By this time the wildcat was close to Dick, and now, watching its opportunity, it leaped upon the youth, trying to bury its claws in Dick's shoulder.

Hardly knowing what to do, Dick brought around the gun barrel and poked it into the open mouth of the wildcat. With a gurgle of pain the beast fell back, but quickly gathered itself for another leap.

"Back!" shouted John Barrow. "Back, and let me git a shot at the critter!"

Dick was perfectly willing to retreat, and started to do so. But the wildcat was too quick for him, and in a twinkle youth and beast were down on the ground together, and the wildcat was trying to reach the boy's throat with its cruel fangs!



CHAPTER XX.

BEAR POND AT LAST.

It was indeed a moment of supreme peril, and Dick felt very much as if his last moment on earth had come. He put out his hands mechanically and grabbed the wildcat by the throat, but his grip was poor and the beast shook itself clear with ease.

It was now that John Barrow showed himself to be a master of quick resources. To fire his rifle at the wildcat would have meant taking the risk of hitting Dick, and this the guide thought too perilous. Leaping to the fire, he caught up a long, burning brand and rushed at the beast with this.

To have a part of the fire thrust directly into its eyes was more than the beast had bargained for, and as soon as it felt the flame it gave a cry of alarm and fell back. As it did this Dick leaped to his feet and sprang several feet away.



John Barrow was now free to shoot, and hurling the firebrand at the wildcat, he caught up his rifle and blazed away in short order. The wildcat had turned to retreat, but the guide was too quick for it, and down went the beast with a shot through its head. It gave a shudder or two, and then stretched out, dead.

"Is he—he dead?" panted Dick, when he felt able to speak.

"Reckon so," responded John Barrow. "But I'll make sure." And catching up a club, he aimed a blow which crushed the animal's skull.

"That was a narrow escape," went on Dick. "If you hadn't come to my aid, I'm afraid he would have done me up." And he shivered from head to foot.

"You want to be careful how you attack wildcats around here, lad. It aint likely they'll tech you, if you don't tech them. But if you do, why, look out, that's all."

"Do you think he would have sneaked off with the turkey? I was thinking first he would attack you."

"Reckon he was after the game, and nuthin' more, Dick. He must have been powerful hungry, or he wouldn't have come so close to us. He's a putty big fellow," went on the guide, as he dragged the carcass closer to the firelight.

The fire was burning low, and Dick lost no time in heaping on some of the newly cut brushwood, and then he reloaded and the guide did the same.

"Might have a mate around," suggested John Barrow. "We had better keep our eyes peeled, or we may be surprised. Wonder what time it is?"

By consulting a watch they found it was just midnight. After the excitement Dick felt quite sleepy, and inside of half an hour he followed the guide's advice and laid down to rest—not under the tree, however, but as close to the camp-fire as safety permitted.

Dick had requested John Barrow to call him in three hours, so that the guide might get a little more sleep, but the youth was allowed to slumber until he aroused of his own accord, just as day was breaking.

"Hullo, I've slept all night!" he exclaimed, leaping up with something of a hurt look. "Why didn't you call me?"

"I thought as how you needed the rest," was the answer from the guide.

"Aren't you sleepy?"

"Not very. A sleep early in the night generally does me more good nor hours o' it later on."

"You haven't seen or heard anything of Tom or Sam?"

"Nary sight or sound, lad. It's too bad, but don't worry too much."

"They couldn't have seen the firelight," returned Dick, with a sorry shake of his head. "It beats all where they went to, doesn't it?"

"I've been a-thinking that maybe they went on ahead, Dick."

"Ahead? That they somehow passed us?"

"Yes; while we were lookin' for 'em. They may be up at B'ar Pond now, waitin' for us."

"Do you advise going up there?"

"We might as well. We can put up a post here, with a message for 'em—in case they do come this way."

"That's an idea, and we can put up other posts, too. Then, if they strike our trail, they'll be sure to go straight in following us." And Dick's face brightened a bit.

John Barrow was already preparing breakfast, and he agreed with Dick to leave some cooked meat in a cloth tied to the top of the pole the youth erected not far from the fire. On the cloth they pinned a note, telling of the direction to Bear Pond, and asking Tom and Sam to follow and fire two shots, a minute apart, as a signal.

It was a clear day and the sun, shining over the mountain tops, made the snow and ice glitter like pearls and diamonds. There was no wind, so the journey toward Bear Pond was far from unpleasant. They moved slowly, dragging the sled behind them, and searching to the right and the left for some trace of the missing Rovers.

"I don't believe they came up here," said Dick after half the distance to the pond had been covered, "I don't see the least trace of any human being, although I've seen the footprints of several wild animals."

"The wind might have covered the tracks during the night," was John Barrow's hopeful response.

"I'd rather lose the treasure, even if it is worth thousands, than have anything happen to Sam and Tom."

Just before noon they came to a point in the river where it divided into several branches.

"We'll stop here and put up another sign pole," said the guide. "Remember what I said? All these streams run into the pond and into Perch River. Now, which one you want, at tudder end, I don't know."

