CHAPTER XIII

In the Grip of the Storm

For a few moments the boys from the cabin camp watched the Rake Island boys walk across the ice, and then Barry turned away. “Come on,” he said. “We haven’t time to stand around idle. Remember that we want to move today, and already we have spent a good part of the morning.”

The other followed him, and they started back to the camp. “We’ve learned something, anyway,” Kent remarked.

“Yes, it was the Wolf bunch that was shot at,” Mac nodded.

“Still, we’re just as much as ever in the dark as to who did the shooting,” Tim reminded them.

“It looks to me as though whoever did the shooting did it to scare them off,” said Barry. “They weren’t hit and didn’t say anything about the shots going overhead. I guess that crowd didn’t have anything to do with taking our sled.”

“For a while I thought that they did,” confessed Kent. “But evidently they didn’t know anything about it. Somebody keeps mighty close tabs on the lodge and even objects when anybody sits on the front porch.”

“What will they do when we go to live in the place?” Barry asked.

“They may make it warm for us,” Tim suggested. “So far we have been living in the Bronson cabin, and they haven’t done any more than steal our sled and throw it into a ravine. But now we are moving up on the ghost, and maybe things will get lively.”

“Scared?” Mac asked.

“No, but I believe we ought to be prepared for action.”

“We will be,” Barry agreed. “Perhaps we ought to take turns staying up at night and keeping a strict watch. I have an idea that some dangerous criminal is operating around that lodge.”

“I wonder if there are any counterfeiters making money anywhere in the neighborhood,” Mac mused.

“It may be,” Barry admitted. “Whatever they are, someone doesn’t want anybody to hang around the lodge. We’ll just have to show them that we intend to stay there.”

“That’s the talk!” Kent approved.

Still discussing the things nearest their minds, the boys arrived at the cabin close to dinner time. After some thought they decided to postpone their moving until the afternoon.

“Tim and I can move the things over, if you and Kent want to go to Fox Point,” Mac told Barry.

“I ought to go mail my letter,” Barry said. “And we need some things from the store there, kerosene in particular. Our lantern is about empty, and we’ll want some oil for the lamps in the lodge.”

“Not to forget Mac’s sausage,” smiled Kent.

“It won’t take us any time to move our few things over there,” Tim said. “You boys go ahead, and we’ll manage the domestic affairs.”

This was agreed to, and after the midday meal Kent and Barry prepared to start out. They took the sled with them, but decided not to skate.

“That would be a couple of miles up the lake and then down the river,” Kent argued. “We can cut our distance by going through the woods.”

“The ice is almost covered with snow anyway,” observed Barry. “We can hike it as quickly as we could skate.”

Strapping the long kerosene oil container to the sled, they were ready to start out. The twins watched them from the door.

“If you come to a good hill, you can sit on the sled and coast down,” Mac grinned.

“That will be all right if you don’t run up against a stump,” Tim added.

Barry slipped the sled rope through his belt and they were off. “See you in our new quarters before long,” he called back.

“Have a warm fire by the time we get there,” Kent requested.

“Don’t forget coffee and butter!” Tim yelled.

“And sausage!” Mac whooped.

With a laugh and a reassuring wave the two boys with the sled entered the woods and were lost to sight.

Barry and Kent struck off in a southeasterly direction through the woods. They knew that Fox Point lay in that direction and were interested to see how near they would come to it. There was no definite path to follow, and so they wound around bluffs and between the trees, checking their course by a pocket compass. The forest was a fairly open one, and the trees stood well apart, making it easy to draw the sled. Underfoot the snow made a soft carpet.

The entire day had been a gloomy one, and the sky was gray and heavy, with a strong hint of snow in it. Darkness would come quickly, and the two boys were aware of the fact and determined to lose no time in making the trip.

“If we push on at a fast pace, we should be back at the lodge before it gets dark,” Kent said, as they crossed a brook and started up a hill slope.

“We won’t linger in the store,” Barry promised. “It will be dark earlier than usual tonight, and we’ll have to make a flying trip of it. I suppose we should have started out this morning.”

“I guess so, if we had wanted to take our time about it. Oh, well, I’m sure that we’ll make it all right. Beginning to snow, isn’t it?”

Kent was right. Lazy flakes of snow began to drift down through the trees, and when they reached the top of the hill they could see for some distance. In every direction the air was filled with softly falling flakes.

“If it doesn’t come down any harder than that, it won’t bother us any,” Kent remarked.

“Hard to tell about that,” his companion said. “Some pretty hard storms start out mildly. Those clouds above look to be full. However, we won’t borrow trouble until we have to.”

They crossed a somewhat thicker section of timber and came to the top of another rise of ground. Barry pointed ahead of them.

“See that church steeple? I believe that is Fox Point.”

“If it is, we’ve hit it pretty well. It won’t be long before we know for certain.”

They set off once more and before long came to the edge of the woods and saw the little crossroads village of Fox Point before them. A few houses, a general store, and a church and school building made up the tiny country village. The boys went at once to the store and, leaving the sled outside, were soon warming their hands at the big iron stove in the center of the store.

Then Barry began to order supplies, and Kent wandered to the window, looking down into the road. Presently he called to his companion.

“I wonder if that is the French couple that Mac and Tim saw?”

Barry joined him at the window and looked down. Two horses were tied to a railing at a water trough which was empty, and as the boys looked out at the scene, a man and woman got on the horses. Barry recognized the man at once.

“Yes, that is the fellow who came into our camp that morning,” he said.

Filled with curiosity, the storekeeper came over and joined them at the window. The boys watched the French couple ride off and enter a path that led into the woods below the town.

“Those people been around these parts a few days,” the owner of the store confided. “You acquainted with them?”

“No, but early one morning the man was standing looking over our camp,” Barry told him. “Two of our friends visited them in their camp once, but we don’t know anything about them. Do you?”

The storekeeper went around the counter and began to tie up packages. “I know they are mighty mysterious people. Won’t say who they are or what they want. The other night they come in the store and I asked them what I could do for them. Said they didn’t want nothin’ but to wait for somebody. Pretty soon a car come along and blowed the horn outside and they went out to it, and that was the last I see of them until today. Nobody knows anything about ’em.”

“They didn’t have any rifles today,” Barry said to Kent, when the storekeeper had moved off.

“I noticed that. They must have settled somewhere to stay.” Kent chuckled. “I’ll bet it hurts these people not to know what they are doing here.”

The packages were soon ready, and the boys took them out and tied them in place. Over the top they spread the canvas to keep the snow out, and then they were ready. Barry looked around and then shook his head.

“It is beginning to snow harder and faster,” he said. “We’ll have to step right along.”

Leaving Fox Point behind them, the two boys started off through the woods toward Bluff Lodge, striding along as fast as they could. The snow was coming down hard, and before they had gone two miles it was blinding. The two chums said very little, but both of them were apprehensive as the sky grew darker and the whirling flakes more bewildering. Their clothing became white.

“We got into a good one this time,” Barry called to Kent, as they rounded a high rocky ledge.

“You’re right! Say, did we pass that ledge on the way to Fox Point?”

“I think so. Hang it all, I can hardly see anything.”

They pressed on, picturing the twins in the lodge with a warm and glowing fire to welcome them. The loaded sled was a trifle heavy owing to the opposition of the increasing depth of snow, and they relieved each other frequently.

They had traveled on for over a half-hour, peering through the storm and almost feeling their way, when Kent stopped and pointed.

“Look! There is that same ledge. We’ve come around in a complete circle!”

Barry nodded bitterly. “We have. I hate to admit it, but we’re just lost! And if you ask me, we’ve managed to get lost at a mighty serious time!”