“So you really intend to start?” asked Sandy.
“Yes. Right away. Neither the corporal nor myself have had anything to eat since this noon, but we dare not stop now.”
Toma, who had gone out to gather brush for the fire, suddenly darted back within the circle of light, a startled cry on his lips.
“Quick!” he faltered. “Get to cover! I jus’ see ’em someone!”
Toma’s warning came in the nick of time. Motioning to the boys to drop back away from the campfire, Sergeant Richardson and Corporal Rand struck off hurriedly. With Sandy at his side, Dick found himself a moment later stumbling through snow more than ankle-deep. They could hear the sound of hurrying forms, a sharp word of command—then silence! They brought up before a willow copse, thick and almost impassable. Here they crouched low, waiting developments.
“It must be the half-breed again,” Dick whispered hoarsely. “It’s a good thing we scattered when we did. Anyone near the campfire would make a splendid target.”
He turned and looked back toward the place they had just vacated. A bright glare of firelight cast its reflection through a wide circle of pitchy darkness, producing an eerie effect. The trees looked stark and gaunt at the outer fringe of the circle. The place, which a few moments before had been alive with the human forms of his companions, was now totally deserted.
They waited breathlessly. The commotion, following Toma’s announcement, had died away. Deep and forbidding seemed the solitude of the forest. Dick wondered what had become of the two policemen and Toma. He half expected to hear the disconcerting crack of a revolver. The minutes passed slowly. The snow fell softly now—huge white flakes floating through the air like particles of fluff. Sandy stamped his feet impatiently, then pulled his parka farther down so that it muffled his face.
“If it isn’t one thing, it’s another,” he lamented. “If that half-breed has come back to bother us, he may get more than he has bargained for.”
Dick looked up sharply. A sudden tramping of feet and the crackling of underbrush, warned him of someone’s approach. For a split-second his heart caught with excitement. Was the half-breed himself coming their way? Then his mouth gaped open in amazement. Within the circle of light there appeared abruptly three forms, two of which the boys quickly recognized—Richardson and Rand. They half-carried, half-dragged between them a struggling protesting creature—none other than the half-breed himself!