The Boy Ranchers of Puget Sound

  CHAPTER XV

  A MIDNIGHT VISITOR

  It was getting dark when the boys retired to their room, in which twobeds were standing at opposite corners. Harry chose the one nearest thedoor, and they left the window open. The room was, as usual in suchplaces, very scantily furnished, but it appeared very comfortable aftertheir camps in the dripping bush, and Frank found it a luxury to get hisclothes off and lie down upon a comparatively soft mattress.

  A draught blew in at intervals through the window, and the door, whichwould not shut, swung to and fro. It was raining as hard as ever, forFrank could hear a muffled roar upon the shingled roof, and the pinesoutside were wailing dolefully. He soon went to sleep, however, but wasawakened later by the sound of voices and a soft patter of feet below.The rain seemed to have stopped at last, though he could hear a heavysplashing from the branches of the firs close by, and he fancied thatthe Chinamen must be starting. There was, however, no sign of morningwhen he glanced toward the window, which showed only as a faintlylighter square in the surrounding obscurity. In fact, it seemedunusually dark, which struck him as curious, since there was a moon, butthe hotel stood in a valley shrouded by giant trees and he supposed thatthe sky was thick with cloud.

  He heard the voices grow fainter and the footsteps gradually recedeuntil they were lost in the moaning of the pines, and he felt that hedid not envy the Chinamen their journey. He wondered why they had notwaited until sunrise before starting, and then remembered that a rancherhe had met had told him that a trail led out of the settlement for somedistance. He supposed it would be light before the Chinamen should reachthe end of it and plunge into the forest. About a quarter of an hour hadslipped away when, lying half asleep, he thought that he heard some onein the room. He could see nothing but the window, and could hear littleelse than the sound of the wind among the trees, but raising himselfvery cautiously on one elbow he distinctly heard a faint sound thatsuggested a stealthy movement. This seemed very curious, for he feltalmost certain that if his companion had had any idea of trying to findout something about the Chinamen he would have told him, besides which,the Chinamen had gone.

  While he lay still listening with tingling nerves there was a softscraping and presently a very pale blue flame broke out, showing ashadowy figure in a loose robe bending over Harry's bed with a light inits hand. Frank did not pause to consider what the stranger's intentionsmight be, but reached for his boot, which was a heavy one, and flung itwith all his might at the shadowy object's head. It struck the boardedwall with a startling crash, the light suddenly went out, and he sprangfrom his bed in the darkness with a cry of "Harry!"

  "Well," said his companion drowsily, "what's the matter?"

  "Where's the Chinaman?" shouted Frank, darting toward the door.

  He ran out into a passage with Harry blundering half awake behind him,and noticed that there was an open window near the door which had beenshut when he had last seen it. On reaching it he espied what seemed tobe the roof of a low outbuilding not far below, but there was verylittle else to be seen except the loom of the dusky pines which werebeginning to stand out against the sky. Then he heard a rush ofpattering feet and a yelp on the stairway close by, and a furry bodyflung itself against his knee. He recognized the dog, who almostimmediately darted into the room. It came out again, sprang to thewindow ledge, and bounded to the roof beneath. He heard a soft thud onthe shingles and a bark that sounded farther off, and then for a momentor two there was silence again.

  It was broken by the sound of a door flung open, and Mr. Barclay camealong the passage very lightly dressed, with a lamp in his hand. Tellingthem to follow, he walked into the boys' room, and placed the lamp on abureau before he sat down on the nearest bed.

  "Now," he asked, "what's the cause of this commotion?"

  "I don't know," said Harry. "Perhaps Frank can tell you. He seems tohave been throwing his boots about."

  Frank, a little nettled, narrated what he had seen. Mr. Barclay smiled.

  "You say the man was standing by Harry's bed," he observed. "Did younotice if he had a big knife in his hand?"

  "He'd nothing but a match," Frank answered shortly.

  "Now that's curious," said Mr. Barclay. "Do you suppose he meant to setthe bed on fire, or have you any idea what he was doing?"

  Frank heard a slight sound and looking around saw Mr. Oliver standing inthe doorway, while just then a shout came down the passage, apparentlyfrom the hotelkeeper.

  "What's the trouble? Is there anything wrong?"

  "We're trying to find out," Mr. Barclay replied. "It doesn't seem to beserious, anyway."

  "Then I'll put a few clothes on before I come along," said the voice,and a door banged.

  "He seemed to be looking down at Harry's face," said Frank, who sawthat Mr. Barclay was waiting an answer.

  Mr. Barclay now turned and favored Harry with a critical gaze.

