THE PUZZLE OF IT ALL
"What d'ye make out of it all, Phil?"
When Ethan asked this question two days had elapsed since they brought the wounded man to the cabin. Much had happened during this time. In the first place Phil had proven himself a splendid amateur surgeon, for he had set the broken bones, and attended to securing splices so that they would be kept in proper position while the mending process continued.
Of course this was somewhat old-fashioned, because a doctor would have set the limb in a plaster cast; but Phil's way promised to answer for all practical purposes.
The man had improved remarkably. He was even cheerful, though at times Phil had seen him shake his head, and could hear him sigh. This was always while he was watching Mazie; and it did not require much to tell the boy that whatever was upon the man's troubled conscience concerned his child.
"It's pretty hard to say, Ethan," he told the other; "I can't make up my mind that's he's any sort of a scamp. His actions tell us that, you know."
"And it's hard for me to believe that any man who loves a child as he does that one of his, can be a bad man," Ethan declared, emphatically.
"Yet you saw how he turned red in the face when I handed him the telegram, and explained how we found it caught under the bow seat of his birch-bark canoe," continued Phil, looking troubled.
"What was it he mumbled at the time; I didn't quite get it?" Ethan asked.
"He admitted," the other explained, "that the message had come to him. He also said that was not his real name, but one assumed for a purpose, of which he was now heartily ashamed."
"That sounds queer, don't you think, Phil?"
"Why, no, I can't say that I do," Ethan was told. "Any of us might do something on the spur of the moment that we found reason to feel sorry for afterwards. Only the other day I bitterly repented of insulting that noble old bull moose by daring to snap my camera at him point-blank, didn't I? He made it pretty warm for me, I tell you."
"But this mysterious man must have done something dreadful, to have him say he was so repentant!" persisted Ethan.
"You're only jumping at conclusions," he was told, bluntly. "I heard him say at the time he was lying there in the pine woods and suffering, that he realized he had done somebody a great wrong, and that if he lived he meant to right it. Now, according to my notion, that was a fine thing for him to say."
"Mebbe so," remarked Ethan. "I've heard my father say that the best men are those who've been through the fire, done some wrong, and repented, so that they think they must spend the rest of their lives making good. And between us I kind of fancy Mazie's daddy. He seems to be a pretty nice man."
"Mazie evidently thinks there isn't another like him in the whole world," Phil told him; "look at her now as she sits there holding his hand. Why, Ethan, believe me, I can see what looks mighty like a tear running down his cheek. Yes, there, he wiped it away, and shook his head. That man's made up his mind to some big sacrifice, you mark my words."
"Then it must be in connection with Mazie," added Ethan, quickly; "because the sun rises and sets with her, in his opinion."
"I wonder now," began Phil, with lines on his forehead, as though a sudden idea had flashed into his mind that he hardly knew how to handle.
"What are you thinking about?" inquired Ethan, who knew the signs.
"But then there's no doubt he's her father, so that could hardly be," Phil went on to say, as though crushing the suspicion that had arisen.
"Well, what about it, Phil?"
"Oh! I just happened to wonder if he could have stolen the child from some one, and had now made up his mind that it was wicked, and she must be returned. But then, how could a father be tempted to steal his own child? I reckon that must have been a silly notion. Let's forget it."
"Like as not we'll never know," Ethan observed, a little provoked, it seemed, on account of not being able to solve the mystery that surrounded Mazie and her "daddy;" for Ethan above all things hated to give a puzzle up as beyond his power.
"Wait and see," the other advised him. "As it is now, he feels under some obligations to the lot of us, and may think we deserve to hear his story before we get him down to civilization again."
"Some obligation?" repeated Ethan. "Well, it's my honest opinion he owes you his life! If you hadn't found him when you did, he'd be dead right now. And then about that job of setting the bones in his leg, you did yourself proud there. It'd be a queer thing, and ungrateful in the bargain, if he said good-by, and never once opened up to explain things."
"It isn't going to bother me a bit," Phil told him.
"Now, is that a hint that I'm foolish to keep it on my mind?" asked Ethan.
"If the shoe fits, put it on," his chum told him. "But one thing sure, he'll never be able to walk on that leg by the time we expect to start home."
"Which I take it means we'll either have to carry him all the way down to the village on that stretcher, if it takes two days; or else one of us go after a team."
"Without any road up here," Phil explained, "it would be a hard job to get horses to the lake. And then the going would be so tough he'd suffer terribly. So as near as I can see it looks as if we'd have to work that stretcher again."
"Huh! I like that!" grunted Ethan, though he must have meant it in sarcasm, for his tone showed anything but enthusiasm. "We all congratulated ourselves on the way up here on the fact that we'd have it easy going out of the woods, because all that canned stuff and other grub would be devoured. And now by jinks! if we don't have to lug a man out. Whee!"
"But there's no other way, Ethan; and you'd be the last fellow to vote to leave him behind, if I know you," ventured Phil.
"Sure, I would, and don't you mind how I grumble every little while, Phil. My grandfather on my mother's side was a whaler, and I guess now I must have inherited his sailor way of growling. I try to cure myself of the habit, but she will break out once in a while. It's harmless, you know; it comes from the mouth but not from the heart."
Phil laughed softly.
"I haven't chummed with you as long as this not to know you like a book, old fellow," he said, affectionately, as he laid a hand on the other's shoulder. "We've had some pretty good times, together with X-Ray Tyson and jolly old Lub; and we hope to enjoy a lot more. Wait till we get down there on Currituck Sound this fall, when the ducks are arriving in flocks. You know I've got the finest little shooting-box located there you ever heard tell of. And, say, perhaps we won't have the grandest time going."
