CHAPTER XVII.

  FOUND AND LOST.

  The boys went cautiously forward among the obstructing trees, and soonreached the end of the loggers' house. There was probably a hot fireinside, for the window was raised several inches to admit fresh air. Thesill was not high from the ground, and the boys ventured to peep in.

  They saw banks on two sides of the room. At the far end was a red-hotstove. At the end nearest the window was a long table. Around this sathalf a score of burly, rough-looking men. All were smoking pipes butone.

  The exception was a tall, muscular fellow of about forty. His face wascovered with a stubbly red beard, and its expression was crafty andbrutal. Before him were a plate of food and a mug of coffee. He waseating and drinking in the greedy fashion of a hungry pig.

  The boys looked on for several minutes. They were too deeply interestedto be prudent. But, fortunately, none of the loggers glanced toward thewindow.

  All at once Hamp clutched Jerry's arm in a strong, excited grip.

  "Look!" he whispered. "Over there are our sleds, against the wall."

  "I see them," replied Jerry. "Hush! don't make any noise. I want tohear what they are talking about."

  The boys put their heads closer together. They looked and listened. Theconversation had been low and unintelligible. Now it suddenly rose to ahigher pitch.

  "Whar've you been all this time, Sparwick?" demanded a red-shirtedlogger at the head of the table, who seemed to be a leader among hiscompanions. "I reckoned you wasn't in this part of the country."

  "I reckoned he was in jail," cried the man next him, with a loud guffaw,and general laughter followed.

  The red-bearded man, who was eating, lifted his face from the plate, andscowled angrily.

  "I didn't come here ter be insulted, Thomson," he replied, addressingthe first speaker. "I've been workin' with Bill Jordan's loggin' gang upat the head of Chesumcook. I'm goin' down ter Bangor now fur a spell."

  "Yer seem ter hev kinder struck it rich," pursued Thomson. "Two sledsan' a lot of truck!"

  "I borrowed 'em up at the camp," said Sparwick, carelessly. "I've gotspruce gum packed under the blankets. I oughter realize on it purtyhandsome."

  He glanced at the sleds; then tilted his chair back.

  "Much obliged fur the grub," he added. "I reckon I'll take a sleep now,so's ter pull out at daybreak."

  "Look here, Kyle Sparwick," said Thomson. "We happen ter need an extryhand badly. Can't you stay a day or two?"

  Sparwick pulled at his short beard.

  "I'm afeard not," he replied, slowly. "I've got pressin' business downat----"

  Bang! the window came down with a crash as Jerry's fingers knocked theplug of wood from under it. The frightened boys jumped back. They heardexcited shouts and cries inside.

  "Come on," exclaimed Hamp. "We must face the music. I think we're sureof square treatment."

  He led his companions around the angle of the house. Just as theyreached the door it was flung open by a noisy crowd of loggers.

  The boys were dragged inside, and clamored at by a dozen indignantvoices. They tried vainly to explain. Finally Thomson restored asemblance of order, and quieted the mob.

  "Now, what does this here mean?" he demanded. "You chaps were sneakin'an' spyin' outside that winder. Don't deny it."

  "We didn't mean any harm," stoutly protested Jerry. "We can explain ouractions. We came here after our sleds. There they are in the corner, andthat's the man who stole them from us three hours ago."

  He singled out Sparwick from the crowd, and pointed at him.

  The detected thief was in a tight place, but he was not prepared to giveup. He made a bold attempt at bluffing.

  "Them sleds are mine," he cried. "I'll wring yer neck, you young liar."

  He sprang forward, and seized Jerry by the collar. He lifted him clearoff his feet, and swung him in air.

  A chorus of indignant cries rang out. There was a rush from all sides.

  "Drop the youngster," yelled Thomson; and when Sparwick refused toobey, he struck him forcibly on the arm.

  Jerry dropped to the floor, and quickly regained his feet.

  "I'm telling the truth," he cried, huskily. "Those are our sleds. I candescribe every article on them."

  The ruffian made another rush at the lad, but was jerked back. Theloggers seemed to be against Sparwick to a man. Evidently they knew hisreputation.

  "Sit down thar," commanded Thomson, pointing to a chair. "An' don't yermake no sneak fur the door. We'll get to the bottom of this affair. Now,youngsters, spin your yarn."

  The boys needed no second bidding. They spoke by turns, and gave a clearand convincing account of their unpleasant adventure. They did notforget to describe the thrilling slaughter of the deer. This part of thenarrative caused the loggers to open their eyes and stareincredulously. They slapped their horny hands against their knees.

