He saw Oscar when he came out and went toward the brook to make the round of his traps, but he did not dare go any nearer the cabin. The fear that Big Thompson might be in there held him back.
It was three hours before the young taxidermist returned; and, when he came in sight, there was something in his attitude and movements which told Lish that the boy had discovered his loss.
As soon as Oscar disappeared through the door, the wolfer arose to his feet and came out of his hiding place. This was the time, if ever, to ascertain whether or not Big Thompson was at home.
He ran toward the cabin with noiseless footsteps; and, placing his ear close to one of the cracks between the logs, listened intently.
No sound came from the inside, and this emboldened him to move around to the door and listen there. Still he heard nothing, and this gave him courage to thrust his head into the cabin.
There sat Oscar, gazing fixedly into the fire, and he was alone. The hinges creaked dolefully as the wolfer laid his hand upon the door, and this aroused Oscar, who jumped to his feet and ran forward as if he meant to shut the intruder out; but, if that was his object, Lish defeated it by throwing the door wide open and stepping across the threshold.
“Hold on thar!” he exclaimed in tones which he intended should strike terror to the boy’s heart and drive away all thoughts of escape or resistance. “If ye come an inch nigher I’ll send ye to kingdom come quicker’n ye could bat yer eye!”
Oscar stopped and stood motionless, for it would have been folly to do anything else. The wolfer held his rifle at a “ready,” the hammer was raised and his finger was on the trigger.
“So yer the chap as wanted to put me into the guard-house, be ye?” exclaimed Lish, after he had given his prisoner a good looking over.
“I?” cried Oscar. “I guess not!”