Bob was very much astonished at what he heard. He knew that Godfrey had uttered nothing but the truth, and told himself that he understood the situation perfectly. Godfrey was called the meanest man in the settlement, so far as money was concerned. He had been known to go to the store and beg for credit when he had cash enough in his pocket to pay for the goods he wanted. He would hold fast to a dollar as long as he could, and only let it go when he found that he could not help himself. It was not to be supposed that he would willingly give Dan half the hundred and sixty dollars, no matter how solemn the promises he might have made him. The plea that he wanted to take care of Dan’s share for him amused Bob, who knew that it was only an excuse on Godfrey’s part for keeping it all; and the boy thought that Dan showed wisdom in doing as he did. He wondered at it, too. He didn’t think Dan was half so smart.
“Well, Godfrey,” said Bob, rising from his log and picking up his rifle, “if any one should serve me a trick like that, do you know what I would do? I would hunt him, night and day, until I found him.”
“Yer mighty right, I will,” yelled Godfrey. “Ye hear me? An’ when I ketch him, I’ll make a hickory whistle about them ears of his’n till he’ll think thar’s a harrycane goin’ through the woods. Now I’m a shoutin’ to ye!”
“Well, good-by, Godfrey,” exclaimed Bob, who, seeing that the man began to show symptoms of going into another flurry, thought it best to get out of harm’s way. “Success to you.”
“I say, Mister Bob,” cried Godfrey, suddenly calming himself, “yer a monstrous fine boy, Bob, an’ me an’ my ole woman has allers been amazin’ fond of ye, an’ sot a heap of store by ye. Ye won’t say nothing to nobody ’bout seein’ me out here in the bresh, will ye, Mister Bob?”
“Not a word. You may depend upon me, Godfrey. If they don’t find you till I tell them where you are, you’ll never be found. Now here’s a go,” thought Bob, as he brought his rifle to a trail, and struggled slowly up the steep bank toward the top of the ridge, “and the question is, who is going to catch Dan first, Godfrey or I? I shouldn’t be afraid to say that I shall be the successful one, for Godfrey is going to look in the wrong place. He thinks Dan is in the swamp, but I don’t. He has shown himself to be a sly fox, and he wouldn’t be foolish enough to go down there and get lost in those dense canebrakes. There are too many bears and wild-cats in them. Dan is hidden somewhere among these hills, and so close to the settlement that he can hear every boat that whistles at the landing.”
Bob was greatly encouraged by what he had heard during his interview with Godfrey. He thought it was a very fortunate thing for him that Dan had stolen the money, for it made it easier for him to accomplish the task he had set for himself. He had entertained some serious doubts as to his ability to outwit Godfrey, but he told himself that, if he was not smart enough to get the better of Dan in some way, he ought to go without a breech-loader as long as he lived. Just how he would set about it he had not made up his mind. His first hard work must be, to find Dan. That was the greatest difficulty to be overcome. The others were small in comparison.
Having, at last, reached the top of the ridge, Bob sat down for a few minutes to recover his breath, and eat his lunch, and then set out through the woods at a rapid walk. There was no need of caution, now, for it was not at all probable that Dan would be found anywhere within sight of the smoke of his father’s camp-fire. Bob seemed to know where he was going, for he held a straight course, turning aside for neither gully nor hill, until, at length, he reached a high ridge, bounded on each side by a deep and densely-wooded ravine, like the one in which he had discovered Godfrey. If Dan was to be found anywhere among the hills, this was the place in which Bob thought he ought to look for him. He examined both the ravines as well as he could, as he walked rapidly along, but nothing like the smoke of a camp-fire was to be seen. When he arrived at the end of the ridge he would have been glad to return, and go over that portion of it which he had not yet surveyed; but the declining sun admonished him that it was time for him to turn his face homeward, and this he reluctantly did.
“I was in hopes that I should have that money in my possession before I went to bed to-night,” thought Bob, as he shouldered his rifle, and struck a straight course for his father’s plantation. “But I’ll have it to-morrow night, unless luck goes against me. I am sure he is in one of these two gullies; and I will be out in the morning about the time he is cooking his breakfast, and then I’ll see the smoke of his fire. Hallo! Be-he-he!”
That is as near as we can come to spelling the sound to which Bob gave utterance, just after he finished his soliloquy. It was a perfect imitation of the bleat of a fawn. While he was hurrying along, intent on reaching home before dark, and thinking busily about Dan Evans, he “jumped” a huge buck from the top of a fallen tree, just in front of him. The buck ran as only a frightened deer can, but, before he had made many bounds, he heard Bob’s call, and came to a stand-still. He paused but an instant, but that instant was fatal to him. As he turned his stately head, the bullet from Bob’s rifle pierced his neck and he fell, and died almost without a struggle. Bob ran quickly to his side, and in a very short space of time, considering the amount of work that was done, the deer had been cleaned and hung upon the branches of a small tree, out of reach of the wolves, and the young hunter was once more on his way home. He reached the house shortly after dark, and found the family just sitting down to supper.