We have said that things always went wrong with Lish, but that is not in strict accordance with the facts.
There was one hour in every twenty-four during which he allowed his good nature to triumph over the tyrant in his disposition, and that always happened at night, provided his own catch had been tolerably fair, and he had been able to steal a few skins from Tom without being caught in the act.
On these occasions Lish entered into friendly conversation with his partner over his pipe, during which he never failed to make a good many inquiries concerning Oscar and his business, and he seemed particularly desirous of finding out just how the young taxidermist looked and acted.
This led Tom to believe that Lish was greatly interested in his brother and his movements, and so he was; for he had not yet been able to settle down into the belief that his plan for keeping Oscar out of the hills would prove successful.
Through the influence of Big Thompson a compromise of some kind might be effected between Oscar and the ranchman, or the boy might purchase the stolen mule and wagon.
In either case he and his guide would be able to continue their journey with but little delay, and come into the valley in spite of the wolfer’s efforts to keep them away from it.
This was what Lish was afraid of, and it was one cause of his constant ill-humor.
When the snow fell and blocked the gorge he would feel safe, and not before. The wolfer knew Big Thompson, but Oscar he did not know,—he did not have time to take a very good look at him when he met him in the sage-brush,—and he wanted to learn all about him, so that he would be sure to recognize him if he chanced to encounter him in the valley. He had another idea in his head too; and what it was shall be told further on.
The wished-for storm came at last, and Tom was disposed to grumble sullenly when he awoke the next morning and found three inches of snow on his blanket; but Lish was as gay as a lark, and excited the suspicions of his companion by offering to help him prepare the breakfast.
All the wolfer’s fears were banished now. If Big Thompson was not in the valley already, he would not be likely to get there at all, for the gale must have filled the gorge full of snow. But Lish wanted to satisfy himself entirely on this point; so he left the camp as soon as he had eaten his bacon and cracker, and, after stealing a few skins from Tom, set out to visit the lower end of the valley.