"Good for Brierly!" was Joe's mental comment. "I wish he would serve every law-breaking pot-hunter who takes him for a guide in the same way." Then, aloud, he asked, "Did it frighten you to think that you had a fair prospect of lying out all night?"
"It was by no means a pleasant reflection, but that wasn't what frightened me. I ran across a couple of men up there," said Mr. Brown, giving his head a backward jerk. "Their stealthy actions seemed to indicate that they were abroad for no good purpose, and I was not sorry to see the last of them."
"Did they say anything to you?" asked Joe.
"Not a word. They made all haste to lose themselves among the thickets, and so did I. It was the prospect of passing the night alone on the mountain while there were prowlers around that tested my nerves, and I was glad indeed to come within sight of your light."
This piece of news was not at all quieting to the feelings of the young game-warden. It aroused in his mind the suspicion that there was more than one man hiding in the gorge, and that they made a business of roaming around after dark to see what they could find that was worth picking up.
If this suspicion was correct, Mr. Warren's woods might prove a very unpleasant place for him to live for eight long months, Joe told himself. He could not remain on guard duty at the cabin all the time, for the work he came there to do would take him to the remotest nooks and corners of the wood-lot; and how easy it would be for those men to slip up during his absence and carry away everything he possessed!
"If they are outlaws, and I really believe they are," thought Joe, as he poked up the fire, which had by this time almost burned itself down to a glowing bed of coals, "they ought to be hunted out of that gorge without loss of time. I will find Tom and Bob the first thing in the morning, and ask them what they think of it."