CHAPTER XV

  PLUCK AND THE DEAD DOE

  "If you don't mind, just drop that little barker, MisterWhat's-Your-Name. It might go off and accidentally hit somebody. Inthat case I should have to shoot you. I'd hate to waste any lead onyou, and I don't think you're worth the price of a shell."

  For one uncertain moment the stranger sat with revolver pointedtoward Tad, his gaze fixed on Chunky.

  "Don't try any tricks. I can shoot just as quickly as you can, and Iknow I can do it a whole lot straighter. Drop it!"

  The revolver fell to the ground, the man's lower jaw hanging so lowthat Stacy could look into his mouth.

  The fellow twitched slightly at his bridle rein to turn his horseabout, but the move was not lost on the watchful Chunky.

  "Want to lose that horse? If so, just keep on with what you aredoing! That little black spot in his forehead would make a dandymark. After the horse is down I may conclude to decorate yourfeatures, too. Oh, I'm a terror when I get started. I'm not startedyet. You may think I am, but I'm not. This is just a preliminaryskirmish, as the Professor would say. When the real sortie beginsthe air will be filled with the yells of the dead and the silence ofthe living."

  Growling under his breath the stranger checked his horse.

  "I'll git you yet, you young whelp!" he threatened.

  "Tut, tut!" warned Stacy. "Such language before an innocent boy likeme? I am amazed. You must have had an awful bad bringing up."

  "Stacy!"

  The boy answered without looking around.

  "Watch him. Don't forget yourself while you are having such apleasant conversation. I shall have to have my horse here," calledTad.

  "Drop it!" yelled the fat boy, swinging his rifle toward the horsemanagain. The latter was tugging at the rifle in his saddle boot. Theman halted instantly.

  "Upon second thought you may pull it out. First turn your back to me,but be slow about it, and after you get the gun from its holster, justlet it fall to the ground with the revolver. I'll talk with you somemore after you have done that. I mean business!"

  The stranger knew that. He was perplexed. That boys should be socool and so ready to defend themselves against an experiencedwoodsman passed his comprehension.

  The horseman drew the rifle all the way out, Stacy warning, "Slower,slower," as the operation proceeded. The horseman's back beingturned to the boy left the man at a disadvantage, and he did not dareto attempt a shot, knowing that the boy could fire at least twicebefore he could get into position to shoot once.

  "Let go of it!" commanded Stacy sharply.

  The rifle fell near where the revolver lay. Stacy chuckled audibly.

  "Shall I give him the run, Tad? I have pulled his fangs. He can't dous any harm now," proclaimed Chunky.

  "No," Tad rejoined quietly.

  "What shall we do with him, then?"

  "I want to have a talk with the fellow when I have finished my job.You hold him right where he is, old boy."

  "Oh, I'll hold him all right. I'm keeping my eyes on a spot rightbehind his left ear. It's the prettiest mark you ever saw."

  Tad grinned appreciatively. He was proud of Stacy Brown, for Stacyhad distinguished himself and shown his pluck beyond any doubt.

  The boy, tugging at the deer, finally succeeded in getting it to theback of his horse, where he lashed the carcass, the stranger watchingthe operation out of the corners of his eyes, and admitted to himselfthat he had made a mistake in his reckonings. Tad knew his business.The fellow could see that. The fat boy knew his business, too, asearlier events had demonstrated, and to the undoing of the woodsman.

  "There, I guess the carcass will stay on until we get home. I hopewe make it before dark," exclaimed Tad as he completed his task.

  "What about the man?" inquired Stacy.

  "Keep him covered until I tell you to let go."

  Butler gathered up the man's revolver and rifle, from both of whichhe extracted the shells. Handing the latter to the fellow, hedirected him to put the shells in his pocket.

  Next Tad handed the man his weapons.

  "Put them away and don't you dare to load them until you are at leasta mile from here."

  "Look here, what are you doing?" cried Chunky.

  "I am returning his property," answered Tad.

  "Here I go and draw the animal's fangs, then you go stick them backagain! Why, he'll be shooting at us before he gets out of sight,"protested the fat boy.

  "I wouldn't turn a man into this swamp unarmed, Stacy. It might besending him to his death."

  "Serve him right," grunted young Brown.

  "Chunky, I am amazed at you," rebuked Tad.

  In the meantime the stranger with a look of puzzled amazement on hisface was stowing away his weapons, gazing perplexedly at Tad Butler.

  "Now, my man, I don't know who you are; I don't care who you are. ButI hope you will have learned a lesson and that you will leave us aloneafter this. Do you know Bill Lilly?"

  The stranger flushed again. Tad saw that the fellow did.

  "Then you know that Mr. Lilly won't stand for any such doings asyours. I reckon if he had been in my place he wouldn't have let youoff quite so easy, and if you bother us further I shan't, either.Now, sir, I want you to head your horse straight west. Ride until youget tired of riding, but don't make the mistake of thinking that youcan come back and catch us napping. We shall be on the watch foryou."

  "Yes, you had better not come back," interjected Stacy Brown. "Thisgun might get unmanageable. You don't know what a terror it is whenit gets on a rampage."

  "I guess that is about all I have to say to you," continued Butler."Except that I shall tell Mr. Lilly. He may take a notion to followyou and call you to account. However, I think you have been punishedenough. Now get out of here as fast as you can ride."

  "I'll be even with you, you young cubs!" shouted the angry voice ofthe stranger as he rode away.

