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The Gun Club Boys of Lakeport

Год написания книги
2017
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They had now to force their way through some short undergrowth and then cross a small stream, which in the summer time flowed into the lake. The stream was now a solid mass of ice.

“The house is just beyond yonder belt of trees,” said Joel Runnell, at last. “You had better stay here while I investigate.”

“Let us go a little closer and hide behind the nearest trees,” suggested Joe, and after a few words this was done.

With his gun over his shoulder Joel Runnell continued to advance until he was crossing the small clearing directly in front of the house, which was an old affair, a story and a half high, and containing but four rooms. The place looked to be closed and deserted.

“Hullo, Ike Slosson,” sang out the old hunter, when within fifty feet of the doorway. “Hullo, I say!”

Scarcely had he called out when there was a commotion in the house. He heard a shuffling of feet and some excited talking.

“Go away!” cried a high-pitched voice. “Go away, I say! I want no strangers around my house! Go away!”

CHAPTER XXVII

A PLAN FOR A CAPTURE

The words used were those which Ike Slosson had often uttered when folks of that neighborhood came around his house and he did not wish to entertain them. As Joel Runnell had said, the old man was very peculiar and at times he refused utterly to see even those he knew to be his friends. For strangers he had no welcome whatever. He knew old Runnell, however, and had treated him better than he had many another man. The hunter had once given him some fine rabbits and a partridge, and this had won Ike Slosson’s heart.

Joel Runnell halted, but did not retreat. The shuffling of several pairs of feet had not escaped his sharp ears, and now those ears told him that it was not Ike Slosson who was speaking, but somebody who was trying, in a crude manner, to imitate the hermit.

“I say, go away!” came in the same voice. “I want no strangers here.”

“Whose place is this?” asked old Runnell, calmly.

“It is my place, and I want you to go away, or I’ll set the dog on you.”

This reply made Joel Runnell smile to himself, for he knew very well that Ike Slosson despised dogs and would never have one near him.

“Who are you?”

“Never mind who I am. I want you to go away.”

“Won’t you sell me a supper?”

“No. I have hardly enough for myself.”

“I’ll pay you well.”

“Can’t help it. I have nothing to sell. Now go away, or I’ll put out the dog.”

“Don’t send out your dog; I’ll go,” cried Joel Runnell, in pretended alarm, and then turning, he made his way to the shelter of the trees.

“How did you make out?” whispered Joe.

“Hush! don’t speak,” said the old hunter, warningly. “Crawl back, or somebody may see you.”

The boys moved to a safe place, and then clustered around the old hunter for information. Joel Runnell was chuckling quietly to himself.

“Thought they’d play a joke on me, didn’t they?” he said. “But I’ll soon have the boot on the other leg.”

“What do you mean?” asked Harry.

The old hunter then told of what had been said. “It wasn’t Ike Slosson who was speaking at all,” he added. “It was some other man, and his voice was thick with liquor. I’ve a notion those fellows have done something to Slosson and taken possession of his house and all of his goods and money.”

“Can they have killed the old man?” asked Link, in quick alarm.

Joel Runnell shrugged his shoulders. “There is no telling.”

“Let us rush out, surround the house, and capture the rascals,” came from Bart.

“Hurrah!” shouted Teddy, enthusiastically. “Sure an’ we’ll have a regular Donnybrook Fair, such as me father often tells about.”

“No! no!” answered old Runnell. “Some of you would be sure to get shot or hurt in some way.”

“But we came for the express purpose of catching those tramps,” cried Joe. “I’m not afraid to tackle them.”

“We are seven to three,” said Fred. “Perhaps they’ll surrender, when they see how many there are of us.”

“Not if they have done something to Ike Slosson, lad. They’ll fight hard to get away. I have another plan. Five of us can watch the house while the other two tramp to the nearest village and get some officers. Then we can pounce on ’em while they are asleep.”

This was considered excellent advice, and it was speedily decided that Harry and Bart were to go to the village of Bralham, two miles away. The others were to surround the house and keep a close watch so that none of those inside could escape.

The sun had now set and it was quite dark by the time Harry and Bart struck the road leading to Bralham, a place consisting of half a dozen houses, a store and a grist mill. What help they could muster at such a place was still a question.

“Perhaps nobody will care to take hold with us,” observed Harry, as they trudged along. “Some of these country constables are mighty afraid of their hides, when it comes to catching a criminal.”

There was no moon, but countless stars shone in the dear sky, making the path fairly light. All was very quiet, until directly over their heads an owl let out a mournful hoot.

“Oh!” cried Bart, and leaped back several feet. “What was that?”

“An owl,” answered Harry, with a laugh.

“How he scared me.”

They could not see the owl, or Bart might have taken a shot at the creature. The scare made the lad nervous, and he trembled a little as they continued on their journey.

“I don’t know as I should care to walk this road alone at night,” he said. “I am glad we live in the town and not out in the country or in the woods.”

“I fancy it is what one gets used to, Bart. I’ve heard it said a countryman can’t sleep in the city for the noise, and some city folks can’t sleep in the country because it’s too quiet.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that, too. But I think – Oh, my, what was that?”

Both boys halted as some dark object passed across the road a couple of rods in front of them. What the object was they could not discern.

“I guess it was a rabbit or else a fox,” said Harry, as lightly as he could. “Come on.”

“Could it have been a – a bear?”

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