“Raikes, Raikes, come here.”
As soon as Bogle went to the door, Raikes and Sparwick caught a glimpse of the stranger. Both recognized him at once, for he had long been a familiar figure in the Maine woods.
“I hope Bogle will know how to deal with him,” muttered Sparwick.
“Trust Joe for that,” replied Raikes. “I reckon I’ll be needed in a minute. Suppose you attend to those lads yonder. They might make trouble and upset everything.”
Accordingly Sparwick crossed the room and sat down at the foot of the bed.
“The first one of you that utters a sound,” he whispered, savagely, “will get his face smashed. Mind that.”
Under these circumstances, the boys were helpless. With tantalizing emotions they listened to the audible conversation outside. They heard Raikes summoned, and saw him hurriedly leave the cabin.
The next instant Bogle entered. He snatched up a lantern and a pair of gloves.
“That’s right, Sparwick,” he whispered. “Don’t let those chaps utter a sound. So far we’re all right. Raikes will be back in a minute.”
Then he left the cabin and closed the door tightly.