“François said he called himself the Terrible Badger!”
“Allowing for François being badly frightened we can put our interpretation on that,” said Phil. “Instead of Badger say Baylay, and you’ve got it straight.”
“Whew! both that logger and Mr. McNab did say he was an awful case, didn’t they? And seems like all men are alike to him. Little he cares whether it’s an American millionaire railroad wrecker, or just a plain sportsman, Anson Baylay snaps his fingers and tells them to dance, and they do dance.”
“He might choose to treat us the same way, so don’t crow too loud, Ethan,” warned the other.
“What! after we’ve done so much for his kid that has the impediment in his speech? I should think he’d have some kind of gratitude about him. But if this was Baylay somehow he didn’t seem to mention anything about losing a child, that François heard?”
“It may be he hasn’t been home for several days,” explained Phil. “I understand he carried a line of traps somewhere up here; and possibly he is compelled to be away for days at a time. But he must have been on the way home when his dog got that scalding at the hands of the French cook, who thought it was a bold wolf invading the camp.”
“Then if Baylay gets home this afternoon or evening he’s likely to hear about his terrible loss. In that case we may expect to see him within the next twenty-four hours, wouldn’t you think, Phil?”
“If he doesn’t show up by to-morrow morning I plan to start out and try to find his cabin, so we can let them know we have the boy safe and sound. But here we are close on our camp, and everything seems to be serene there.”
[CHAPTER XV—THE FIRE VIGIL]
When the sound of their snow-shoes crunching over the surface of the drifts came to the ears of Lub, still seated there on the log, he was seen to start, and half raise his gun, while he evidently gave some sort of signal, for X-Ray came rushing out of the shack, also armed.