"Which is the largest branch?"

"Can't say, exactly. This one an' the one yonder are about the same size, and that one aint much smaller."

"Well, which do you suppose was the largest years ago?"

"Can't say that neither, although that one yonder might have been, by the looks o' the banks."

"Then let us start on that one. And if that fails us, we can then try the others."

They skated to the stream in question and erected a pole in the middle of the ice, upon which a second note was posted. Having gone to the trouble of chopping a hole for the pole, John Barrow suggested they might try their hand at fishing.

"Might as well stay here a while," he said. "If they are behind us, they may catch up."

Dick was willing, and soon a line was baited and let down into the hole. It was in the water only a few seconds when the guide felt a bite and drew up a fine fish, weighing at least half a pound.

Dick was anxious to try it, and took the line from John Barrow's hands. He was equally successful, and in a short while they had seven fish to their credit, weighing from a quarter to three-quarters of a pound apiece.

"I'm going to tie a fish to the top of the pole," said Dick. "They may be hungry when they get here, especially if they miss the pole at our last camping place."

"They won't want to eat raw fish, lad."

"No, and I'm going to put a few matches in a paper and tie it to the fish, so they can cook it, if they wish."

Dick's idea was followed out, and once more they went on, up a narrow stream which had many a turn among the cedar brakes and hemlocks which lined either side. Rocks were likewise numerous, and the lad came to the conclusion that locating the treasure was going to be no easy task.

"It's rather desolate," he remarked. "I wonder what ever possessed that old Goupert to come here?"

"It's not so desolate in the summer time, Dick. But I reckon Goupert was a mighty odd stick, as it was."

At last they rounded a turn in the stream and came in sight of Bear Pond, a long and wide stretch of water located in the very midst of two tall mountains. The pond was covered with thick ice, and the snow lay upon it in long drifts and ridges. The ice was blackish and almost as hard as flint.

"We may as well go into camp near the mouth of this stream," said Dick. "For from this spot we'll make our first hunt for the treasure."

"I hope with all my heart that you find it, lad. But if you don't, don't be too disappointed."

"I want to find Sam and Tom first. I shan't hunt for the treasure until I know of them."

"That's right. We'll go on a hunt this afternoon, jest as soon as we've had some of these fish broiled for dinner."

If there was one thing which John Barrow could do to perfection, it was to broil fish, and the meal he set before Dick half an hour later was so appetizing the lad could not help enjoy it, in spite of his anxiety over his brothers' prolonged absence. The fish was as sweet as a nut, and both lingered some time over the meal, until all that had been broiled were gone.

"And now to find Tom and Sam," said Dick, at last, as he leaped up from the log upon which he had been sitting. "What shall we do with our things?"

"Here is a hole in the rocks," answered the guide. "We'll hide them there and cover them with stones. I don't think anything will disturb the things between now and nightfall."

The stores were placed in the cache and carefully covered, so that the wild animals might not get at them, and then they saw to it that their firearms were ready for use. A minute later they were off, on the hunt for Tom and Sam.



CHAPTER XXI.

A PAIR OF PRISONERS.

It is high time that we return to Tom and Sam, and learn how the two Rover boys were faring in their unequal contest with Dan Baxter and his followers.

As we know, it was Baxter himself who attacked Sam, while big Bill Harney threw Tom to the ground. Jasper Grinder went to Baxter's assistance, while Lemuel Husty ran to aid Harney.

"Let go of him!" cried Sam, and managed to hit Baxter a glancing blow on the cheek.

"I'll not let go yet," answered Baxter, and bore the youngest Rover to the earth. Over and over they rolled in the snow, until Grinder caught Sam by the legs and held him still.

"That's right, Grinder, hold him!" panted Dan Baxter. "Don't let him get up!"

But Sam was not yet subdued, and getting one foot clear at last, he kicked Jasper Grinder in the ear.

"Oh! oh! my ear!" screamed the former teacher. "He has kicked my ear off. You scamp, take that!" And letting out with his foot, he gave Sam a vigorous kick on the side. At the same time Baxter struck the boy in the head with a stick he had been carrying, and then Sam suddenly lost consciousness.

In the meantime Tom was having a similar struggle with Harney and Husty. But the boy, though strong, was no match for the two men, and they soon pinned him to the ground and held him there as in a vise, while he was nearly choked by the big guide, who had clutched him by the throat.

"Let—let go—my—throat!" Tom managed to gasp.

"Will you keep quiet?" demanded Harney.

"Yes—yes."

"All right, mind you do." And then the guide released his hold, but continued to sit as he was, astride of poor Tom's chest.

"Have you got him?" came from Dan Baxter.

"Yes," returned the big guide.

"All right; then hold him."

"I will."

Leaving Sam to be watched by Jasper Grinder, Baxter ran over to one of the sleds and procured a long rope.

"Now then, Tom Rover, get up," he said sourly.

Tom was glad to arise.

"What are you going to do with me?" he questioned.