  "Shall I wing him, Tad?" yelled Stacy.

  "Certainly not," rebuked Butler. "What right or reason have you todo it?"

  "I--I told you he would strike when you put his fangs back in his jaw.He will be after us again, mind what I tell you," predicted Chunky.

  "We don't care. We have our deer," answered Tad with a good-humoredsmile. "But don't you think it is time we were getting back? Weshall be caught out after dark if we don't hurry."

  Chunky agreed, so the boys started back over the trail, castingfrequent glances to the rear, for Tad really believed that the doethief would try to creep up on them and take his revenge. For thatreason Butler carried his rifle across the saddle in front of him,ready for instant action.

  "Here, here, we've forgotten something," cried Chunky after they hadbeen going on for twenty minutes.

  "What have we forgotten?"

  "To eat."

  "Oh, pooh! We can wait until we get to camp."

  "We can do nothing of the sort! I can't wait another minute. I'm sohungry that my works are rattling around inside of me like the dishesin a pantry when a mad cat is let loose among them."

  "You have food in your saddle bags," reminded Tad.

  "But I want something warm."

  "You may get it if you stop," warned Butler suggestively. "Take anibble and let it go at that. When we get home we shall have somevenison steak. How would that strike you?"

  "Don't aggravate me," groaned the fat boy, rolling his eyes.

  "Anyone would think you were going to throw a fit the way you rollyour eyes and show the whites," laughed Tad.

  "I shall throw one if you say any more about venison steak."

  "All right. I won't find any further fault with you. I am proud ofyou, Chunky. I take back all the disagreeable things I have saidabout you. You are a plucky boy."

  "Yes, I reckon I am about the bravest man that ever tackled wildbeasts in the canebrake," agreed the fat boy. "What are you thinkingabout?"

  "I was wondering," answered Tad reflectively
. "It seems to me thatthere is something more to this affair than I first thought. Why didthat man steal the doe, Chunky?"

  "'Cause he wanted it. Ask me something harder."

  "I don't believe that was wholly the case."

  Chunky cocked an inquiring eye.

  "What do you think?" he demanded.

  "I don't know as I think at all," laughed Butler.

  "I thought not. You are always looking for something. I wish I hadyour imagination."

  "What would you do with it?"

  "Think up trouble that couldn't happen at all. But you see I couldimagine it was going to happen, and get just as much excitement outof it as if it really had. It would be a whole lot safer, too."

  "I agree with you," answered Tad, tilting back his head and laughingheartily.

  Tad rode watching the trail with keen eyes. He had no difficulty infollowing it, but he saw that night would be upon them before theyreached the camp, which would then make their progress slower andmuch more uncertain. Stacy was not worrying. He was not given toworrying until face to face with an emergency--and not always then.

  Twilight settled over the swamp and the canebrake, and the barredowls began their wild hoots and weird croakings, sounds that alwaysmade the fat boy shiver. He said it gave him "crinkles" up and downhis back. He told that to Tad, and asked permission to wind the horn.

  "I hardly think that would be prudent. If our late enemy shouldchance to be following us it would give him a pretty good line on us,wouldn't it?"

  "Gracious! I hadn't thought of that. Do you suppose he is on ourtrack?"

  "I hardly think so. Still, he may be. We are not traveling fast,you know, while he, being light, can overtake us easily if he wantsto."

  "I reckon he has had enough of the Pony Rider Boys," averred Stacy."He knows he'd be hurt if he got too familiar with us. You ought tohave let me fan him a little while I had the chance."

  "No. I am amazed that you should think of such a thing. But I amsure you don't mean it."

  "I _do_ mean it. You bet I mean it."

  "You are not a safe person to be at large."

  "Neither is he," retorted Stacy.

  "I give up," laughed Tad. "There is no such thing as having the lastword in an argument with you."

  "Of course there isn't. That's what my aunt says, so she uses astick. I can't answer that in the same way."

  Tad halted to search for some torch wood. He found some after pokingaround in the dark for nearly half an hour. Some of the wood he gaveto Stacy, and lighted a torch for himself. The torch flared up,sending ghostly shadows through the forest, causing the owls to breakout in a chorus of angry protest.

  Tad was now able to see the trail, though the light made the traildeceiving, requiring the utmost caution in following it. Once off thetrail, the boy knew that they would be obliged to spend the night inthe swamp or the canebrake, for to move about would be to get fartherinto the depths of the forest.

  Stacy grumbled at their slow progress, but Tad's patience was thepatience of the experienced woodsman who moved slowly, observingeverything about him, listening to all sounds, thinking of everythingthat a woodsman in the depth of the forest should think of.

  It was about nine o'clock in the evening when Tad halted and held upone hand.

  "What is it?" whispered Chunky.

  "I thought I heard a horn."

  "Yes, there it goes," cried Stacy.

  The winding horn was a long way off. None but the keenest of earscould have caught the sound.

  "Answer them," nodded Butler.

  Stacy did. He wound the horn until he was red in the face. Tad hadto stop him in order that he might listen for the other horn. Heheard it again. They now knew that their companions were out lookingfor them.

  It was about this time that Lilly discovered the four-sided blaze.He read its message instantly. Then he caught the sound of Stacy'sanswering horn.

  "They are getting near. They will be here soon," announced the guidein a relieved tone.

  "I told you, you couldn't lose Tad Butler," cried Ned Rector. "No,not even in the canebrake."