CHAPTER IX

THE MAN OUTSIDE

“Sure you weren’t dreaming, Andy?” whispered Rob, in turn, as, having listened for a brief time, he failed to catch any unusual sound.

“Not a bit of it,” the other assured him. “I sat up and made certain of it before crawling out of my bunk. I tell you there _is_ somebody outside there, and he’s doing his best to get in, too.”

The night wind was sighing through the pinetops, Rob noticed. Could Andy’s imagination, excited by some dream, have conceived the idea that a would-be intruder was “fiddling” at the door, and endeavoring to find ingress? Rob was still undecided, but at the same time he considered it the part of wisdom to get out of his bunk and slip his feet into a pair of warm moccasins he always carried with him.

It was almost dark inside the long bunk cabin. The fire had died down, and even if there were still smouldering embers present the wooden screen hid them from sight.

Rob now became aware of the fact that Andy clutched something in his hands. The touch of cold metal told him it was a gun. This would indicate that the other fully believed what he asserted, and that some strange man was even then about to force an entrance into the cabin, possibly under the belief that no one was occupying the building at the time.

“There, did you hear that?” came again from the aroused Andy. “He’s trying one of the window shutters. Rob, I remember that several of them are kind of loose. When he strikes one of those he can get it open easily enough, and then what’s to hinder him pushing in the sash?”

“Well, there is something moving around out there, I do believe,” muttered Rob.

“Oh, I wonder if it could be Wolf come back!” said an awed voice close to them.

“Hello! Are you there, Tubby?” questioned Rob cautiously, for neither of them had noticed that they were crouching close to the bunk selected by the third member of the party. Tubby, chancing to awaken, must have heard them whispering.

“Yes, but could it be the dog, do you think, Rob?” asked the fat scout eagerly.

“That’s silly talk, Tubby,” Andy told him, so softly that his voice would not have carried any distance, and might never have been distinguished from that crooning night breeze that rustled the hemlocks and passed gently through the pinetops.

“Dogs couldn’t reach up and shake a shutter that stood five feet from the ground. It’s a man, that’s what; and we’d better figure on how we’re going to give him the surprise of his life, if he gets inside here.”

“Wait till I get my little hand electric torch,” said Rob, who often carried one of these useful articles about with him; indeed, any fellow who has handled such a neat little contraption in an emergency knows that they are worth their weight in silver every time.

The one Rob had was very diminutive; in fact, a “vest-pocket edition,” it was called; but upon pressing the button quite a strong ray would be thrown forward. He kept it handy when sleeping in the open.

“Tubby, get out of your bunk, and be ready to lend a hand,” ordered Rob. The one addressed hastened to do as he was told.

“Tell me what I’m to do, Rob,” he pleaded.

“Bring both your heads closer this way,” continued the leader. “Now, this is the scheme: Tubby, you creep over to the fire, and when you hear me call out throw that wooden screen down, and then as quick as you can get a handful of the fine tinder on the fire, so as to set up a blaze. Understand?”

Tubby said he did, and accordingly Rob went on further:

“Andy and myself will try to find out which window the man is going to creep through, and we’ll form a reception committee. When I turn on the light, you, Andy, be sure to cover him with your gun, ready to shoot if he attacks us. Get that, do you?”

On his part Andy assured the chief that he understood perfectly.

“Well, then,” concluded Rob, “all I want to say is that after Tubby sees the fire begin to pick up he is to dart over and get my gun here, with which he, too, will proceed to cover the intruder. That’s all. Now get busy, boys. Andy, come with me, and be careful not to strike your gun against anything so as to alarm him. Tubby, head over to the fireplace, and be ready to act!”

It was intensely exciting, Tubby thought, as he managed to cross to the end of the long bunk-house, where the yawning fireplace stood—the same gaping aperture down which that bobcat had dropped, and up which he had also climbed with such fatal alacrity later on, when dispossessed by reason of the acrid smoke fumigation.

Reaching the place assigned to him, Tubby felt of the wooden screen. He found that it would only require a smart push to send it flat, after which he could turn his attention to snatching up some of the fine dry tinder which had been arranged in a little pile close by; and as Tubby had paid more attention to the cooking than any one else, he ought to know to a dot where to find this “fire-starter.”

Meanwhile, Rob and Andy had started to creep along close to the side of the log cabin wall. Rob was heading directly toward the spot where he had distinctly heard the last suspicious sound. If the prowler without had found that shutter fast he would just as likely as not examine the next one, and keep trying until he ran upon a damaged wooden cover which the winds had banged back and forth until it could no longer do full duty.

Yes, there was some one shaking the next shutter which had been used to keep the drifting snow out when the loggers were in camp during the long winter months. As the two boys crept closer they could hear a grumbling sound, just such as might proceed from a disappointed man who was being continually baffled in his efforts to force an entrance.

Rob had been thinking as he moved, and several possibilities had in turn taken possession of his active mind. Could this be Uncle George himself, come back to the abandoned logging camp, and who upon finding the door barred from within, was now trying to gain an entrance? At first Rob rather favored this idea, but he quickly realized how slender a hold it had in the way of plausible facts.

In the first place the sportsman would hardly come back minus his Indian guide, unless Sebattis, too, had proven false, and had to be sent flying like Zeb Crooks. Then, again, if he suspected that some passing hunters were occupying the bunk-house, having accepted the invitation to enter and make themselves at home, why should not Uncle George call out and ask them to open the door to him? No, there was something much more suggestive and suspicious about this event than the return of the mighty Nimrod. This unknown party did not suspect that the cabin was occupied; he meant to get in, perhaps to make free with the property left there by Uncle George.

In a word, Rob was more than half convinced already that he knew who the man outside, fumbling with the various wooden shutters, must be—no other than that same Zeb Crooks, who possibly had come sneaking back, knowing the intention of his former employer to leave the camp unprotected for a few days—come back to rob the place of anything valuable that he could find and sequester.

Rob did not bother trying to communicate this to Andy, for there was no need, and it would hardly have been politic, with the man outside so close to them. He was now at the next window, and Rob believed that the crisis was at hand, for the man gave a satisfied grunt as though things were finally working to suit his purposes.

So he nudged Andy, as if to warn him to be on the alert, though truth to tell there was little need of this, for the other scout was fully aroused every second of the time, with his gun clutched in nervous hands ready to do his duty when the call came.

Yes, the window was being shoved back now, and the man still muttered to himself. One thing sure, he never dreamed that the cabin had occupants, though how the door came to be fastened on the inside must have puzzled him somewhat.

The eyes of the boys had become so used to the semi-darkness that they were able to fairly make out the window, once the shutter had been drawn back. They could also see some sort of movement there. Having given the swinging sash a push that sent it inward, the man was now thrusting his head and shoulders through the small opening.

Rob knew the difficulties attending such an awkward entrance. He felt almost certain that the party, even if not clumsy in his movements, would likely tumble to the puncheon floor when he finally gave the last push. That was the very moment Rob figured on springing his surprise. The man would be caught unawares, and least able to defend himself or spring at them.

When he heard a scuffling sound, and saw the window no longer obstructed by a dark form, Rob knew the crisis was upon them.