CHAPTER XXI.

ON THE TRAIL.

Tom Smith looked as though he were himself rather pleased over his find. Thad had an idea that the swamp guide had been basing a part of his plans on some theory he had formed; and was tickled to discover how well it had turned out.

Under his directions a guard was also set over the boat, with orders to remain in hiding, but constantly ready to spring upon the hunted party, in case he should manage to elude the main body, and make his way to the secret hiding-place of his boat, with the intention of fleeing from the swamp.

And when all these little arrangements had been completed, Tom Smith passed to the other side of the sedge grass, and showed them what seemed to be a sure-enough trail, leading directly into the scrub, and undoubtedly only recently made.

“Wait up for just a minute or so, will you, Tom?” said Thad; and while the boy did not go further in order to explain what he wished to do, when the other scouts saw him move hastily along, and drop down on his hands and knees beside the trail, somehow they just seemed to instinctively guess what was in his mind and heart.

Thad was looking for the track of _little feet_ there; such as would betray the fact that a child had accompanied the man when he passed to and fro from the boat to the secret hiding-place!

All of them fairly held their breath while waiting to hear the result of the scout-master’s investigation. They knew what his ability was in the line of reading “signs,” and felt no hesitation about believing that if any one present could discover the impression of the girl’s shoes in the soil, Thad would.

He got up presently, and those who had seen him almost tenderly touch the ground in certain places with his hand, knew before he said a word that his search had certainly met with abundant success.

“Yes, he has the girl along with him,” Thad went on to say, softly, noticing the anxious faces of his chums; “and so far as that goes, the story that was sent up North was true. But then, we will have to wait a little before we know whether she is really his daughter or—little Polly!” and his voice was very tender as he just softly breathed that name which had been almost constantly in his mind of late.

The sheriff had drawn near the guide, and seemed desirous of learning something more about the expected hiding-place of the fugitive from justice; and thus having his hands doubly strengthened for the anticipated fray.

“Tell us a leetle more about it, Tom,” he urged; “how did ye ever come to think Jasper he’d be a keepin’ undeh cover heah; and what does it look like? We-all ain’t agoin’ to get a chanct to talk agin, I reckons, an’ let it all be said an’ done now.”

The guide did not seem to be unwilling to rest a bit before starting out on the last leg of the “closing-in” process. And no doubt he quite agreed with the sheriff in what the other said about the man who was forewarned being doubly armed.

“Why, yuh see, Shurff,” he began, softly, “I done took consid’able int’rest in everything ’bout this heah ole swamp; an’ when I fust cotch theh story ’bout theh Jasper fambly, I investigates, an’ larns how a cupple o’ theh boys used tuh hide out in the swamp days at a time, when theh ole man he was riled at ’em, an’ nobody ever cud find out whar they stayed.”

“I see that same just got your spunk up,” remarked the officer with a grin, “and ye was detarmined ye’d find it out fo’ y’self, eh, Tom?”

“W’ich I did afore I was satisfied,” continued the other, “an’ we’en I larned as how a Jasper hed kim back, tuh disappear like to Alligator Swamp, w’y, don’t yuh see, I jest nat’rally concludes as how he must be one o’ them as used to play hide an’ seek thar. So I reckons I’d know whar tuh find theh same; an’ arter runnin’ acrost that ole boat whar we did, I hain’t any doubts ’bout hit. He’s thar, as sure’s my name’s Thomas Beauregarde Smith.”

“But tell us somethin’ about the nest, now,” urged the sheriff.

“This heah trail’ll lead us plumb thar, see if she don’t,” remarked the guide, wagging his head with conviction. “Yuh see, tuh git tuh the place it’s fust necessary tuh cross a big bed o’ muck whar a sunken ridge lies. I had tuh _feel_ my way acrost mighty keerful; ’cause if yuh takes a wrong step chances are yuh’ll be up tuh yuh waist in mud; an’ if so be thar hain’t nobody ’round thet section tuh lend yuh a helpin’ hand yuh kin make up yuh mind it’s the end. I seen quicksand sum in my time, but they ain’t a sarkimstance alongside that muck fo’ suckin’ yuh in.”

Bumpus tightened his fists as he heard this stated. He seemed to have a sudden inspiration, or fear, and it was to the effect that if any single person in all that host were unlucky enough to slip from that concealed ledge, and test the depth of that muck bed, he would be the wretched victim—was it not always the case that he had to play the part of the “goat” in any performance?

“But once over thet bad part an’ the rest is easy sailin’, Shurff,” the guide went on to say, confidently, “fo’ yuh see, they’s a sorter wooded island thar; an’ outside o’ them Jasper boys an’ me, I done reckon as how nobody ever did find theh way tuh git oveh thar. All I asks yuh is tuh keep right still till we kin kinder s’round theh shack an’ s’prise him!”

