“You will not find me here, Rube, when you come back,” he said, speaking out his thoughts, as he discussed a frugal meal alone. “I'm goin' to hunt new trapping-grounds, so far away from here that I'll never think of Midnight Jack and his sister.”
He finished the meal, and carried the light to his traps. Setting it on the ground he began to untangle the chains, but his fingers moved slower and slower, until at last his body fell gently to one side, and Gopher Gid, the little trapper, was asleep.
But it was the slumber of the cat, for all at once his eyes opened, and as they darted to the door his fingers clutched the butt of a pistol with firm determination.
Gopher Gid sprung erect, and fastened his eyes on the portal.
The candle was burning low at his feet, and the room was growing darker each succeeding moment, but the awakening noise at the door still continued.
Then came in sight the semblance of a human head, and the next moment Gopher Gid saw the hideous face of Timon Moss, whose two little eyes danced like dervishes in their cells.
He raised the revolver, and fired at the living target. At the same moment the candle went out, and left him in almost palpable gloom.
With the flash of Gopher Gid's revolver, old Tanglefoot's head disappeared as if a battering-ram had been applied to the cranium.
For a long time the little hermit stood in the gloom at the side of the door, waiting for a reappearance of his foe.
After waiting for two hours, with his heart beating audibly in his bosom, the boy began to think that his shot had disposed of his foe.