  "I can't understand what the fellow wanted to do that for." Then hesmiled back at Frank. "These are decadent days. He wouldn't have gotaway with his scalp on if he'd come creeping into the room of the Jamesboys."

  Harry flushed. "I suppose you mean to hint that Frank imagined it all,sir? Well, he told you the man struck a match, and though sulphurmatches don't give much light they make a considerable smell. Do younotice any particular odor in this room?" Then he stooped suddenly andpicked up a half-burned match. "What do you make of this? I haven'tstruck one."

  Mr. Barclay examined the match with an abstracted expression, and whilehe did so the dog pattered into the room wagging his tail in adeprecatory manner, as if to excuse himself for not overtaking theintruder. He jumped distractedly around the boys for a moment and thencrouched down upon the floor with a short length of broken cord trailingfrom his collar. Mr. Oliver pointed to it with an amused smile.

  "It seems to me the dog must have imagined something of the same kind asFrank did," he observed.

  By this time the hotelkeeper arrived and gazed on with astonishmentwhile Mr. Barclay briefly explained the cause of the commotion.

  "I've never heard anything like this since I've been in the place," hedeclared. "The Chinamen are out on the trail now. Better see if you havelost anything."

  The couple of dollars that Frank had brought with him proved to be stillin his pocket, and Harry fished out the dollar which belonged to him.His cheap watch was safe beneath his pillow, and Frank declared that hehad left his silver one at the ranch. This appeared to make the mattermore inexplicable to the hotelkeeper.

  "If the fellow had gone off with something, I could have understood it,"he said in a puzzled way.

  "It's most likely that Frank saw him almost immediately after he camein," said Mr. Oliver. "As he pitched his boot at him, the man wasprobably startled and got out without wasting any time in looking round.Then the dog broke loose and went after him."

  The hotelkeeper agreed with this and shortly afterward Mr. Oliver,telling the boys not to trouble themselves any further about the matter,followed him out with Mr. Barclay. They turned into the latter's room,where Mr. Oliver sat down.

  "I imagine that Frank's notion is correct," he said. "As Harry told you,he and Frank once paid a visit to the Chinese camp near our ranch wherehe saw the man with the high shoulder and followed him to a shack fromwhich he disappeared. If the Chinaman who crept into the room chanced tohave been about the camp when the boys were there, it's quite possiblethat he did wish to see Harry's face."

  "That," Mr. Barclay admitted, "is my own opinion, though it seemed wisernot to impress it on the boys. I don't suppose you want them to get tomaking any investigations on their own account?"

  "No," rejoined Mr. Oliver. "On the other hand, they've taken a certainpart in the matter already. In fact, it might have been better if I'dleft them behind. The trouble is that if the Chinaman recognized Harryit would probably give him some idea as to why we made this visit."

  Mr. Barclay nodded his head. "Yes," he said. "It's a pity, but, afterall, I'm rather glad I made this trip. It'
s going to prove worth while."

  Nothing further was said on the subject and silence settled down againon the hotel. There was bright sunshine when the party started with thestage next morning, and after spending the night at a little collierytown they took the train south. Getting off at a small station theyfound the sloop safe in the cove where they had left her. Mr. Barclay,however, went on with the peltries to Victoria, which was not far away,and there managed to dispose of them, after which he hired a horse androde back to the inlet. They set sail as soon as he arrived, and aftertwo days of light winds duly reached the cove near the ranch.

  A few months slipped by peacefully. The smugglers showed no sign offurther activity, and Mr. Oliver got his oat crop in undisturbed. Oneway or another he kept the boys busy from morning until night, but atlast when the maple leaves were beginning to turn he told them to taketheir rifles and go hunting, and they set off one morning afterbreakfast.

  It was a still, clear morning, and now that the fall was drawing onthere was a change in the bush. Here and there a maple leaf caught a rayof sunshine and burned like a crimson lamp, the fern was growing yellow,and the undergrowth was splashed and spattered with flecks of varyingcolor. Even the light in the openings seemed different. It was at oncesofter and clearer than the glare of summer, and the shadows seemedthinner and bluer than they had been. But there was no difference in thegreat black firs. They lifted their fretted spires high against the sky,as they had done for centuries, and they would remain the same until thewhite man's ax should sweep the wilderness away.

  The boys were floundering waist-deep in withered fern and tangledundergrowth when they heard a rustling and scurrying somewhere neartheir feet, and Harry, breaking off a rotten branch from a fallen fir,hurled it into a neighboring thicket.

  "A fool hen!" he shouted. "Jump round this bush, and try to put it up."

