His hopes were realized for they had not been there more than fifteen minutes when his sharp ears caught the creaking of snow.
“Somebody’s coming,” he whispered, and soon they could see a man coming toward them. It was now fairly light and as he came nearer they could see that he carried a jug in one hand.
“You hit it all right,” Jack whispered.
Just then the man caught sight of the tracks of their snow-shoes and stopped as though undecided what to do. But after a short pause he started off again.
Suddenly the sharp report of a rifle rang through the forest and the jug smashed in pieces.
“Honestly, if ever a man was scared it was that fellow, and I nearly died trying not to laugh,” Jack afterward told Tom.
For an instant the man stood as if petrified; then, with a wild yell, he turned and started back. In his haste he tripped and fell headlong in the deep snow. He was so scared that it took him some little time to get on his feet again, but he finally accomplished it and soon disappeared.
“Come on now we’ve got to beat it,” Bob said, as he crept out of the hiding place closely followed by Jack.
“I don’t believe they’ll try it that way again very soon,” Jack panted as they made the best time possible toward home.
“Where in the name of goodness yer been?” Tom was standing in the doorway of the office as they returned.