Klondike Nuggets, and How Two Boys Secured Them

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

The boy was right in his supposition.

CHAPTER VII.

THE PLOTTERS.

All day long the two axes swung vigorously. Both Jeff and Tim were expert woodmen, and they felled pine after pine. Hardman pleaded that he was unaccustomed to such work; but Jeff grimly told him he could never have a better chance to learn to cut down trees, and compelled him to take his turn. The work was continued until dark, which, it will be remembered, comes much later in the far North than in our latitude.

The distance between the scene of their work and the point where the outfits and goods were piled was so slight that there was really no need of the boys remaining on guard. Feeling that they were favored too much, they sauntered to the wood and asked the privilege of taking a hand in felling the trees. It was granted; but they made such sorry work, finding it almost impossible to sink the blade twice in the same spot, that they yielded the implements to those who understood the business so much better.

The snow was deep, and the camp was much the same as the one made before entering Chilkoot Pass. All were tired, and lay down after the evening meal, glad of the opportunity for a few hours' sleep.

In accordance with their agreement, the boys said nothing to either of their friends about what Frank had observed on the boat. It was understood between them that they were to feign sleep, but to keep watch of Hardman during the night as long as they could remain awake. Ordinarily it is a difficult if not impossible task for one to fight off the insidious approach of slumber, but Frank Mansley had wrought himself into such a state of anxiety that he was sure he could command his senses until well toward morning.

He and Roswell lay under the same blanket, with their backs to each other, while the others were by themselves, the interior of the tent barely permitting the arrangement. Had any one stealthily entered fifteen minutes after they had lain down, he would have declared that all were asleep, though such was not the fact.

Despite his nervousness, Frank was beginning to feel drowsy when he was startled and set on edge by a sound that penetrated the profound silence. It resembled the whistle of a bird from the timber, soft, clear, and tremulous. Almost in the same instant he heard one of the men rise stealthily from his couch. It was easy to determine, from the direction of the slight rustle, that it was Hardman.