilewhispered), but his iron-gray beard was cropped close. His face waslong and solemn of expression, but his gray eyes, surrounded byinnumerable wrinkles, had a humorous cast, and were as bright as theeyes of a much younger person.

  He seized Mr. Howbridge's hand and pumped it warmly. His grip wasstrong, and Mr. Howbridge winced, but he continued to smile upon theold man.

  "Mr. Birdsall told me that if I wanted to know anything up here, orwanted anything done, to look to you, Mr. M'Graw," said the lawyer, astheir hands fell apart.

  "I bet he didn't say it jest that way, Mr. Howbridge," chuckled theman. "No. I reckon he jest called me 'Ike.' Now, didn't he? And 'OldIke,' at that!"

  Mr. Howbridge laughed. "Well, he did speak of you in that way, yes,"he admitted.

  "I reckoned so," M'Graw said. "Yep, I'm 'Old Ike' to my friends, andwhat my enemies call me don't matter at all--not at all."

  "I fancy you don't make many enemies up here in the woods, M'Graw,"said Mr. Howbridge, waving the visitor to a comfortable seat beforethe fire.

  "Nor friends, nuther," chuckled the man. "No, sir, there ain't sech aslather of folks up here to mix in with, by any count."

  Before the woodsman took his seat the lawyer introduced him to Mrs.MacCall and to Ruth, individually, and to the rest of the group ingeneral.

  "Hi gorry!" exclaimed Ike M'Graw, "you've got a right big fam'ly,haven't you? You won't be lonesome up here--no, you won't belonesome."

  "And that is what I should think you would be," Mr. Howbridge said."Lonesome. If you get snowed in you don't see anybody for weeks, Isuppose?"

  "Better say 'months,' Mister," declared M'Graw. "I've been snowed intomy cabin back yonder in the valley from the day before Christmas tillcome St. Patrick's Day. That's right."

  "I understood you lived near the Lodge, here, Ike?" said the lawyer.

  "Oh, I do in winter, since Mr. Birdsall asked me to," the man said."But sometimes--'specially when there was visitors up here--thepopulation of this here ridge got too thick for Old Ike. Then I'd hikeout for my old cabin in the valley."

  Quickly Mr. Howbridge put in a query that had formed in his mind earlyin the evening:

  "Have you been troubled with visitors up here this winter?"

  "No, sir! It's been right quiet here, you might say."

  "Nobody here at all until my party came yesterday?"

  "Well, not many. Some timbermen went through for Neven. His company'sgot a camp over beyond the Birdsall line. Yes, sir."

  "Strangers have not been here, then?"

  "Why, no. Not to my knowledge," said M'Graw, with a keener look at thelawyer. "You wasn't meanin' nothin' special, was you? I've been awayover to Ebettsville for a week. Nothin' stirring here before I went."

  The conversation had become general again among the main party. Mr.Howbridge drew his chair nearer to the old man's ear.

  "Listen," he said. "When my men came up yesterday and opened the housewith the key I had given them, they found somebody had been in herenot many hours before they arrived."

  "How'd they know?"

  "The fire had scarcely died out in one of the grates upstairs."

  "Hum! Fire, eh? And I hadn't been inside this Lodge since b'foreThanksgiving. Kinder funny, heh?"

  "Yes."

  "Anything stole?"

  "Not a thing touched as far as we know. No other traces but the embersin that grate--"

  "Hold on, Mister!" exclaimed M'Graw, but in a low voice. "What grateare you referrin' to? Which room was this fire in?"

  Mr. Howbridge told him. The old man's face was curious to look upon.His brows drew down into a frown. His sharp eyes lost their humorouscast. Of a sudden he was very serious indeed.

  "That thar room," he said slowly, and at length, "was Miz'Birdsall's."

  "So I believed from the way it was furnished and from what Frank hadtold me of the house."

  "Yes, Mister. That was her room. She thought a heap of sittin' in thatroom; 'specially in stormy weather. And the little shavers used toplay there with her, too."

  "Yes?"

  "Them little shavers thought a sight of their mom," pursued M'Graw.

  "I gathered as much from what Frank told me," Mr. Howbridge saidseriously.

  "By the way, Mr. Howbridge," said M'Graw in a different tone, "whereare the little shavers?"

  "You mean the twins, of course? Ralph and Rowena?"

  "Yes, sir."

  The guardian of the Birdsall twins rather hesitatingly told the oldman just why he had not brought Ralph and Rowena to Red Deer Lodge atthis time.

  "Ran away? Now listen to that!" murmured the old man. "That don'tsound right. Wasn't they with folks able to take keer of 'em?"

  "I thought they were," said Mr. Howbridge. "Rodgers, the butler, andhis wife."

