Tom met them just as they came in sight of the crew, busily at work, “as though they had never cut anywhere else and never intended to,” Jack laughed.
“So they’re a comin’,” Tom greeted them.
“They sure are, the whole kerboodle of them I guess,” Jack replied as he kicked the snow-shoes from his feet.
“We didn’t wait to see how many there were,” Bob explained. “But we could hear them and I guess Jack’s about right. Listen. They can’t be very far away now.”
But although they strained their ears, not a sound reached them from the direction of the rival camp.
“Sure and they probably cut out the talkin’,” Tom said. “I gess they mane ter take us by surprise as it was, but it’s meself as thinks the surprise will be on the ither foot.”
It was a full half hour later when they caught the first glimpse of the “invading army,” as Jack termed them. They appeared suddenly in the woods on the other side of the clearing, full fifty strong. Only a few were equipped with snow-shoes, and that was undoubtedly why they had been so long in getting there. Every man had a club of some kind in his hand, but the boys were unable to see any guns. Big Ben was too well acquainted with the type of man he employed to trust them with anything more deadly than an ax handle or a broken peavey.
They stopped on the edge of the clearing as if undecided as to the next move. The fact that there was no one working on the disputed tract when they arrived had evidently disarranged their plans.
From their position, just within the fringe of trees which separated the camp from the place where the crew was at work, Tom and the boys watched, trying to catch sight of Big Ben. The men were talking excitedly but in low tones, so that they were unable to catch what was being said, but from their wild gesticulations they judged that many of them were urging an immediate attack on the camp.
“I see him,” Jack whispered, as they all saw the big man shouldering his way through the mob.