Joe grinned; he couldn't help doing so, in spite of the danger of the situation. "If there's not a row?" he asked.
"Ef there's not a ruction with them dogs and the other men, and things go nice and smooth and easy, I'll lift my hand when I'm ready. Then you get a grip of that thar Hurley, bash him over the head ef you like with your open hand, and, as he rises, bring the whole shanty down on him—eh? You're there, ain't you? It aer a clear and straightforward plan."
"Got it," answered Joe promptly, moistening his lips, and tingling with excitement and anticipation. "Do we start now?"
"This very instant. But supposin' Hurley suddenly rouses as soon as we get close, and afore you kin bring the shack down on him——"
"Leave that to me," answered Joe tersely. "I've had one innings with the ruffian already."
There never were two who understood each other so well and so easily as did Hank and our hero. Their discussion had taken them but a few bare seconds, and now they were creeping back. Joe halted when close beside the lean-to, while the little hunter sat down on his knees and whispered to the dog Jimmy. The hound seemed to have gathered his meaning too as rapidly as had Joe, for he went slinking forward and lay down beside his comrades. As might have been expected, his coming caused many of the beasts to open their eyes, though they did not offer to move. But Hank was watching eagerly, and a second later a morsel of flesh flew across, landing close to Jimmy. Others followed, and in an incredibly short space of time the dogs were all aroused and standing.
"Jest watch fer the signal," whispered the hunter. "I'm agoin' to put 'em into their harness."
It was just at that moment that Joe heard a movement within the lean-to, and promptly applied his eye to the opening he had made. Hurley had turned over, and was now blinking at the spluttering torch, while one arm was spread out over the box. Something seemed to have alarmed him, for he sat up, giving the box a kick, which Hank heard; then he got to his feet swiftly and, bending low, stepped toward the opening, just outside which blazed the fire, and just beyond which Hank was mustering the team of dogs. Hurley saw him; for the instant he took him to be one of his own following, then he became suspicious.
"Who's that?" he called. "Hi! Someone is tampering with the dogs."
Joe did not venture to wait longer. He leaped on to the top of the lean-to, the flimsy thing breaking down beneath his weight at once; he trod upon the wretch beneath, sending him tumbling to the ground; then he stood ready for the next movement. It came with startling suddenness. Hank had found a whip close to the dogs, and sent it cracking over the team. The brutes sprang forward the next instant, and in spite of the fact that Hurley had tumbled across the sleigh, they brought it out from beneath the smashed lean-to with a jerk which tossed snow and sticks aside, and sent the rascally leader of this band of cut-throats rolling backward from the end. Hank seemed to fly to his position at the fore end. Joe fell across the sleigh as it flashed past him, scrambled aboard, and found himself gripping the sides closely; for a sleigh is no easy thing to ride when a strong team pulls it at fast pace across ground which is broken. It jolts and sways abominably, while often enough it will glissade, just like a petrol car rounding a sharp and greasy corner.