"You'll see fast enough."

"Going to try your old tricks of making me a prisoner, I suppose."

"You're a prisoner already."

"Thank you, for nothing," returned Tom, as coolly as he could.

"Don't you get impudent, Tom Rover. If you try it on, you'll get more than you bargain for, let me tell you that."

"You always were a first-class bully, Baxter. You like to tackle little boys, or else somebody who is helpless."

"Shut up! I won't listen to you, now!" roared Baxter, and grabbing Tom's hands he forced them back and bound them together. Then the ropes was passed around Tom's waist, so that he could not move his hands to the front.

By the time this work was accomplished Sam was regaining consciousness. He gave a moan of pain, and then sat up in bewilderment.

"Who—what's happened?" he stammered. Then he looked around. "Oh! I remember now!"

He was very unsteady when he got on his feet, and it was Tom who made the first move toward him.

"Too bad, Sam. They are a set of brutes."

"Don't call me a brute Rover," growled Jasper Grinder. "Neither you nor your brother have all you deserve."

Sam was bound with a rope, and then both prisoners were told to walk over to the fire. This they did, and were left in charge of Husty and Jasper Grinder, while Baxter went off a distance, in company with big Bill Harney.

"Well, what do you want to do with 'em?" demanded Harney, when he and the bully were out of hearing of the others, "'Pears to me you've taken the law in yer own hands."

"I'm glad I've caught them," returned Dan Baxter. "They may help us to find what I am after."

"Think they've got a better map nor yours?"

"They may have."

"Supposing that brother comes up, with John Barrow? They may make it hot for us."

"That's what I want to ask you about, Harney. Isn't there some place around here where we might hide the prisoners? A cave, or something like that?"

The big guide scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"There's a tolerable place about quarter of a mile from here—the old B'ars' Hole, we use ter call it."

"Of course we don't want to run up against any bears," said Baxter, with a show of nervousness.

At this the big guide let out a rough laugh.

"Aint got no use fer them critters, eh?"

"I have not."

"'Taint likely there are any b'ars around. Me an Jim Wister cleaned out the hole last spring—got three on 'em. No new b'ars will take that hole yet awhile."

"Then we had better make tracks for it at once—before Dick Rover and the man who is with him get on our trail."

They walked back to the camp-fire and, calling Jasper Grinder and Lemuel Husty aside, Baxter explained the situation. A talk, lasting several minutes, followed.

"Now then, you come with us," said Dan Baxter to the Rovers. "And see to it that you don't try to get away."

"Where do you want us to go?" asked Tom.

"We are going to try to find your brother," was the bully's smooth reply.

"Humph! Do you expect us to believe that?"

"You can suit yourself, Tom Rover. But, just the same, you'll come along."

"And if we refuse?" put in Sam.

"I'll hammer you into submission."

"By jinks! but you always were a cheerful brute, Baxter," cried Sam.

"Shut up and come along," growled the bully.

Feeling it would be folly to resist, the two Rovers moved off with the party. The big guide led the way and the others followed.

"You may as well earn your salt," observed Baxter. "Here, take hold and pull one of the sleds."

He placed the rope in their hands and compelled them to haul the load, which they did unwillingly enough.

Curious as it may seem, none of the Baxter party had given a thought to the sled which Sam and Tom had had with them, and this had been left under the bushes at the spot where Husty had discovered the Rovers.

At first Tom and Sam had thought to speak about the matter, but they finally decided it would be better to run the risk of losing that portion of the outfit entirely than to place it in the hands of their enemy.

The way was rough, and it was only with the greatest of difficulty that they could drag the sleds along. But less than half an hour brought them to the spot which Bill Harney had in mind—a grand and wild place, where the mountain appeared to split in two for a distance of several hundred feet. Here there was a gorge fifty or sixty feet deep, partly choked with small scrub cedars.

"There's the hole," said Harney, advancing into the gorge and pointing with his hand.

"Better go ahead and see if it is free of bears or other wild animals," suggested Dan Baxter, as he came to a halt.

Rifle in hand the guide went into the opening, and made a thorough examination of the surroundings.

"Aint been no b'ars nor nothin' else here," he declared. "You can come right in."

The opening on one side of the gully was an irregular one, and beyond this was a large cave having several chambers. All was pitch dark in the inner chambers, and they lit some brushwood to give them light. Then a regular fire was started, which did much toward making the surroundings warmer and more cheerful.

Dan Baxter and his friends were hungry, and lost no time in preparing a meal. Tom and Sam were led to one side of an inner chamber, and the rope fastened to their hands was bound tightly to the protruding roots of a tree.

"Now, don't you attempt to escape," said Baxter. "If you do—well, you'll wish you hadn't, that's all."

And then he rejoined his companions in the outer chamber, leaving poor Tom and Sam to their misery.



CHAPTER XXII.

JASPER GRINDER TRIES TO MAKE TERMS.

"Well, Tom, this looks as if we had put our foot into it," was Sam's comment, delivered in a whisper.

