“It slipped my mind,” Kramer admitted.
“I’ll wait here,” Jim decided. He slid low in the cock-pit as soon as the pair were out of sight, and his mind was busy with the idea that someone—perhaps the lad who was responsible for the loss of Her Highness, might come nosing around. He wanted to give whoever it was plenty of opportunity to get close in case he was again in the vicinity. Austin kept perfectly quiet, his head well below the rim of the cock-pit.
He heard the jingle of bells as small sleighs slid by, the shout of neighborly greetings, an occasional automobile and the distant whine of a buzz-saw as it bit into huge logs, cutting them into cordwood. The boy was beginning to believe that his vigilance was to go unrewarded when he heard the thud of a pair of boots dropping with someone into the cattle enclosure; then came the cautious approach. They were coming to the plane, that was evident, and Jim got ready. Watching, with every muscle keyed to spring, he waited. There was a moment’s hesitation, whoever it was stopped under the wing, then a second later a hand rested within a few inches of his face. He swung up with all his strength, caught the wrist firmly and yanked. At that there was a scraping, then the business end of a six-shooter was pointed into his face, and simultaneously he leaped up with a yell.
“What—” He stopped short and stared in startled amazement.
“Oh, that you, Austin?” The gun was slipped back to its holster.
“Sure, Sheriff.” Jim was too astounded to say anything more.
“I calculated I’d find you here, and I’m right glad you dropped in to town today because I’m going to ask you to help me.”
“I’ll do anything I can,” Jim assured him.
“Wall, it’s this way. You know we’ve been keeping the Gordon place under observation. Got a deputy there most of the time. Maybe he’s getting nutty, I don’t know, he’s alone and there’s a sort of sameness to this here snow. He reported a couple of days ago that he thought someone was hanging out up there but he hasn’t been able to fetch up with whoever it is and he ain’t seen no tracks. I ain’t had a minute to go and look myself, and I ain’t got no one to send right now. He put in a call ’bout noon time. Said he’s seen some tracks, they look like a bear’s.”
“There are no bears out this time of year,” Jim reminded him.