  "Whoof!" exclaimed the backwoodsman, expelling his breath in a greatsnort of disgust. "That butler! Wal, what for a man wants to buttlefor, I don't know. I never could make it out that it was a real man'sjob, anyway. And that Rodgers was one useless critter. I don't blamethem little shavers for runnin' away from Rodgers an' that sour-applewife of his. I know 'em both."

  "If that is the case," said the lawyer sadly, "I wish I had known themas well as you appear to. Then I should have made other provision forthe twins right at the start."

  "But shucks!" said M'Graw, suddenly grinning. "Them two little shaverswill turn up all right. Ralph and Roweny are right smart kids."

  "That may be. But we don't know where they have gone to. Of course,Ike, they couldn't have got up here to Red Deer Lodge, could they?"

  "I don't know 'bout that," said the old man. "I reckon they could havegot here if they'd wanted to. But I know well 'nough they didn't--notbefore I went away to Ebettsville a week ago."

  "Of course not! Somebody would have seen them at Coxford. And then, ifthey had come here, where are they now?"

  "That's right, Mister," agreed Ike M'Graw. "But--but who started thatfire in the grate?"

  "If it had been the children wouldn't they have been found here?"

  "Mebbe. Tell you the truth"--and the old man's weather-beaten facereddened a little. "Well, to tell you the truth, when you spoke of thefire in the grate, I was some took aback. Miz' Birdsall bein' killedhere. And she likin' that room so. And she finally dyin' in it--well,I don't know--"

  "Ike! you are superstitious, I do believe," said the lawyer.

  "Mebbe. But that never killed nobody," said the man. "And funny thingsdo happen. Howsomever--Say!" he exclaimed suddenly, "how'd these folksthat made the fire get into the house and out again?"

  "Hedden, my man, says he found nothing broken or burst open. It musthave been by the use of a key. And the only key I knew of up here wasyours, Ike."

  "That's right," said the backwoodsman, nodding. "Mine's the only keyup here."

  "But the intruders couldn't have used that."

  "Yes, they could, too! I didn't take it with me when I went away fromhere."

  "Who would know where it was?"

  "Anybody might have seen it that looked into my shack," admitted theold man. "I ain't in the habit of hidin' things. We don't haveburglars up here, Mister. That key, and others, hung right on a nailbeside my chimley-place. Yes, sir!"

  "Then any person passing by could have found the key and entered theLodge?" asked Mr. Howbridge.

  "Only we don't have many folks passin' by," returned Ike thoughtfully.

  "I can't understand it."

  "It is a puzzle," admitted M'Graw. "Hi gorry! I ain't been to my shackyet since comin' back from Ebettsville. Mebbe the key ain't thar nomor
e."

  "To what door was it?" asked the lawyer.

  "This here," replied M'Graw, jerking a thumb toward the main entrance."Padlock on the outside of the door. All the other doors was barred onthe inside. Oh, she was locked up hard and fast!"

  "I don't understand it," said the lawyer. "You look when you go homeand see if the key is hanging where you left it."

  "Hi gorry! I will," promised the backwoodsman. "I'd better bring thekey over here tomorrow, anyway. And I reckon you want them figgers onthe timber Neven wants to cut?"

  "Yes. Of course, Ike, you have made no mistake in cruising thetimberland?"

  "I never make mistakes, Mister," said the old man. "That wouldn't doin the woods. The man that's brought up, as I was, with wildcats an'bears an' sech, can't afford to make mistakes. This was a lots wildercountry when I was a boy from what 'tis now."

  "I find that Neven's figures are very different from yours."

  "Likely. And I reckon they're in his favor, ain't they?" and M'Grawchuckled. "Ye-as? I thought so. Well, you take it from me, Mister: I'mworking for Birdsall's youngsters, not for Neven."

  "I believe that to be a fact," the lawyer agreed warmly. "I havealready told Neven that there are other companies that will make acontract with us if he doesn't care to accept your report."

  "I b'lieve I know this Birdsall strip a leetle better'n any otherfeller in these parts. I've lived on it twenty year, and knowed itwell before that time. I've seen some o' this timber grow. Reckon Iain't fooled myself none."

  After that Mr. Howbridge drew the old into the general conversation.Ike approved vastly of the young people, it was evident. Agnes and thesmaller children were popping corn. There were apples roasting on thehearth. The cider was handed about in glasses which one of theservants brought.

  "We shall look to you for help in amusing these young people, Ike,"Mr. Howbridge said. "Is it going to snow enough tonight to keep themindoors tomorrow?"

  "No, no," the old woodsman assured them. "It's snowing some, but notmuch yet awhile. This here storm that's comin' has got to gather fust.We'll get a heavy fall, I don't doubt, in the end; but not yet. Likeenough, 'twill be purty fair tomorrow."

  Reassured by this prophecy, the little folks soon after went to bed.Nor were the older members of the party long behind them. They had hada long and wearying day, and the beds beckoned them.