Jake Coyle was so heavily loaded down with other plunder that he could not carry me away with him. That was something upon which I congratulated myself, for I was sure that the guides and their companions would not leave until they had made a thorough examination of the woods surrounding the squatter’s camp; but in this I was disappointed.
They set fire to every thing that Matt had left behind in his hurried flight, and went back to the bay to find that the enemy had been operating in their rear. While they were waiting for the fire they had kindled to burn itself out, Matt and his family “circled around” to the bay in which they had left their scow, and went to work to pay Mr. Swan back in his own coin. Every thing that would sink was thrown into the water, and every thing that wouldn’t was sent whirling through the air toward the woods on the opposite side of the bay. That was the way my friend Fly-rod got crippled. He brought up against a tree with such force that his second joint was broken close to the ferrule. After doing all the damage they could without alarming the guides, Matt and his family took two of the best boats and made their escape in them.
I judged that Mr. Swan and his party were a pretty mad lot of men when they returned to the bay and saw what had been done there during their absence. They were so far away that I could not catch all they said, but I could hear Joe Wayring’s voice, and longed for the power to do something that would lead him to my place of concealment. I also heard the owner of the stolen Winchester say:
“We will give a hundred dollars apiece to the man who will find our weapons, capture the thief, and hold him so that we can come and testify against him. Or, we will give fifty dollars apiece for the guns without the thief and the same amount for the thief without the guns. Boys, you are included in that offer.”
I knew that the last words were addressed to Joe Wayring and his chums, for I heard Arthur thank him, and say that it would afford him and his friends great satisfaction if they could find and restore the stolen guns. I did not suppose that the boys would ever think of the matter again, having so many other things to occupy their minds; but subsequent events proved that I was mistaken.
CHAPTER III.
IN THE WATCHMAN’S CABIN.
Mr. Swan and his party started for Indian Lake at an early hour the next morning, and I was left alone in the bushes. I stayed there all that night and until noon the next day, and then Jake Coyle and his brother suddenly appeared in front of my hiding-place. They came up so silently that I did not know they were anywhere in the neighborhood until they were close upon me; but I was not much surprised at that, for I had become well enough acquainted with them during my previous captivity to know that that was their usual way of doing. They could not have taken more pains to conceal their movements if they had been hostile Indians on the hunt for scalps.
They always had the fear of the law before their eyes, and lived in a state of anxiety and apprehension that could hardly have been endured by any one else.
“Here he is, all right an’ tight,” said Jake, laying hold of the rope with which he had tied me together and hauling me out of the thicket. “Ole Swan didn’t go to pokin’ around through the bresh like I was afeared he would. Come out here. You’ve got to help me steal some more bacon an’ ’taters to-night.”
“Don’t you let Joe Wayring an’ the rest of them fellers sneak up an’ take him away from you, like they done the last time you went out with him to steal bacon an’ ’taters,” cautioned Sam. “Them boys ain’t gone home yet, an’ I shan’t rest easy till they do. As long as they stay snoopin’ around in these woods where they ain’t wanted they’re liable to drop down on us at any minute.”