“It don’t matter which one of you goes,” he replied, carelessly. “Come on, youngster, if the rest are willing.”
Jerry and Hamp had no objections to offer. They knew that Brick was eager for the chase, and they saw no reason why he should not accept the friendly offer of the two genial strangers. It was his money and his watch that were at stake.
Brick filled his belt with fresh cartridges, and shouldered his rifle. Then he started briskly down stream with Raikes and Bogle.
As soon as they rounded the bend, the party found the channel frozen tightly from shore to shore. They crossed over and went up the other side. They soon found Sparwick’s trail, leading off from the Mallowgash at a right angle. After apprising Jerry and Hamp of this fact by a shrill whistle—the signal agreed upon—they took up the chase.
For a mile they pushed on through heavy forest and rocks. The men went at a rapid pace, and Brick easily kept up with them.
“We’ll overhaul the rascal before long,” assured Raikes. “You’ll get back to your companions in time for dinner.”
But at the end of another mile Sparwick was still invisible; nor did the scant-marks of his snowshoes appear to be particularly fresh. He evidently suspected pursuit, and was moving at his top speed.
Presently the trail turned due north. During the next half hour the pursuers caught an occasional glimpse of Chesumcook Lake from high ground. They pushed steadily on, until Brick began to feel a little weary. He admitted as much to his companions.
“Don’t give up yet, my lad,” said Raikes. “Now that you’ve come this far, you may as well finish. The rascal can’t keep ahead of us long.”
“And when we get your watch and money, we’ll take you part of the way back,” added Bogle.