Once well under way, however, spring returned with speed, the brooks began to overflow, the lake to rise, and one morning, instead of a white expanse of watery ice, it was a blue and rippled lake once more.
And now plans for Ray’s return to Greenvale were in order, and the sole topic of discussion. He was as eager as a boy anxious for the close of school, and for a double reason, which is self-evident.
It was agreed that Old Cy and himself should make the trip out together in two canoes, and convey their stores of gum and firs. At the settlement these were to be packed, to await later sale and shipment. Old Cy would then return to camp, and Ray would go on to Greenvale.
A change in this plan came in an unexpected manner, however, for a few days before the one set for departure, Old Cy, always on watch, saw a canoe enter the lake, and who should appear but Levi, Martin’s old guide.
“I’ve been cookin’ up at a lumber camp on the Moosehorn,” he explained, after greetings had been exchanged, “an’ I thought I would make a trip up here an’ call on ye ’fore I went out.”
How welcome he was, and how all, even Amzi, of those winter-bound prisoners vied with each other in making him the guest of honor, need not be asserted. He had been a part of their life here the previous summer, with all its joys and dangers, and now seemed one of them.
When mutual experiences and their winter’s history had been exchanged, of course Chip’s rescue, the half-breed’s escape, and the whereabouts of her father came up for discussion that evening.
“I’ve heard from Tim’s Place two or three times this winter,” said Levi, “an’ neither Pete nor old McGuire has been seen or heard on since early last fall. Pete got thar all safe, but vowed revenge on McGuire, as Martin and I found, when we went out. He stayed round a week or so, I heard later, and then started for his cabin on the Fox Hole, ’n’ since then hain’t never been seen or heard of by nobody. Tim an’ Mike went over to his cabin ’long in the winter, but no signs of him was found, or even of his bein’ thar since snow came. McGuire also seems to hev dropped out o’ business and ain’t been heard on since in the summer. We’ve expected him all winter at the lumber camp, but he didn’t show up.”
“We’ve seen him,” put in Old Cy, flashing a smile at Ray, “leastwise I callated ’twas him, though I never let on to that effect. He was trappin’ over beyond a big swamp last fall, ’n’ he paid us a visit, stole a half-dozen o’ our catches ’n’ left his trade-mark on our canoe.” And then Old Cy told the story of their adventure, omitting, however, any reference to the supposed cave.
“It’s curis what has become o’ him,” Levi said, when the tale was told, “and our camp crowd all believe that thar’s been foul play, with Pete at the bottom on’t. Nobody’s shed any tears, though, an’ I’m thinkin’ the woods is well rid o’ him. He’s been a terror to everybody long enough.”