"Don't despair, Sam," said his brother cheerfully. "We have been in worse holes, remember, and always managed to escape with a whole skin."

"That's true, but I don't see how we are going to get away now. I suppose somebody will stand on guard all the time."

"Perhaps Dick and Mr. Barrow will come to the rescue."

"If they can find the way. The wind and snow will cover the trail pretty well."

"There's no use of crying over the affair. If we can break away, I'll be for doing so."

"So will I."

"Hi, you stop your talking in there!" shouted Dan Baxter. "Plotting to run away, I reckon. It won't do you any good. If you try it, somebody will get a dose of buckshot in the leg."

"You don't mean to say you're going to stop our talking," said Tom, in indignation.

"That's just what I do mean to say. Now stop—or go hungry."

As the Rovers did not wish to starve, they relapsed into silence. A meal was being prepared by the Baxter party, and the appetizing odors floated into the inner chamber, where Tom and Sam sniffed them eagerly, for the walk and the bracing air had given them an appetite.

"Smells good, don't it?" remarked Dan Baxter, as he came in, fire-brand in hand, and confronted Tom.

"What, the cave?" asked Tom carelessly.

"No, the grub."

"Oh, you are cooking something, aren't you?"

"You know well enough that we are."

"Well, I can't stop you, Baxter, so cook away."

"Don't you want something to eat?"

"To be sure we do," put in Sam. "Nobody wants to go hungry."

"Perhaps you'll have to go hungry," said Dan Baxter significantly.

"It would be just like you to starve us, Baxter!" burst out Tom. "I know you are as mean as they make them."

"No compliments, please. I know my business, Tom Rover; and let me say I am in this game to win."

"I don't see what that has to do with our eating."

"You will see presently. I know all about what brought you here."

"And we know what brought you here," put in Sam.

"I suppose you fellows have a map, or something like it," went on Baxter, after a pause, during which he gazed curiously first at Tom and then at the youngest Rover.

"A map of what?" demanded Tom.

"A map whereby to find that treasure."

"If we have a map we'll take good care to keep it to ourselves," came from Sam, before he had taken time to think twice.

"Ha! then you have a map!" And now Dan Baxter's eyes brightened. "Where is it?"

"I didn't say so."

"I'll search you," said the bully, and at once proceeded to turn out one pocket after another. Of course the map, being in Dick's possession, was not found.

"You got it hidden," said Baxter sourly. "Tell we where it is, or you shall have nothing to eat."

"Will you give us a good meal if we do tell you?" demanded Tom promptly.

"Yes."

"Honor bright?"

"Yes."

"Well, then, Dick has the only map we possess." And Tom grinned, while Sam had all he could do to keep from laughing outright.

Instantly Dan Baxter's face grew dark, and he drew back his hand as if to strike Tom.

"You're a fresh one!" he burst out. "Are you telling me the truth?"

"I am. He has the map, and I reckon he'll keep it. Now, if it's all the same to you, we'll take that meal. Eh, Sam?"

"I'm hungry enough."

"I shan't give you a mouthful!" roared Baxter. "You can't play any game on me."

"That shows what your promise is worth, Baxter," returned Tom. "I didn't expect much else, though, for I know you thoroughly. Still, we told you nothing but the truth."

With a face full of hatred Dan Baxter turned on his heel and left them. Presently they heard him sit down with the others, and all began to eat the food that had been cooking.

"I must say we didn't gain much," observed Tom gloomily. "I suppose I ought to have humored him, in order to get something. But I despise him so I can't help pitching into him."

"I wouldn't humor him—I'd starve first!" returned Sam earnestly. "I am glad we weren't carrying the map."

"So am I glad. Rather than give it to him, I would have chewed it up and swallowed it."

Half an hour went by, during which both boys said but little, each being busy trying to concoct some scheme by which they might escape. They heard the others talking in low voices, but were unable to catch what was said.

Presently Jasper Grinder came in, bringing with him a small portion of food and a kettle of water. Setting the things on a rock, he untied one hand of each of the boys, that they might eat and drink.

"This is a fine meal," said Tom sarcastically.

"It is more than you deserve," replied the former teacher of Putnam Hall.

"You always were a hard one, Grinder."

"Mr. Grinder, if you please," said the man pointedly.

"And if I don't please to call you Mister?"

"Then you will get nothing more from me."

"Do you know that you are playing a high game here, keeping us prisoners?" asked Sam.

"What we are doing is our business." Jasper Grinder paused for a moment. "I want you to tell me something of that treasure for which you are seeking," he went on.

"What do you want to know?" asked Tom.

"What is the treasure worth?"

"We can't tell that until it is found."

"You are quite sure it has never been removed?"

"How can we be sure, when we don't know anything about it."

"Baxter says your brother Dick has a map."

"Hasn't Baxter a map, too?" questioned Sam.

"Something of a map, yes, but it is not very complete."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Tom quickly.

"But Baxter claims the treasure for himself."

"Really?" said Sam sarcastically. "Well, let him claim what he pleases. If we find it, it will belong to us—don't forget that."