  "That chap tells a heap what ain't true," said Sparwick, when Jerryhad finished the concluding part of the tale. "I found the sleds,an' reckoned their owners had lost 'em. As fur me shootin' at thelads--why, that's the biggest lie of all. I never laid eyes on 'emuntil now."

  But no one seemed to believe the rascal. Indeed, they heaped him withugly names, and made not a few unpleasant threats. Thomson interfered inbehalf of peace.

  "Everybody knows that Kyle Sparwick can't keep his hands off otherpeople's property," he said. "He's seen the inside of more'n one jail.Thar's where he oughter go this time, only I reckon no one's goin' tertake him down ter Bangor. Now, I've got a propersition ter make-pervided it suits these youngsters. If Kyle Sparwick will agree ter doa week's work here we won't prosecute him."

  This suggestion was approved.

  "What's yer answer, prisoner?" demanded Thomson.

  "I reckon it's yes," muttered Sparwick.

  He added something in an undertone as his evil eyes glanced at the boys.

  "Then the thing's settled," said Thomson. "You can tuck yerself intothat bunk yonder just as soon as you please. And now about that kill ofdeer. We ain't had any fresh meat fur quiet a spell, an' I reckon it'lltaste good. Here's a propersition for you, youngsters. We'll bring thevenison to camp, an' give you all you kin carry. The rest we'll keep furour trouble. How's that?"

  The boys gladly assented, and ten minutes later half-a-dozen of theloggers started for the distant spot. They took with them lanterns, anda long hand-sled. There was no time to lose, for wolves were likely toscent the meat.

  Thomson stayed behind and made himself agreeable to the young visitors.He soon knew all about them, and when he heard they were going toChesumcook Lake, he gave them some valuable information about thelocality.

  Then he instructed the cook to prepare a warm supper, of which the boysate greedily.

  It was now close to midnight, and they eagerly took possession of thecozy bunks that were assigned to them. The last thing they remembered,before losing consciousness, was Kyle Sparwick's sleeping figure inanother bunk across the room.

  Banging and rattling of dishes; clattering footsteps; angry voices andshouts--this was what roused the boys after what seemed to them but afew minutes' sleep.

  They tumbled out of bed, and rubbed their eyes. At first they did notknow what to make of the confusion. The misty light of dawn wasstruggling with the red glow from the cook's stove. The loggers were up,and clustered together at one side of the room. They were clamoring, andgesticulating, and uttering tremendous threats and oaths.

  "Hello, youngsters!" cried Thomson. "Hev you heard the news? Thatconsarned slippery cuss is gone. We might a-knowed better than to putany trust in Kyle Sparwick."

  "How did he get away?" asked Jerry.

  "Dunno. He must a-skipped off as soon as we wus all asleep--long abouttwo o'clock. He made a dummy outen a blanket, and an old hat, an' stuckit in his bunk. There was a lamp burnin' dim on the table, too."

  "I mind hearin' a noise," said a logger named Tommy Bobb; "bu
t I was toosleepy to do more'n sing out, 'Who's thar.'"

  "You must a-skeered him," declared Thomson, "an' that's why he didn'ttake nothing with him--not even his own gun. Thar it rests on the hook."

  "He took something better than a gun," exclaimed Brick, who hadmeanwhile been examining his pocket. "He took my gold watch, and a pursewith thirty dollars in it. I had some more money in a belt, but that'sall right."

  This declaration caused a renewal of the excitement. The loggerssympathized with Brick, and offered him rude consolation.

  "How about you fellers?" asked Tommy Bobb of Hamp and Jerry.

  They shook their heads and smiled. The contents of their pockets wouldhave offered no temptation to the meanest sort of a thief.

  "I don't mind the money," said Brick; "but I hate to lose the watch. I'mgoing after that sneaking rascal."

  "No use, youngster," assured Thomson. "Sparwick has a big start. He tookan old boat what we had here, an' went down the Mallowgash. He'd haveclear water fur four miles. Then I reckon he'd strike deep inter thewoods. If thar was a chance of gettin' him we'd make up a party. How'sthat, boys?"

  "Dead right," exclaimed the loggers, in chorus.

  Brick accepted this as final. He was anxious to start for the lake,however, and so were Hamp and Jerry.

  But just when breakfast was over the party returned with the dead deerand the wildcat. This caused a delay. As soon as possible the deer wereskinned and cut up, and the meat divided. The boys were given all theycould carry.

  Between eight and nine o'clock they were ready to start. They partedwith the friendly loggers, and tramped briskly across the clearing.

  "I say, youngsters," Thomson yelled after them, "if you should runacrost that sneakin' Sparwick, jest show a bold front, an' you'll havehim. He's a coward at heart, an' hates a gun barrel worse than pisen."