"I hope nothing will keep us from going along with you, that's all," said Ethan, drawing a long breath; for gunning was his one particular hobby, and the prospect of a week or two on those famous ducking-grounds appealed irresistibly to his hunter's heart.
"This has been the hottest day we've struck since we came up here," said X-Ray Tyson just then, as he came sauntering up, wiping his forehead with his big red bandanna.
"Yes, and unless I'm a poor weather prophet," added Phil, taking a look aloft as he spoke, "we're just about due for a whacker of a storm. No leaving my camera out-of-doors this night, I tell you."
"We'll all be glad of a decent roof over our heads, if she comes on to blow and rain great guns," Ethan remarked.
"How about the pictures you were printing a while ago, Phil; turn out well?" asked the last comer.
"See for yourself," he was told, as Phil drew a little book out of his pocket, among the leaves of which he had a number of fresh prints.
"Well, that one of the moose poking his head between the little trees is a jim-dandy, let me tell you!" declared X-Ray Tyson. "Every wrinkle of his hide shows as plain as it could. And say, here's one showing Ethan and me carrying the litter, with Mazie's daddy on the same. I didn't know you snapped that off."
"You've had great luck so far in all your pictures, haven't you, Phil?" Ethan went on to say.
"No complaints from me," he was told; "and I do feel I've been in great luck, as you say. I've got on the track of a fox, and pretty soon I hope to have his smart phiz along with the rest."
"It'll be a prize collection yet, take that from me," X-Ray announced.
"The funny part of it," continued Ethan, "is the fact that while you'll have all these pictures, most of the originals you've never seen. That comes of fixing it so they press the button, and do the flashlight act themselves."
"Saves a heap of trouble," commented X-Ray, sensibly.
"Of course the main thing is," Phil went on to say, "that you couldn't get that class of Animated Nature picture in any other way. I'd hate to stick it out all night, waiting for Mr. 'Possum or Br'er Rabbit to breeze along, so I could flash him. Besides, the most wary of all, Br'er Fox, wouldn't come within a hundred feet of a human scent. They've got too keen noses for that. And yet I expect to show a fox picture soon."
"I wish I had one of that dandy black fox I trapped last winter, and the pelt of which brought me over a cool three hundred," remarked Ethan; and X-Ray was heard to take a quick breath as though given a little shock; at the same time winking aside toward Phil, who frowned, and shook his head threateningly.
They did not share that enthusiasm with the proud trapper, over that particular foxskin; simply because they knew it was a very poor specimen of its kind, and by rights not worth one-tenth the amount of the check which Ethan had received from the dealer in the distant city—Phil's uncle, though Ethan never dreamed of such a dreadful thing.
"Well, it strikes me you're a pretty clever weather man after all, Phil, because I certainly heard far-away thunder right then," and X-Ray as he said this pointed up at the heavens, which were heavily overcast with dark clouds.
"Let's get busy then, and see that everything is snug," Phil suggested.
"First of all we must get Mazie and her daddy housed," Ethan remarked. "By using the pair of rough crutches I made him, and with some help, he manages to get about after a fashion, though he'd be better keeping still some days yet. But he's such an active man it's hard to tie him down."
"He told me," Phil informed them, "he had that boat carried away up here on the back of a guide; and that another man brought his grub, blankets and outfit. You know we went and got all the duffle from the place he'd hidden it when he left here, a regular cave in the rocks; and everything looks like the party who bought the same had money to burn."
"Yes, he admitted that much to me," said Phil. "He also said those marks were on the table when they came. One of the guides told him a story about some men who were up two years ago, and arrested by government agents. He thinks they may have been bogus money-makers. When I showed him the fifty-cent piece X-Ray found he tried it every which way, and said it was probably counterfeit, though as clever an imitation as he had ever seen. But there's another grumble of thunder, boys, so let's get to work."
With the four of them hustling, things were speedily arranged. After the lame man and Mazie had been assisted under cover, the boys started to lay in plenty of fire-wood to last them a couple of days. There could be no telling how long the storm might linger—perhaps there would be only an hour of furious bombardment; and then again it was likely to rain heavily for days. Adirondack storms have a pretty bad name, as all will agree who have ever experienced their vigor and fury.
X-Ray even climbed up on the roof, and proceeded to patch one corner that he imagined needed repairs.
"I'm not like the backwoodsman who never seemed to get his leaky roof mended," X-Ray announced, from his elevated position; "and when they came to ask him the reason he says, says he: 'When it rains I carnt mend it; and when the weather's dry, what's the use?' The time to do it is when you hear the thunder warning you there's something great coming."
"It's getting closer all the while," commented Phil, as a louder burst came to their ears.
"And listen, what's that other sound we hear?" asked X-Ray Tyson, about ready to descend from his perch.
"Why, that's wind!" announced Ethan.
"Whew! it must be a hurricane then, for I thought that was a freight train. I'm glad we haven't any big tree hanging over us that'd be in danger of falling. And I'm also pleased to know our Lodge is so well protected by evergreens and birches. They'll serve as a wind-break."
"There's the rain; and as the wind is pretty fierce, we'd better adjourn to the cabin," and Phil led the way, with the others at his heels.
Hardly had they entered than there was a vivid flash without, followed by a crash that shook the humble cabin. Then with a shriek the wind swooped down, the rain began to fall in sheets and the storm was on.
They had seen ordinary storms many times, but one and all were decidedly of the opinion that this was something beyond the common. When X-Ray called it a hurricane he was not far out of the way.
Every little while they could hear a crash somewhere near by that sounded like a big tree falling; and in fact they understood that this was what was taking place; all of which made them doubly glad they had so good a shelter.