  Frank fell into the thicket in his haste, but he still heard thescurrying in front of him when he scrambled to his feet. He kicked aclump of fern, and there was no doubt that something rushed away fromunderneath it, after which he plunged through the brake with Harry someyards away on one side of him, but there was nothing visible. Theyhunted the unseen creature for what he supposed was about ten minuteswith no better result. Then a plainly colored bird about the size of apigeon rose from almost under his feet and flew to a fir branch sometwenty yards away, where it perched and looked down at its pursuersunconcernedly.

  "It doesn't seem scared now," said Frank in astonishment.

  "It isn't," Harry answered with a laugh. "The thing feels quite safeonce it's on a branch. I guess that's why it's called the fool hen,though its proper name is the willow grouse. Walk up and try a shot atit--only you must cut its head off."

  Frank crept up nearer with a caution which was wholly unnecessary, forthe bird did not seem to mind him in the least when he stopped closebeneath it and pitched his rifle to his shoulder, but as he gazed at itover the half-moon of the rearsight it seemed to him that its neck wasexceedingly small. He could not keep the forebead fixed on it, andbringing the rifle down he rested before he tried it again. Then he feltthe butt thump his shoulder and the barrel jerk, and a little wisp ofsmoke drifted across his eyes and hung about the bushes. When itcleared, the grouse, to his astonishment, was sitting on the branch ascalmly as ever.

  "It likes it," said Harry. "Try again--only at its neck."

  Trying again, Frank succeeded in inducing the bird to move to aneighboring branch, after which he braced himself with desperatedetermination for the third attempt. This time the jar upon his shoulderwas followed by a soft thud, and he understood why he had been warnedto shoot only at its neck when he picked up his victim. The big .44bullet had horribly shattered it.

  "Could _you_ have shot its head off?" he asked after he had thrown itdown in disgust.

  "Why, yes," said Harry. "Anyway, I can generally manage it if the thingsits still. Most of the bush ranchers could do it every time."

  He made this good presently when they found another bird, for it droppedat his first shot without its head. Half an hour later they saw a bluegrouse perched rather high up in a cedar.

  "This fellow won't sit to be fired at," Harry explained. "Better try itkneeling where you are, if you can get the foresight up enough."

  Frank knelt with his right foot tucked under him and his left elbow onhis knee. It steadied the rifle considerably, but he had to cramphimself a little to raise the muzzle. Holding his breath he squeezed thetrigger when a part of the bird filled up the curve of the rearsight,but he was mildly astonished when Harry walked toward him with thegrouse in his hand.

  "I guess this one could be cooked," he said dubiously. "We'll take italong."

  Frank surveyed his victim with a thrill of pride. It was larger than thewillow grouse. In fact, it seemed to him a remarkably big and handsomebird in spite of the hole in it, and he thrust it into the flour bag onhis back with unalloyed satisfaction.

  "Is this the thing that makes the drumming in the spring?" he asked.

  Harry said that it was, and they scrambled through the bush for a coupleof hours without seeing anything further, until they approached a swampyhollow with a steep hillside over which the undergrowth hung unusuallythick.

  "There ought to be a black bear yonder; they like the wild cabbage,"said Harry. "We'll try to crawl in. It's a pity there isn't a littlewind ahead of us."

  They spent half an hour over the operation, and Frank realized thattrailing had its drawbacks when he found that it entailed burrowingamong thorny thickets and crawling across quaggy places on his hands andknees. In spite of his caution sticks would snap and it seemed to hisstrung-up imagination that he was making a prodigious noise. At last,however, there was another sound some distance in front of him whichsuddenly became louder.

  "A bear, sure," cried Harry excitedly. "Going off up hill. Shoot if youcan see it."

  Frank gazed intently ahead, but could see absolutely nothing, though hecould hear a smashing and crashing which presently died away again onthe slope. Then Harry brought down his rifle and turned away.

  "You can generally hear a black bear," he said. "He goes straight andrips right through the things a deer would jump. He's a kind of harmlessbeast, anyway."

  "Could we find a deer?" Frank asked, his hopes still high.

  "We'll try when we've had dinner," replied his companion. "I haven'tseen any lately, though that doesn't count for much, because it would bepossible not to notice one if the woods were full of them. Still, theyseem to have a way of clearing right out of the country every now andthen for no particular reason. The bear and the timber wolves do thesame thing."

  They ate their dinner sitting among the roots of a big cedar, while agorgeous green and red woodpecker climbed about a neighboring trunk.Then Harry stood up and shouldered his rifle.

  "After this we'll leave the birds alone," he announced. "You don't wantto make a noise when you're trailing deer."