Blackie was terribly frightened, but kept his head. These men were dangerous; he was alone with them, miles from any help. They could not guess that of all the people in the world, he alone had witnessed the death of the hermit at their hands. But if he admitted that he came from Camp Lenape, they would wonder why he was away from camp by himself, and would suspect that there were others near. He must depend upon his wits, now; and with the shadow of the great lie at camp hanging over him, he felt that one lie more or less would not matter now.
“I’m on the road, Mister Reno,” he said. “I didn’t know you were here—I’m bumming around by myself, honest!”
The tramp laughed nastily. “On the road, huh? Well, we need a kid about your size. Stick with us, see, and you’ll be rich some day. Frisk ’im, Lew.”
The weak-chinned man called Lew was rapidly going through Blackie’s pockets and unstrapping his belt. “We’re in luck!” he said. “Grub and a light and blankets! An ax, too; the kid can use it to chop more wood for our fire. Look, Reno—we’ll have a regular banquet—peas and ham and spuds!”
“About time,” yawned Reno, moving back to the fire. “Get a move on and dish up supper. Blast my eyes if I ain’t sick to death of livin’ on fish and berries.”
Lew permitted Blackie to get up. “Well, what did ya expect to live on while we was waitin’ for the Big Job to blow over——” he began, but Reno stopped him with a hasty gesture.
“Shut up! If the sheriff was to hear ya say that——” he threatened. Lew turned away, muttering, and with Blackie’s hand-ax chopped open the can of peas and began cooking the meal at the fire.
Blackie, unharmed for the present but stripped of his supply of food and all his equipment, was allowed to sit in a corner and wonder how he could get out of his plight. Escape for the present was impossible; he was too closely guarded to get out of the hut, and even if he did so, he would be lost in the dark wilderness where every horror in the world might lurk.
The supper cooked, the two tramps set to in surly silence and gobbled up every scrap of food Blackie had brought. He did not dare ask for a share, but hungrily watched them devour the meal to the last morsel. Reno finished first, wiped his greasy mouth on the back of his sleeve, yawned loudly, took one of Blackie’s blankets and an old quilt he picked up somewhere, and laid out his bed on the floor of the hut. His back was against the low door, the only means of exit from the place, and before turning in, he took the ax and placed it under his ragged coat, which he had doubled to serve as a pillow. Lew, leaving the dirty dishes on the rough table, took the remaining blanket and sprawled out on the floor near the fire.
Blackie ventured a question. “Excuse me, Mister,” he said, “but where can I sleep?”