ANOTHER HUNT, AND HOW IT ENDED.
Jack had one day been surveying a piece of land a few miles east of Long Woods. It was not very late in the afternoon when he finished his work; and he found that, by going a little out of his way and driving rather fast, he could, before night, make Vinnie and her friends a call, and perhaps give Mrs. Wiggett the promised noon-mark on her kitchen floor.
Leaving in due time the more travelled thoroughfare, he turned off upon the neighborhood road, which he knew passed through the woods and struck the river road near Betterson's house. Away on his left lay the rolling prairie, over a crest of which he, on a memorable occasion, saw Snowfoot disappear with his strange rider; and he was fast approaching the scene of his famous deer-hunt.
Jack had his gun with him; and, though he did not stop to give much attention to the prairie hens which now and then ran skulkingly across the track, or flew up from beside his buggy-wheels, he could not help looking for larger game.
"I'd like to see another doe and fawn feeding off on the prairie there," thought he. "Wonder if I could find some obliging young man to drive them in!"
He whipped up Snowfoot, and presently, riding over a swell of land, discovered a stranger walking on before him in the road.
"No deer or fawn," thought he; "but there's possibly an obliging young man."
As he drove on, fast overtaking the pedestrian, Jack was very much struck by his appearance. He was a slender person; he walked at a loitering pace; and he carried his coat on his arm. There was something also in the jaunty carriage of the head, and in the easy slouch of the hat-brim, which startled Jack.
"I vow, it's my obliging young man himself!" he muttered through his teeth,—"or a vision of him!"
Just then the stranger, hearing the sound of wheels, cast a quick glance over his shoulder. It was the same face, and Jack could almost have taken his oath to the quid in the cheek.
He was greatly astonished and excited. It seemed more like a dream than anything else, that he should again meet with the person who had given him so much trouble, so near the place where he had seen him first, in precisely similar hat and soiled shirt-sleeves, and carrying (to all appearances) the same coat on his arm!
The stranger gave no sign of the recognition being mutual, but stepped off upon the roadside to let the buggy pass.
"How are you?" said Jack, coming up to him, and drawing rein; while Lion snuffed suspiciously at the rogue's heels.
"All right, stranger; how are you yourself?" And a pair of reckless dark eyes flashed saucily up at Jack.
"Better than I was that night after you ran off with my horse!" Jack replied.
"Glad you're improving. Wife on the mending hand? And how are the little daisies? Which is the road to Halleluia Corners? I branch off here; good day, fair stranger."
These words were rattled off with great volubility, which seemed all the greater because of their surprising irrelevancy; while the head, thrown gayly to one side, balanced the quid in the bulged cheek.
Before Jack could answer, the youth with a wild laugh struck off from the road, and began to walk fast toward the woodland. Jack called after him,—
"Hold on! I want to speak with you!"
"Speak quick, then; I'm bound for the Kingdom,—will you go to glory with me?" the rogue shouted back over his shoulder, with a defiant grin, never slacking his pace.
Jack gave Snowfoot a touch of the whip, reined out of the track, and drove after him.
The fellow at the same time quickened his step to a run, and before he could be overtaken he had come to rough ground, where fast driving was dangerous.
Jack pulled up unwillingly, revolving rapidly in his mind what he should do. Though he had recovered his horse, he felt the strongest desire to have the thief taken and punished. Moreover, he had lately seen the truckman to whom the stolen animal was sold, and had promised to do what he could to help him obtain justice.
He might have levelled his gun and threatened to shoot the fugitive; but he would not have felt justified in carrying out such a threat, and recent experience had disgusted him with the shooting business.
He would have jumped from the wagon, and followed on foot; but, though a good runner, he was convinced that his heels were no match for the stranger's. There was then but one thing to do.
"Stop, or I'll let the dog take you!" Jack yelled.
For reply, the fugitive threw up his hand over his shoulder, with fingers spread and thumb pointing toward the mid-region of countenance occupied by the nose; which did not, however, take the trouble to turn and make itself visible.
Lion was already eager for the chase; and Jack had only to give him a signal.
"Take care of him, Lion!" And away sped the dog.
Fleet of foot as the fellow was, and though he now strained every nerve to get away, the distance between him and the dog rapidly diminished; and a hurried glance behind showed him the swift, black, powerful animal, coming with terrible bounds, and never a bark, hard at his heels.
The thickets were near,—could he reach them before the dog reached him? Would they afford him a refuge or a cudgel? He threw out his quid, and leaned.
Jack drove after as fast as he could, in order to prevent mortal mischief when Lion should bring down his game; for the dog, when too much in earnest with a foe, had an overmastering instinct for searching out the windpipe and jugular vein.
The rogue had reached the edge of the woods, when he found himself so closely pursued that he seemed to have no resource but to turn and dash his coat into the dog's face. That gave him an instant's reprieve; then Lion was upon him again; and he had just time to leap to the low limb of a scraggy oak-tree, and swing his lower limbs free from the ground, when the fierce eyes and red tongue were upon the spot.
Lion gave one leap, but missed his mark; the trap-like jaws snapping together with a sound which could not have been very agreeable to the youth whose dangling legs had been actually grazed by the passing muzzle.
With a wistful, whining yelp, Lion gave another upward spring; and this time his fangs closed upon something—only cloth, fortunately; but as the thief clambered up out of their range, it was with a very good chance for a future patch upon the leg of his trousers.
Leaping from his wagon, Jack rushed to the tree, and found his obliging young man perched comfortably in it, with one leg over a limb; while Lion, below, made up for his long silence by uttering frantic barks.
