"Well, as to your face and clothes we might be mistook," replied Nels, slowly. "But you had oughter hid that watch chain before you come back amongst we-uns."
He reached out to lay hold of the article in question, but the angry boy pushed his hand away.
"This watch and chain were a birthday present from my mother four years ago," said he, taking the watch from his pocket and unhooking the chain, "and the fact is recorded on the inside of the case, if you have sense enough to read it, which I begin to doubt. You are at liberty to look at them, but you mustn't try to get out of the door with them."
Nels took the articles in question and looked fixedly at Rodney, as if he did not know whether to smile at him or get angry. He decided on the former course when one of his companions said, in an audible whisper:
"You sartingly be mistook, Nels. That abolition hoss-thief was a mighty palavering sort of chap, but he didn't have no such grit."
"Is that what you take me for," exclaimed Rodney,—"a horse-thief and an abolitionist besides? You certainly are mistaken, for I haven't got that low down in the world yet. Jeff, you are the only man in the party who seems to have a level head on his shoulders, and I wish you would explain this thing to me. Begin at the beginning so that I may know just how the case stands."
Before Jeff could reply to the request one of the small army of hunting dogs which found shelter in the wood-cutters' camp set up a yelp, the rest of the pack joined in, and for a minute or two there was a terrific hubbub. When it lulled a little the hail rang out sharp and clear from some place in the surrounding woods:
"Hallo the house! Don't let your dogs bite!"
The words brought all the wood-choppers to their feet and sent all except two of them—Nels and the man who had taken his seat near the door—out into the darkness. These remained behind in obedience to a sign from Jeff, and Rodney knew that they meant to keep an eye on him.
"Who's out there?" he inquired.