Again there was a pause. Jasper Grinder looked anxiously toward the outer cave, to see if Baxter or the guide were watching him. But the two were talking earnestly between themselves.

"I have a plan," began the former teacher of Putnam Hall, in a low voice, "a plan to aid you."

"What plan?" demanded Tom.

"Hush! not so loud—or they may hear you. I presume you know what sort of a fellow Baxter is?"

"Well, rather," said Sam dryly.

"He is planning to do you a great deal of harm. Now I think I can save you."

"Then save us," said Tom. "Or untie us, and we will save ourselves."

"You can't save yourselves. Baxter is strong, and that guide is a giant in strength."

"What do you propose?"

"I'm coming to that. But you must make me a promise first."

"What promise?"

"That half that treasure shall be mine when it is found."

"Half!" cried Tom and Sam together.

"Yes."

"We can't promise that," went on Tom.

"You don't want much," was Sam's comment.

"Isn't it worth something to be saved from Baxter's clutches? I overheard him tell the guide what troubles he had had with you in the past, and how you had been the means of sending his father to prison, and all that. Why, he would put you out of the way forever, if he could."

"And will you stand by, Jasper Grinder, and see that done?" asked Tom.

"No! no! But—but—he is his own master. Promise what I wish, and I will help you."

"We can't promise you half the treasure," said Tom flatly. "But if you will really help us, we'll promise that you shall lose nothing by the transaction."

At this instant Dan Baxter leaped to his feet and ran for his gun, while Bill Harney and Lemuel Husty did the same.

"Come out here, Grinder!" shouted the bully. "Somebody or some wild animal is around!"



CHAPTER XXIII.

THE BLACK BEAR.

"Somebody is coming!" ejaculated Sam. "I hope it is Dick, with Mr. Barrow!"

"So do I," returned Tom.

Without saying a word more, Jasper Grinder ran from the inner cave and joined Baxter and the guide. His face was pale, and he was evidently much disturbed.

Soon Baxter and his party were outside, and the Rover boys heard them moving up and down the gully. Several minutes passed, and then came a gunshot, followed by another.

"I hope they are not firing on Dick or Mr. Barrow," said Sam, with something of a shudder.

"I guess not," returned his brother. "If they were, we'd probably hear shots in return."

An hour went by, and then Dan Baxter and the others came back, the guide carrying several rabbits and a large fox. The rabbits were skinned and kept for eating, and the fox was skinned and the carcass thrown away.

Tom and Sam had expected Jasper Grinder to return to them, but if the former teacher desired to do this, he was prevented by Dan Baxter, who kept his companions close by him, around the fire.

Slowly the time went by until darkness was upon them. The fire was kept up, but Baxter screened it as much as possible, so that the glare might not penetrate to the forest beyond the gully and prove a beacon to guide Dick and John Barrow to the spot.

The boys were tired out, and soon Sam sank to sleep, with his hands still tied to the tree roots. Tom tried to keep awake, but half an hour later he, too, was in dreamland.

When the Rovers awoke it was not yet morning. All was dark around them, for the fire had burnt low. Sam roused up first, with a severe pain in his wrists and ankles, where his bonds were cutting him.

"Oh, my wrists!" he groaned, and his voice caused Tom to start.

"Is that you, Sam?"

"Yes. My wrists are almost cut in two!"

"The same here. I've slept like a rock, too."

"Is it morning yet?"

"I'm sure I don't know."

"What's going on in there?" came from Dan Baxter, as he leaped to his feet and caught up a gun.

"We are suffering from cuts of the ropes," said Tom. "It was an outrage to compel us to sleep in this fashion, tied up like mummies!"

"Oh, shut up!" growled Baxter, and then began to poke the fire. Soon it was blazing as readily as before, and then the light found its way into the inner cave, so that Sam and Tom could see each other once more.

Breakfast for the two prisoners was a slim affair of crackers, rabbits' bones, and water. Tom asked for coffee, but Baxter would not give it to them.

"You'll get no luxuries from me," growled the bully. "Be thankful that you aren't being starved."

While they were eating, Baxter and his companions held a low, but animated, conversation. "We'll try it, anyway," Tom heard Baxter say, and that was all the Rovers heard. As soon as the meal was finished the party took up some of their traps and their firearms.

"Now, then, we are going out for a while," said Dan Baxter, coming up to the prisoners. "Take my advice and don't try to escape in the meantime. If you do, and we catch you, it will go hard with you; let me tell you that!"

"Are you going to leave us tied up?" questioned Tom dubiously.

"Certainly."

"Some wild animal may come in here and chew us up."

"We'll leave the fire burning—that will keep 'em away," returned the bully.

He would say no more, and in a few minutes he and his companions were gone and the Rover boys were left to themselves.

"Now what?" asked Sam, after all had been silent for at least ten minutes.

"Don't ask me," replied Tom disconsolately. "We're in a pickle, and no mistake. Are your hands as tight as ever?"

