CHAPTER XXII.
MOVING THE CAMP.
Much downcast by his failure to secure the sheriff's aid, Charley made his way to the building where most of the lawyers of the county had their offices. Selecting one of the offices at random, for he knew none of the lawyers, even by reputation, he opened the door and entered. He found himself face to face with a bright, alert, keen-eyed young man, who greeted him pleasantly, and invited him to be seated. Briefly he stated his errand and retold the tale he had told the sheriff.
The young lawyer listened with deepest interest, and at the end of it exclaimed boyishly:
"By Jove, this is an interesting case. I wouldn't miss a chance to handle it for a hundred dollars. I was a detective before I was a lawyer, and the lure of mystery always appeals to me. There is certainly enough mystery in this case of yours to satisfy anyone. I will have to think it over carefully, and look up some features of it, before I can be of any help to you. I will be busy to-day, for I have a case coming up in Circuit Court, but to-morrow I will come out to your camp and look the ground over with you. I have a little auto of my own, and I will enjoy the trip out, even if nothing comes of it. I have always wanted to see that back country, and this will be a good chance to combine business with pleasure."
Charley left the friendly lawyer's office feeling more cheerful in having enlisted his aid. He reached the station just in time to catch the train for Jupiter, where he alighted half an hour later. The agent was watching for him, and immediately drew him to one side.
"I am afraid you are in for a rough time out at camp," he said; "that was the wickedest-looking bunch of men I ever saw in my life. There were twenty of them altogether. They were expected, too, for there were wagons waiting for them a little ways from the station, and they drove off immediately."
"I cannot even stop to thank you properly," Charley said, earnestly. "We cannot thank you enough for what you have done for us, anyway."
"That's all right," said the agent heartily, "I am pleased to have been of any assistance to you. But I will not keep you, for I know you are anxious to see how things are at camp. So-long, and good luck to you."
A minute later Charley was in the truck and driving out on the dirt road at a dangerous rate of speed, for before him he could see the sharp cut of wagon tires in the soft earth.
About three miles from camp the wagon tracks left the road, and, as far as the lad could see from the car, continued at a right angle to it. Somewhat relieved by this discovery, he reduced his speed and drove into camp at an easy gait.