Would wonders never cease? Andy asked himself, as he continued to crouch there. First, there was the astonishing appearance of the chief villain, and now here was Zeb acting as though he had actually lost his head and meant to commit suicide.
Straight along came the woods guide. He looked solemn enough; indeed, Andy even thought Zeb had the appearance of a man who was up for sentence before a judge, and meant to throw himself on the mercy of the court.
Then Andy discovered that the dark-faced conspirator had discovered the coming of Zeb, which would indicate that he possessed pretty keen hearing. But how was this, that he did not instantly fly to where those two guns rested against the trunk of the pine near by and prepare to give the intruder a hot reception?
Andy saw that he must have said something to the larger man, for the other quickly looked toward Zeb. Neither did he show any sign of sudden and overwhelming alarm. Indeed, he even smiled broadly, and looked pleased, which about completed Andy’s confusion. The mystery was really too deep for him, though when he heard Rob chuckling close by, he began to fancy that the scout master was able to read between the lines better than he had been.
It grew even more mysterious when Andy saw Zeb, their friend Zeb, actually hold out his hand and take the extended digits of the solemn-looking dark-faced man, whose straight figure and black hair made the boy suspect that he might well have some Indian blood in his veins.
Now Zeb was facing the large man, who still sat there and listened to what the Maine woodsman might be saying. When he, too, finally reached up his hand and Zeb eagerly pounced upon it, all at once the wonderful truth broke in upon the bewildered Andy just as a flash of lightning might dart from the clouds to the earth during a storm.
Why, these were not desperate conspirators they had discovered, at all. Their work had been for nothing, save that it was good practice for scouts to be given a chance to show what they could do in the way of creeping up on a suspected enemy’s camp. That man with the bronzed skin was Sebattis, the Penobscot guide, and the jovial party, to be sure, he could be no other than Tubby’s Uncle George!
It was a pretty severe shock to Andy when this burst upon him so suddenly.
“Well, what d’ye think of that, Rob?” he gasped. “After all, we’ve run across Uncle George and his other guide; and Zeb’s in his good graces again. Well, we’re certainly in hard luck one way, and in good another. I’m sorry for you, lieutenant, but we’ve struck the wrong party. We know this gentleman, who is a rich sportsman. If you look sharp you will see a moose head over there, which shows that, after all, Uncle George managed to get the big bull. Good for him!”
The soldier was keenly disappointed to learn that their fine plans had been wasted; but as Rob expected, he was made of the right kind of stuff and could take things as they came, the bitter with the sweet.