"Hallo, Mike!" sang out Hank. "Been after more of them 'ere murderers? How'd the case go with Hurley? This here Joe ha' been waitin' case he should be called for evidence; but he heard a while ago as he warn't likely to be wanted."
The face of the huge policeman, already tanned a deep colour, went red under his tan, while an expression of annoyance flitted across his features.
"We made a muss of that 'ere thing, Hank," he declared. "Joe wasn't called for the simple reason that the folks who'd taken Hurley in charge let him give 'em the slip. He got clear away, and I'm jest now returning after a chase. He's gone—where, I don't know. But he's got clear, which aer a bad nuisance. Jest you mind that you don't come up agin him. He's not the one to forget old scores, and he'd rub it in ef he'd the power. Wall, so long! I must get back and report; someone's going to get trouble over this business."
They parted where they had met, Hank and Joe pushing onward still at a sharp pace.
"I'm jest sorry that Hurley got clear," said Hank, after a while, as if he had been thinking the matter out. "He's a bad man aer Hurley, and bad men away in the wilds are apt to bring trouble to people. I've knowed one who took up with a party of Redskins wandering in the forests, and, gee! he didn't stop at anything. He'd made bad trouble before the police rounded him up and shot him down. Let's hope we shan't knock across this Hurley. Now, lad, guess we'll do another mile or so and then fix our camp fer the night. Looks ter me as ef it might snow, so we'll be wise to make all snug and tidy."
They came to a halt finally beside a small wood, and, penetrating to a part where the trees were of considerable size, deposited their belongings on the ground.
"Don't do to camp where it's damp, in the fust place," explained Hank. "Where there's muskegs the trees soon rot, and ef a wind springs up you might have the trunks coming about your ears, to say nothing of rotten branches. This place is high and dry, and the trees, being stout and well inside the wood, will stand up to a gale. Now fer that shack I was talking about. Look out fer a tidy long-forked stick, and fer other straight ones to lay across."
Hank was evidently a past master at all that appertained to camping, for even without Joe's aid he would soon have erected the shack. Taking two forked sticks, he drove the straight end in each case as deeply into the ground as he was able; a third was laid over the forks, and then a number were allowed to lean against the one laid horizontally. Thus a species of tente d'abri was constructed, and a roofing quickly put to it, by the simple means of slashing off spruce twigs and branches and laying them on top.
"That ain't always enough," explained Hank. "Ef there's a bad wind, it would blow all them branches away. But it don't take long to cut turfs or to peg the branches down, whichever you've a fancy for. Seein' as the ground in here ain't over-hard, we'll take turfs; the wind won't hurt 'em, and ef it turns to rain instead o' snow, why, not a drop'll fall through. Now fer a bed—one between us, mate, for we'll be companions in every way. A pile of these spruce twigs will suit us well; then we'll light the fire and get the kettle going. A pot of tea with a morsel to bite won't come amiss after our march. How do yer think you'll like prospecting?"
Joe did not think; he was emphatic about the matter, for the farther they went the better he enjoyed the trip. He busied himself now with the fire, for, during the chase of Hurley, George Bailey had taught him much that concerned the culinary portion of a camp. Then he produced a small loin of pork, and, cutting portions from it, soon had them sizzling over the flames.