CHAPTER XXV.

"CATCHING A TARTAR;" AND A FAT ONE AT THAT.

They had little trouble moving along now.

Somehow, it seemed as though the eyes of Step Hen and Giraffe must be getting more accustomed to the way obstacles could be avoided; or else the woods had become a little more open. At any rate they stumbled not at all now, which would seem to be a lucky thing, because all the while they were constantly drawing closer to the fire.

Thad and Allan knew they had need of caution. Those two precious rogues of timber spies were roaming this region with the intention of locating patches of valuable trees near enough to a stream to be felled, and floated down by the next Spring freshet. They were on Government land, and their rich but unscrupulous employers had been long engaged in this form of robbery, by which the reservations lose many millions of feet of fine lumber every year.

And such men, knowing that their work is evil, and that they are constantly breaking the law, suspect every stranger of being a Government spy. No wonder then they showed dislike at the mere mention of the name of Toby Smathers, who was a forest ranger, at times in the employ of the Washington authorities, and always on the lookout for the operations of timber thieves.

Thad could see some one moving about. This happened when the other chanced to come between himself and the fire.

"I do believe that's our chum, Bumpus;" whispered Giraffe, eagerly, showing that he too had been watching the figure.

They all used their eyes to advantage, as they cautiously crept along. Presently they would have gained a point so near the fire that it would be necessary for them to change their mode of locomotion. Instead of walking, even as they were doing now, in a bent-over attitude, they must get down on all fours, and creep, just as a panther would do when approaching a feeding deer which he hoped to pounce upon unawares.

It was one of the most exciting and thrilling moments in the lives of Step Hen and Giraffe. Possibly they could not conceive of anything more typical of what must go hand in hand with scouting business, than this creeping through the woods, and constantly drawing closer and closer to a fire, about which enemies would most likely be seated, all unaware of their presence.

They felt proud of the manner in which they were accomplishing these things. It reflected great credit upon their ability as scouts.

Nearer they crawled.

Why, Allan was actually down on his stomach now, and he seemed to "wiggle" along just as they had seen an angle worm do, or a snake. Yes, and there was Thad copying the example of the expert Maine boy.

It would seem to be up to Giraffe and Step Hen to do likewise. They were quick to learn, once they had a pattern to go by. And in another minute the whole four of the scouts lay fully extended on the ground, clawing their way along as best they might; satisfied to advance, even though it be inches at a time.

There was no longer any doubt in connection with what might be going on just beyond. Even Giraffe and Step Hen understood it now.

First of all they saw the lost tenderfoot; and it did them great good just to feast their eyes upon the portly figure of Bumpus, after all this searching for him, day after day.

Then there were Hank and Pierre, too, just as hulking, and ugly as ever, or even more so.

The two timber cruisers were evidently taking their ease, stretched out at full length, smoking their pipes. Something about the very air of the men would have told an observer that they were enjoying the novelty of being waited on. It was not often that Hank and Pierre knew the luxury of having a "slave" along, to humor their every little whim; and they were apparently bent on making the most out of the opportunity.

Evidently Bumpus was aware of the fact that he might look upon himself as a servant, for the time being. His dejected manner, as he sat there, gnawing at some bones they had evidently allowed him to have, after he had cooked supper, and waited on his captors, seemed to tell this only too plainly.

Even as the four scouts lay there and looked, they heard Hank call out gruffly:

"Come here, younker!"

Bumpus pretended not to hear at first. Evidently he dreaded to get too close to the men, for some reason or other.

At that Hank burst out into a string of profanity that was enough to make any respectable scout shudder. And when he ordered Bumpus again to come over to him, the fat boy evidently dared no longer pretend deafness.

He approached the spot where the two men half sat; and Thad could see from the wary manner in which Bumpus did this that he expected rough treatment.

"Git me a coal outen the fire, you fat fool; my pipe's gone out again!"

Hank said this in the ugliest way possible. Indeed, to judge from his manner, one might even imagine it was the fault of poor Bumpus that his pipe had ceased to burn, instead of his own laziness.

Bumpus forthwith stepped over to the near-by fire. As he bent over, he looked cautiously behind him once or twice, just as though the poor fellow half expected to have one of his tormentors kick him, and he did not want to have such a thing happen so that he would plunge in among the burning wood.