"Yes, and my wrists hurt so I feel like screaming with pain."

"Baxter is a brute, if ever there was one. However, I think I can get my left hand free," went on Tom suddenly.

"Good, Tom! Do so by all means."

Tom worked away with vigor. The pain was intense, but he bore it manfully. At last his hand was free.

"Hurrah! so far so good!" he cried lowly. "Now for the other hand."

But this was not so easy, for the knots were hard ones and broke his finger nails dread-fully.

"If only I could get at them with my teeth," he observed, "I'd soon chew them apart."

But he could not bend around, and so had to content himself with working away as before. Soon his fingers grew numb and he had to desist.

"Too bad, but I can't make it!" he groaned.

"Wait a while and give your fingers a rest," returned Sam.

He had begun work on his own fetters, but try his best could make no material progress. The ropes had cut through the skin in two places and from these spots the blood was flowing freely.

Two hours went by, and to the boys it seemed an age. Tom had tried his best to free himself, and now the cords were gradually loosening up.

"I've got it at last!" he cried presently. "Just wait." And a little later the bonds dropped to the ground. But the work had caused his finger tips to bleed.

With his hands free, Tom set to work free his feet, and this was not so difficult, although it also took time. Both boys were now hungry once more, and reckoned that it was well past the noon hour.

"I'll set you free, and then we'll look around for something to eat," said Tom.

"Hadn't we better get out as soon as we can?" asked his brother. "Remember, they may come back at any moment, and we are no match for them."

"It will take but a minute to pick up something, if it's around, Sam. Besides, we have got to have something in our stomachs before we set off to hunt up Dick and Mr. Barrow."

As soon as Sam was freed they ran to the outer cave. Here, on some tree-roots overhead, hung a number of traps, including a knapsack containing crackers and cheese, and close by it was a portion of rabbit, left over from the morning repast.

"Just what we want!" cried Tom. "Now, if we only had a gun——"

He broke off short, as a crashing outside greeted their ears. The noise continued several seconds, then ceased abruptly.

"What do you suppose that was?" questioned Sam. "It can't be our enemies returning."

"No, I think it was some wild animal—perhaps a wildcat."

Both looked around for some weapon with which to defend themselves, and Sam caught sight of a double-barreled shotgun standing in a corner of the cave. He ran for this, and as he did so the crashing outside was continued.

"I see something under the brushwood!" whispered Tom, peeping out. "Something big and black."

"It's a bear!" cried Sam, a minute later. "A black bear! And he is coming this way!"

Both boys were astonished and bewildered, for they had not been looking for such a big beast as this. Sam clutched the shotgun tightly, while Tom ran to the fire and picked up the biggest brand he could hold.

The bear advanced to the center of the gully and looked up and down suspiciously. Then he sniffed the air.

"He smells the carcass of the fox that lies outside," whispered Tom.

"Well, he must smell us, too, Tom. It's a wonder he doesn't run. Mr. Barrow said bears up here were generally shy."

"I reckon he is pretty hungry. Here he comes for the fox meat now."

Tom was right. The bear was advancing with great care, sniffing the snow-covered ground at every step. Once or twice he raised his head, as if preparing to run at the first sign of alarm.

"I'd like to bring him down!" whispered Sam.

"You can't do it with the shotgun, Sam. Be quiet! We can be thankful if he takes the fox meat and leaves us alone."

At last the bear reached the carcass. The two boys expected he would snatch it up instantly and run away, but they were mistaken. The bear sniffed it from end to end, and walked all around it.

"He's afraid of a trap, or something like that," whispered Tom. "They are pretty cute."

At last the bear seemed satisfied, and he took the carcass up in his mouth and started to walk off with it. But, instead of turning up or down the gully, he came closer to the cave!

"My gracious, he's coming this way!" cried Sam. "Look out, Tom!"

His voice was so loud that the black bear heard it plainly. The beast immediately dropped the fox meat and stood up on his hind legs. Then he gave a roar of disappointment; thinking, probably, that the boys had set a bait to catch him.

"He don't like the situation," began Tom, when he gave a yell and clutched his brother by the arm. And small wonder, for with rapid strides the black bear was making for them, as though to chew them both up!



CHAPTER XXIV.

TOGETHER AGAIN.

It must be confessed that both Tom and Sam were much alarmed by the forward move of the black bear. Up to this instant they had trusted the beast would depart with the fox's carcass, without discovering them. Now it looked as if they were in for a hot fight, and that without delay.

"Get behind the fire!" cried Tom, as soon as he could collect his thoughts.

Sam had the shotgun pointed, and as the bear advanced he pulled the trigger. The charge of shot entered the bear's left shoulder, making a number of painful, but not dangerous, wounds. At once the beast let out a snort of commingled pain and rage.

"You've done it now," came from Tom, and whirled his firebrand, to make it blaze up. "Take a stick, quick!"

Instead of doing this, however, Sam fired a second time, this time hitting the bear in the left hind leg. The beast dropped on all fours and came to a halt while yet twenty yards from them.

