CHAPTER XV "SHOOTIN' IRONS"
As Red Rodgers followed the girl in the dark over the narrow trail thatled away from the dock where they had discovered mysterious footprints inthe snow, he found himself climbing what seemed to him an almostperpendicular wall. Here he stumbled over a boulder, there slipped on astretch of earth that appeared to stand on end, and here found himselfclawing madly in air for some form of hand-hold. That the girl knew thetrail well enough became evident at once. She reached the crest of theridge far in advance of him.
"Here! Give me your hand," she breathed as he came up. "It's not so steepon this side. Almost not steep at all."
Red heaved a sigh of relief, then prepared to follow on.
The trail was much longer on this side. It seemed strange, this prowlingabout in the darkness on an island he knew only by name.
As his eyes became more accustomed to the darkness he made out vagueblack bulks to the right and to the left. "Trees," he told himself.
When one of these black bulks let out a low grunt and vanished into thenight, he stopped short.
"Moose," the girl said in a low tone. "All over the island. Like thebears of Yellowstone. That was probably old Uncle Ned."
"Uncle Ned?"
"I'll tell you about him some time," she whispered.
Dense darkness lay before them. The girl plunged into this darkness, theshadow of a narrow stretch of forest.
Red's ears caught the low murmur of water; his gaze fell upon the whitegleam of light upon the water.
"We--we'll go to the left. Lots of places there to hide." Once again thegirl led the way, but not for long. Suddenly she stopped dead in hertracks to whisper:
"See! A light!"
As Red looked he caught a yellow gleam that came filtering through thebranches.
"Wha--what shall we do now?" For the first time the girl appeared at herwits' end.
"That light comes from a cabin." Red tried to think the thing outstraight. "Might be best to try for a look. Then we'll know what we're upagainst, at least."
Except to give him her hand the girl made no reply.
Slowly now, with pulses pounding, they made their way forward.
To the left of the trail they saw a white bulk, a cabin. They passedanother. Then suddenly he dragged the girl from the trail. An unexpectedsound had reached his ears, a dog's bark.
"A dog!" Berley Todd shuddered. "Why would they bring a dog in theplane?"
"To track us. No wonder they were so sure we wouldn't get away!"
"But listen! That dog's inside. Let's go back while there's a chance."
"It can't be ten steps farther. I'm for a look. You--you stay here."
"Not alone." She gripped his arm hard. "I--I'll go." It was she who lednow.
A dozen paces more and they stood within sight of the window throughwhich the light shone. And then a tall man, who was just in the act ofremoving a ten gallon hat, moved in front of the light.
"Oh! It's Ed!"
There was a melodious ring in the girl's voice that told plainer thanwords that they had found a friend.
"Ed who? Who's Ed?" Red was puzzled by this fresh turn of affairs.
"Just Ed. A scout. He has a camp on the island in summer. Always beforehe left with the rest. But now he's here, and I'm glad!" There was a ringof pure joy in her voice. "Now--now we are three, three of us and a dog.Come on!" She dragged him forward. "Come on before he turns that dogloose!"
As Berley flashed the light for an instant the boy read, above the door:
TRAILSIDE.
He wondered what that stood for. There was no time now for talk. Berley'shard little knuckles had made contact with the door.
The next instant they stood blinking in the light that came from thecabin. Before them, holding his dog by the collar, was a tall, well-builtman whose graying hair said he might be forty. His face, though seamedand tanned from constant exposure, bore the touch of eternal youth, aheritage of those who spend their lives in wild and silent places.
For a space of seconds he stared at them. Then his face lighted with asmile as he exclaimed:
"Why! It's the little half-portion, Berley Todd! Put her there!" Heextended a brawny brown hand.
Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he drew back and stared.
"But--but what are you doing here at this time?"
"Came by plane," Berley explained with a laugh. "Didn't you hear usarrive?"
"N-no." The look on the guide's face was strange to see.
"You wouldn't of course. We came in the night.
"And this--" She pushed her companion forward. "This is the Red Rover.You've heard of him, haven't you? The famous football star, the RedRover?"
"Y-e-s?" The guide continued to stare. It was plain that he believedlittle of that which he had just heard. And who could blame him? Whatchance was there that the most famous football star of the season shouldgo off into a wilderness in an airplane a few days before the big game ofthe year?
"It's cold. We--we'd like to come in," the girl pleaded.
The scout stared for ten seconds, then exclaimed:
"Beg pardon! Been a long time since any one was here. Didn't expect tosee a soul until spring. Come in. Got a big kettle of Mulligan stew onthe stove. Big feed, what?"
"Can't be too big for us!" said Berley, closing the door and, to thescout's bewilderment, turning the key in the lock, as she said quitecalmly: "I'd like to pull the shades if you don't mind."
"Why, yes. Just pull 'em right down." The scout stared afresh.
"You see," explained "the little half-portion," dropping into a chair,"Red, here, and I ran away. We--we don't want any one to know we arehere. Not a soul--except, of course, you."
"Thanks for the compliment, Miss. But I assure you there'll not be a soulhere until spring. Do you plan to stay that long?"
The muscles of Berley's mouth were twitching desperately. It was greatfun, this posing as the stolen bride of a famous football star, butbottling up her mirth was quite another matter.
"Why--why, we--" She tried hard to steady her voice. "We--we haven't madeany definite plans, have we?" She turned to Red. Then, as if a secondthought had taken possession of her, she demanded:
"Red, what did you do to that plane when you left me out on the raft atthe back of Tobin's Harbor?"
"I took the breaker assemblies out of their magnetos."
"Whatever that means." She wrinkled her brow in a peculiar way.
"It means," Red measured his words, "that they will have to send to thefactory for parts before they can fly; in other words, that they can'tleave the island."
"That makes it bad." Berley seemed worried.
"For them."
"For us. They'll be after us night and day to get those parts back.They'll not leave a stone unturned. If we leave the island before theydo, they are trapped here. Even if they reached the lighthouse no onewould aid them."
"And the officers will come here after them." Red went on where she leftoff. "My old friend, Drew Lane, will be here in his red racer. Grandcoup, I call it! A bit hazardous, but what is life but a series ofexciting adventures? If you can make those adventures count for good, whythat's fine and dandy, I'd say."
"It is." Beaming, Berley put out her hand.
Then, turning to the puzzled scout, she exclaimed: "Ed, you've got us allwrong. We haven't eloped. We've been kidnaped, one at a time, and haveescaped together. Now Red has got to get back to the gridiron forSaturday's game and I to the bleachers. You are elected to help us. Youmay get shot and all that, but you've got to come along. You've beendrafted."
Understanding very little of all this, but game to the last, the scoutthrew open a cupboard to drag down two huge pistols.
"Then," he said solemnly, "it's shootin' irons. Inherited them from mydad. Never had much use for 'em except to take a crack at a prowlin'coyote now and then, but I reckon I can hit a tin can at fifty yardsmig
hty nigh every pop. And that's good enough for coarse work. I'm withyou, little half-portion, with you to the end." Then, as if she were achild, he seized her about the waist and bumped her head against theceiling.
"Mulligan's done," he announced a moment later. "What am I really draftedinto? You'll tell me that, won't you, over the Mulligan stew and coffee?"