“Then there is some sort of house, is there?” asked Thad, thinking again of the little girl, and what a cover over her head might mean in wet weather.

“I allow as thar be, suh; leastwise ’twar thar w’en I larst been oveh. You see, it happens as how the ’gators they don’t use thet island, frum sum cause er other, an’ so I neveh keered tuh stay thar any time; so it’s ben sum yeahs sense larst I crossed. But I hain’t forgot theh way, I reckons, an’ I’ll guide yuh thar, safe an’ sound.”

“Glad to heah ye say that, Tom,” remarked the sheriff: “and fo’ the sake of this heah fine boy I sure hopes that we’ll find his sister, too.”

“Well,” remarked Thad, turning his eyes toward the officer, with a feeling of gratitude in that Fortune had raised up such a sympathetic friend just when they were in need of help; “you can be certain that I’m hoping all the while the same way. When we get back to town I’ll find letters there from my uncle, and begging me to wire him how it has come out; and I trust that the news I send will be just the one word: ‘Found!’”

“And as for me,” Bumpus was heard to say, softly, “I’m also hoping to get a letter in answer to the one I wrote my ma on the way down, asking her if I’d delivered that medicine she sent me for. Hope to goodness the answer is ‘yes,’ because it’ll be a turrible load off my mind.”

“Five cents’ worth of worry, and you’d think it spelt ten thousand dollars!” jeered Giraffe; but he was careful to say this in the ear of the stout scout, for he did not want Thad to know he was still keeping up this badgering process.

“I don’t care for the amount, and you know that,” said Bumpus, in an irritable fashion that was strange for him, but might be laid to the cold in the head from which he had now been suffering for several days; “it’s just the _principle_ of the thing that hurts me. My honor as a scout is in question. I hate to think of having failed the only mother I’ve got, when she trusted and depended on me. Get that, do you, Giraffe?”

“Oh! sure, only how many mothers would you expect to have?” the other went on; but Bumpus, having had his say, relapsed into a dignified silence.

Thad had taken his position alongside the guide when they started out again. As they now had a trail to follow there was no longer any necessity for depending on the knowledge of Tom Smith, and his broad acquaintance with the intricacies of the swamp. Left to themselves the scouts could have easily carried the expedition safely along from this point; for they were well versed in the secrets of woodcraft.

And as he walked along by the side of Alligator Smith the scout-master kept his fond gaze fastened, a part of the time, upon every fresh indentation of those heels belonging to the shoes of the girl who was in the company of the fugitive, Jasper.

What hopes and fears must be passing constantly through the mind of Thad as he contemplated those dainty footprints. Many and many a time had he yearned to be as well off as some of his chums, in the way of having some one near and dear to him, whom he could love and protect; and now that there seemed a possible chance of a little sister being miraculously given to him through the working of Fate, the boy could hardly believe that he was not dreaming.

At the same time he did not forget his scout schooling, and that he must always be on the alert. So from time to time he would take his eyes away from the faint trail ahead, to scan the bushes, and seek for any sign that might spell danger.

When a lesson has been well learned it soon becomes what might be called “second nature;” and so Thad, even in the present excited condition of his mind, could not help acting as he believed a sagacious scout should when on duty, and following in the wake of a dangerous man.

Perhaps it was a good thing he kept himself on the alert, for while Tom Smith was a woodsman, and might have seen what attracted the attention of the scout-master, there could be no telling. And had it not been discovered, they might have found what Giraffe would call “rougher sledding” later on.

They happened to be in a particularly thick patch of scrub and woodland where Thad felt more than half convinced that if the fugitive had thought to lay any sort of trap the springing of which would give him warning of the coming of enemies he must have chosen this place; when he made a little discovery that caused him to instantly clutch the arm of Tom Smith, and say softly:

“Hold on!”

Others of the party gripped their guns, and looked eagerly around, under the impression that Thad must have sighted a hovering figure back of some tree; and no doubt half expecting to hear the crash of a gun break the silence that hung over the spot. But nothing of the kind came to pass. Instead, Thad drew the guide several steps along, and then pointed to the brush close at their feet.

“Well, what d’ye think of that?” Bumpus remarked, as he pushed forward the better to see; “if he hasn’t put an old rope across the path just to trip us up, and make all the trouble he can.”

Giraffe looked scornfully at the fat scout.

“Think so, do you, Bumpus?” he remarked, with a lofty sense of his own sagacity. “Well, if you happened to trip over that same rope, chances are now you’d hear a gun go off. P’raps the load _might_ miss you, though I don’t see how anything could do that; but all the same, the bang of the gun’d tell Mr. Jasper it was time he took to the woods, and ran like a scared rabbit. So you see what Thad’s shut off by his find.”