By this time Tom had another firebrand, and this he compelled his brother to take, the shotgun being now empty. There was no time to reload the piece, and indeed, neither of the boys knew where to look for ammunition.

More enraged than ever, the bear now advanced again, until only the fire was between him and his intended victims. He had now forgotten about the fox meat, and thought only of getting at the human being who had injured him. He arose once more and let out a loud roar, while his small eyes gleamed maliciously. Had the fire not been in the way he would have rushed upon Sam without further hesitation.

The pulling out of the two large firebrands was causing the fire to burn low, something which was in the bear's favor. The boys almost expected to see the beast leap over the spot, but bruin knew better than to attempt this. He began to circle around the flames, and as he did this, the boys did likewise.

"Shall we run?" panted Sam. He was so agitated he could scarcely speak.

"No—stick to the fire," returned Tom. "Bears hate that. Look out!"

The bear had now started to come around the other way. At once the boys shifted again, until they occupied the position where they had stood when the beast was first discovered. Then the bear dropped down once more, and eyed them in a meditative way.

"He is making up his mind about the next move," said Tom. "I'll try him with something new." And at the risk of burning his hand, he picked up some small brushwood which was blazing fiercely and threw it at their enemy.

The effect was as surprising as it was gratifying. The burning brands struck the beast fairly on the nose, causing him to leap back in terror. Then he uttered a grunt of dissatisfaction, turned, and sped, with clumsy swiftness, up the gully and into the forest beyond.

"He is retreating!" cried Sam joyfully.

"Wait—don't be too sure," returned Tom, and, firebrands still in hand, they watched until the bear was out of sight and they could hear nothing more of him.

"My, but aint I glad he's gone!" said the youngest Rover, with a sigh of relief.

"So am I glad, Sam. I was almost afraid both of us were doomed to be chewed up."

"What shall we do next?"

"I guess we had better get out—as soon as you've reloaded the gun. Wonder where the ammunition is?"

Both instituted a search, and soon a box was brought to light, containing not only ammunition, but also a big hunting knife.

"I'll appropriate the knife," said Tom. "It's not as good as a gun or pistol, but it is better than nothing."

Thus armed they set forth without further delay, fearful that their enemies might return at any moment to recapture them. As the bear had gone up the gully they went down, and they did not come to a halt until they had placed at least quarter of a mile between themselves and the caves. For some distance they kept on a series of bare rocks, thus leaving no trail behind.

"I reckon we are clear of them for the time being," observed Tom, as he came to a halt. "And that being so, the next question is Where are Dick and Mr. Barrow?"

"The best we can do is to try to find Perch River, to my way of thinking," came from Sam. "If we can find that and we stick to it, we'll be sure to land at Bear Pond, sooner or later."

"It seems to me Bear Pond ought to be close at hand," said Tom. "We've seen the bear anyway, if not the pond." And at this both Sam and he gave a short laugh.

An hour later found them tramping along the edge of a cliff overlooking a broad valley, in the center of which was a winding stream almost hidden by the woods on either side.

"Now, if we were only sure that was Perch River, we'd be all right," said Sam. "But unfortunately all rivers look pretty much alike up here."

"We might as well go down to it, anyway," answered his brother. "It's pretty cold up here."

Finding a break in the cliff they descended, and started through the woods for the watercourse. It was indeed cold, and only their brisk walking kept them warm. A stiff wind was rising, and overhead the branches swayed mournfully.

When they reached the river they came to another halt, not knowing which was up and which was down.

"Guess we had better chop a hole in the ice and see how the water is flowing," suggested Sam.

"Let us walk in this direction," said Tom. "I think this is right, and, anyway, we may soon come to an air-hole, which will save us the trouble of cutting an opening."

As they advanced they had kept a sharp lookout for the Baxter crowd, but so far none of their enemies had put in an appearance.

"Hurrah!" suddenly shouted Tom. "Here's a signal of some sort!"

He pointed ahead, to where Dick and John Barrow had planted their first signal pole. Both made a rush forward, and soon had the cooked meat which had been tied in a cloth and the note pinned on the outside.

"A letter from Dick," said Tom, and read it aloud. "We are on the right track, Sam, and if we only continue to steer clear of Dan Baxter and his gang we'll be safe."

"Dick asks us to fire two shots, a minute apart, as a signal," came from Sam. "I'll do it at once." And without delay he discharged the shotgun, waited sixty seconds, and then discharged it again.

Both listened intently, and from a great distance came back two other shots, also a minute apart.

"They heard the signal!" ejaculated Sam joyfully. "It came from up the river, didn't it?"

"Yes; come on!"

Without stopping to eat the food which had been left for them, the boys hurried forward just as rapidly as their now tired legs would carry them.

They had brought their skates along and these were put on, after which progress was easier. It was now growing dark, and they began to wonder if they would be able to rejoin Dick and Mr. Barrow before nightfall.

"I hope we meet them," said Sam. "I've no fancy for remaining in this open, alone."

