When he was out of sight Tom took his rifle and crept after him. Arriving at the lake, he espied McLeod’s canoe far over by the other shore. It was moving slowly downward, and passed out of sight. Presumably the man was really bound back to Oakley.
Tom remained on the shore for an hour or two to make sure that the man did not come back. He felt desperately lonely now and unsupported. He was uncertain of his rights, with no one to advise him, with war almost openly declared against him, and with, perhaps, a small fortune at stake.
He turned back at last slowly toward his old barn again, turning plans of defense over in his mind. To his surprise he saw from a distance that the fire had been freshly built up. A brisk smoke was rising; the kettle was on, and a humped figure sat with its back toward him. Tom hurried up in alarm and suspicion, and saw a dark, familiar face.
“Fur all sold,” said Indian Charlie. “I come stay with you, Tom.”
CHAPTER IV
BURNED OUT
Tom gave a loud hurrah, and whacked Charlie on the shoulder. Nothing could have delighted him more than this reinforcement, just when the air was full of trouble.
“You’ve come at the right time, Charlie!” he exclaimed. “I needed you. But say!” he added anxiously, “have you got any grub?”
“Got flour, pork, tea,” answered the wild boy. “Beans, sugar too. Sure, we eat heap. Ketch plenty fish, shoot plenty deer, rabbit.”
“Shoot maybe more than rabbit,” said Tom, sitting down on the other side of the fire. “There’s trouble, Charlie. I’m on the warpath.”
Charlie fixed bright black eyes on him with an interested grunt, and Tom endeavored to explain briefly that enemies were trying to dislodge him from his position, which he intended to hold, by force if needful.