Securing a brand that was suitable for the purpose, Bumpus advanced toward the two men. He handed this to Hank.

"Stand thar!" ordered the bully, as Bumpus was edging away.

Applying the light to his pipe, Hank sent out several puffs of smoke. Then, just as a smoker might wish to extinguish his match before throwing it away, he suddenly hurled the blazing torch after the now retreating Bumpus. That worthy tried to dodge, but was either too clumsy, or else Hank had made allowances for this. At any rate, the brand struck Bumpus squarely in the middle of his fat back; and while it did not set his clothes on fire, at least it forced a grunt from the scout.

Hank burst out into a harsh laugh, while Pierre grinned. Then they went on talking as though regardless of the presence of the boy.

Thad had felt Giraffe quiver beside him when he saw Bumpus abused and insulted in this fashion.

And only for Hank giving that laugh, one of the men might have heard the gritting of Giraffe's strong teeth, he was that worked up.

"Sh!" hissed the scoutmaster, close to the other's ear; and Giraffe subsided, though he was still quivering all over from excitement and eagerness,--yes and anger too. If he could only have had his way right then and there, Giraffe undoubtedly would have stepped out, and covering the two rascals with his gun, threatened to shoot unless they abjectly surrendered. And this time they would not get off as easily as before. After the way they had treated Bumpus, they deserved something more severe.

But then Thad evidently was not quite ready to act. Perhaps he wanted to see what else Hank and his timber mate might do. Perhaps--but Giraffe concluded that it was foolish trying to figure these things out, when all he had to do in order to learn the truth, was to possess his soul in patience and wait.

Bumpus, true to his new scout training, even while he was listening to the laughter of his tormentor, and rubbing his back where the fire-brand had struck him with such a thump; turned, and deliberately put his foot upon the blaze, grinding it into the earth until it was utterly extinguished.

It was really one of the most surprising examples of newly-acquired discipline that Thad had even seen. Nor would he soon forget it.

Bumpus was apparently watching the two men on the sly. When he thought they were not looking, the fat scout quickly bent over near a tree.

Thad had quite a thrill, for he saw that the two guns owned by the men stood against this same tree. Whatever could Bumpus be doing there? Again and again did he turn his head to glance toward Hank and Pierre, just as though he might be afraid that one of them could see him. But Hank was telling a story of some kind, evidently, for the rumble of his heavy voice seemed continuous; while Pierre lay on his back, both hands under his head, listening, and smoking in a lazy fashion.

Now Bumpus had quitted the vicinity of the tree, and hovered on the other side of the fire. He craned his neck several times, just as though he wanted to make sure of something.

Thad believed he knew what that _something_ was. He had discovered, close alongside the burly figure of Hank, the ten-guaged, Marlin, double-barreled gun belonging to Bumpus. Evidently the bully had confiscated the weapon, and meant to keep it, as something that might come in handy.

Now, Bumpus was a poor loser. He had grown to feel quite attached to that remarkable gun, during the short period of his ownership. And doubtless it had become more precious in his sight, after the clever way in which it had worked of late, with regard to that wildcat; and later on the lame grizzly that had treed Bumpus.

Thad believed he had designs on that gun.

Just then Hank called out again.

"Git a kettle o' water at the spring, younker, an' bring me a drink! Be quick, now, er I'll skin ye alive!"

Bumpus picked up a kettle or saucepan, the only one in sight, and of generous proportions. As Hank roared at him to "dip deep, and bring her full, enough for a grown man," the fat scout hastened to do so.

He approached, holding the kettle with both hands. Hank half sat up, to receive it; which he certainly did, full in the face. As spluttering he started to get, first to his knees and then on his feet, Bumpus, with an agility that was remarkable in one of his stout build, snatched up his trusty Marlin from the ground, and hastened to put some little space between himself and the astonished timber cruisers, already jumping toward the tree where their guns stood.

"'Tain't no use!" shouted Bumpus, gleefully. "I took every cartridge out, and you bet I ain't agoin' to let you shove any more in. Sit down now, or I'll open fire on you!"