CHAPTER XXVI.

THE UNSUCCESSFUL PURSUIT.

The other members of the Zero Club could hardly believe their ears. “Pete Sully!” they cried in unison. “You must be mistaken.”

“No; I saw him as plain as day,” returned Jack, with a decided nod of his head.

“Then the three must be Sully, Bill Dixon and Len Spencer!” cried Harry, quickly. “What will you bet they haven’t followed us from Rudskill to start up a rival camp? I knew they envied our going away.”

“Harry has dun struck it,” put in Pickles. “Didn’t I hear dat Pete Sully sayin’ to Spencer dat he wasn’t gwine to be beat by dat Harry Webb’s crowd?”

“And I’ll bet that explains the ghost, too,” put in Andy. “They were trying to scare us away from our camp.”

“But they must have come up here first,” commented Harry, slowly.

“They could do that. Perhaps they took the train to Rudd’s Landing, or maybe they came direct to Bagsville instead of up the river. That would give them plenty of time to settle down here before finding our camp.”

“Who is these air boys yeou be talkin’ about?” put in one of the farmers, impatiently.

In a few words Harry explained about the bully of the town and his friends. The farmers listened to as much as they wished to hear, and then one of them suddenly cut him short.

“Ain’t no more time tew talk; let’s go arfter ’em,” he said. “Come on!”

He grabbed his gun and made off through the snow, and one after another the boys and men followed, only one farmer and Pickles remaining behind, to watch the horses and the traps.

The pursuing party were soon at the rocks behind which Pete Sully had been seen. Here not only one set of tracks, but three, were visible, showing that the trio were together.

The tracks led in a zigzag fashion through the woods, testifying to the fact that in their alarm and fright the plunderers had dashed away without knowing what direction to pursue. Evidently, they had in some manner learned what had happened, and were completely demoralized by their discovery.

After leaving the woods, the tracks led across a deep ravine, and then down to a large pond at the lower end of which was a creek, which the farmers said emptied into Rock Island Lake. Here on the clear ice the trail was lost in the darkness, and could not be found again.

“No use to hunt further,” said one of the farmers. “Let us go back.”

The boys were willing, and the return to the brush near the lean-to was at once begun. It was now quite dark, and the farmers were in a hurry to get home.

“Folks be a-worryin’ abeout us,” said one of them to Harry. “We didn’t calkerlate to stay out so late.”

When the brush was reached the farmers mounted their horses and rode down to the lean-to. Here they overhauled the traps left by the owners of the place and took along all of the blankets and many of the other articles.

“If yeou see them fellers, tell ’em tew call on Ira Goodsell, or Dick Pomfett, in Bagsville Deestrict, fer their things,” chuckled one of the farmers to Jack. “If they don’t allow as how they care tew call, let ’em stay about in the cold without nuthin’ tew keep warm o’ nights, ha! ha! ha!”

And with a laugh all around, the four farmers bade the boys good-by and rode away as fast as their farm nags would carry them.

“That leaves Pete Sully and his followers in a nice stew, truly!” laughed Andy. “I wonder how long they will care to camp out without blankets or cooking utensils?”

“It serves them right!” burst out Boxy. “They had no business to go robbing hen roosts and get us into such a mess of trouble.”

“Not to mention the fact that they carted our stuff off,” put in Harry. “But they are paid off now.”

“And as we have our traps and full possession of their lean-to, we ought not to complain.”

“Maybe dey will cum down on us durin’ de night,” suggested Pickles.

“I hardly think so,” returned Jack. “However, perhaps we had better stand guard. We can take turns of an hour and a half each, from nine o’clock on.”

This was agreed to, and a little later they had made themselves at home in the lean-to and were busy preparing supper.

Pickles cooked the partridge to perfection, and this, with tea and crackers, made a very acceptable repast. All of the boys were worn out, and they did not remain awake long after they had finished and the dishes had been cleared away.

Jack took the first watch, with Pickles next. Then came Andy, who, in order to keep awake, walked outside and replenished the fire, and then kept on his feet.

Andy’s watch was nearly finished when he heard a crackling in the brush some distance to the left of the lean-to. He looked intently in the direction, and presently saw a pair of gleaming eyes bent full upon him.

The eyes were those of some wild animal, which had been attracted to the spot doubtless by the scent of the dead game. The animal uttered no sound, but continued to glare at Andy in a manner that caused the young boy’s blood to run cold.

The fascination of that look was so intense that Andy was for the time being transfixed to the spot. He stood motionless, making no movement toward getting his gun or arousing his sleeping companions.

The animal, apparently satisfied that there was no danger to be encountered, moved forward slowly, until its entire body was exposed in the glare of the campfire.

Then it again paused, and its short, powerful tail began to sweep quickly from side to side, as it prepared for a spring.

It was at this critical moment that Andy came to himself, and he let out a shriek that could have been heard for a quarter of a mile.

Whizz! the animal’s body sailed past the lad, who, as he shrieked, sprang back a pace or two, and landed close to the front of the lean-to, where hung several of the dead rabbits.

The long, white teeth were snapped together over the backs of two of the dead game, and then, with a leap to one side, the wild and half-famished animal vanished into the gloom behind the neighboring rocks, just as Jack and Harry, guns in hand, tumbled out to see what was the matter.

They found Andy leaning up beside the shelter, too faint to stand alone. For fully half a minute he could not speak, but pointed excitedly toward the rocks.

“A tiger, or wildcat, or something!” he gasped, at last. “Gone with the rabbits!”

“Can’t be a tiger!” returned Harry.

“I thought I saw a wildcat when we were in pursuit of Pete Sully and his crowd,” said Jack, quickly. “Let’s take a look.”

“Be careful!” exclaimed Andy, in wild alarm. “It’s the worst creature you ever saw! It nearly paralyzed me by a look!”

“They are awful!” put in Boxy, making his appearance, followed by Pickles. “I don’t want to have anything to do with it.”

But despite the protests of the others Jack and Harry insisted on going after the marauder. They looked to their guns and provided themselves with torches.

Their hunt lasted for nearly half an hour without success. Evidently the wildcat had taken itself off to its lair with its prey.

After that the boys slept with one eye open, and the one on guard held his gun in readiness for immediate use should the wildcat, or any other animal, put in an appearance. But this precaution was unnecessary, for the balance of the night passed without further interruption.

After breakfast the things were packed once more, and they started on the return to their own hut by the lake.

“I suppose if we wanted to be mean we could tear down their lean-to,” said Jack.

“Don’t touch it,” returned Harry. “The loss of their traps is punishment enough for them, to my way of thinking.”

So the shelter was left undisturbed, and soon the valley in which it was situated was left far behind.

It was no easy matter to find the way back to the lake, and dragging the heavily-laden sled over the uneven ground and the rocks was the hardest kind of work. They took turns at the job, and frequently stopped to rest.

“This shows how anxious those fellows were to spoil our outing,” remarked Jack, during a breathing spell. “The three must have had an everlasting hard time of it getting the traps to the lean-to.”

“I wonder what they will do, now their own things have been taken,” said Harry.

“Like as not they’ll have to go home in disgust,” said Boxy. “And that’s just what I hope they will do.”

“An’ we kin crow ober dem when we gits back!” chuckled Pickles.

And then the walk to the camp was resumed.