"Try another two shots," suggested Tom, after an hour had gone by, and Sam did so. Immediately came answering reports, directly to their left.

"Hullo!" yelled Tom, at the top of his lungs, and Sam at once took up the cry.

"Hullo!" came back faintly. "Tom! Sam! Is that you?"

"Yes. We are on the river!"

"All right!"

The yelling now stopped, and Tom and Sam came to a halt and sat down on a flat rock to wait. Ten minutes passed, when they saw Dick rush into a clearing, followed by John Barrow. As soon as the eldest Rover saw them he waved his hand enthusiastically.

"Where in the world have you been?" came from Dick, as soon as he reached them, and saw that neither was injured. "We've been looking high and low for you."

"We've been prisoners of the enemy," answered Tom. "By the way, have you seen anything of Dan Baxter and his party?"

"No. Do you mean to say Baxter made you prisoners?"

"He and his crowd did."

"How many are there with him?"

"Three men, Bill Harney the guide, Lemuel Husty, and Jasper Grinder."

"Jasper Grinder!" burst out Dick. "Impossible!"

"It is true, Dick. I was as much astonished as you."

"I suppose Baxter promised him a share of the treasure if it was found."

"More than likely. But I don't believe they'll find the treasure."

Tom and Sam soon told their story, to which Dick and John Barrow listened with keen interest. Hardly, however, was the tale finished than the guide urged them to move on.

"It's quite a few miles to camp," he said. "And, unless I am mistaken, it's getting ready for a big fall o' snow."

John Barrow was right about the snow. Less than quarter of an hour later the thick flakes began to fall. Then came a finer snow, which the wind blew around them like so much hard salt.

"We are in for a corker!" cried the guide. "The sooner we git back to our supplies the better it will be for us!"



CHAPTER XXV.

SNOWED IN.

With the coming of night the downfall of snow increased until it was impossible to see a dozen feet in any direction. The wind also increased in fury until it blew a regular gale. At first this was in their favor, being directly on their backs and sending them over the ice at a furious pace, but soon it shifted, first to the left and then to in front of them, and now further progress appeared out of the question.

"I'm afraid we can't make it!" gasped Dick, turning to catch his breath. "I'm almost winded now."

"I've got to stop," came from Sam. "I'm ready to drop."

"I can't see a thing," said Tom. "And I'm in mortal terror of skating into some big air-hole."

"You are right, lads, we'll have to give up the idea of reaching camp to-night," came from John Barrow seriously. "But where to take you to out of this awful storm I scarcely know."

"Any kind of shelter will do," said Sam. "We can rig up a hut under some big cedar tree."

"In that case, let us stick as closely to the river as possible."

"Why?"

"We can get fish then, if we need 'em."

No more was said, and the guide at once led the way to a thick clump of cedars growing but a rod away from the edge of the river. The cedars formed something of a circle, about fifteen feet in diameter, and by clearing out some brushwood in the center they made quite a cozy resting place. On the outside the cedars were laced together, and the snow was banked up on all sides, leaving but one opening, two feet wide and several feet high, for the purpose of supplying them with fresh air.

By the time the shelter was ready for use all the boys were so fagged out they could scarcely stand. Dick and the guide had brought blankets with them, and one of these was placed over the opening temporarily, to keep out a large part of the wind. Then a candle was lit and John Barrow burnt up a little brushwood, "jest to take the chill outer the place," as he explained. They did not dare to let the flames grow too high for fear of setting fire to the cedars themselves.

As the boys lay on the brushwood resting, they heard the wind outside increasing in violence, and saw the cedars bend to and fro, and listened to them creak dismally.

"Mr. Barrow, how long do you reckon this storm will last?" questioned Tom.

"There is no tellin', lad. Perhaps through the night, an' perhaps for a couple o' days."

"If it lasts two days, we'll be snowed in for keeps!" came from Sam.

The guide shrugged his shoulders. "True, Sam, but we've got to take what comes."

"Let us take account of our provisions," said Dick. "If there is any prospect of our being snowed in we'll have to eat sparingly, or run the risk of being starved to death."

There was not much to count up: some meat and crackers Dick and the guide had brought along, and the meat, crackers, and the rabbit in Tom and Sam's store. In his pockets John Barrow also carried some coffee, sugar, and some salt.

"Not such a very small lot," was Dick's comment. "But it might be more."

A scanty evening meal was quickly disposed of, and then the candle was blown out, and all retired to rest. The boys were soon sound asleep, and presently the guide followed, but with his hand on his gun, ready for any attack by man or beast, should it come.

The night passed quietly enough, for presently the wind went down. The snow grew thicker than ever, until it covered the river to a depth of two feet and more. Around the cedars there was a huge drift, burying the shelter completely.

It was Dick who roused up first, to find all pitch-dark around him. Bringing out a match, he lit the candle and looked at his watch.

"Seven o'clock!" he murmured. "Guess I'll go out and see what the weather is."

Stretching himself, he walked to the blanket which had been placed over the opening, and tried to thrust it aside. At once a mass of snow came tumbling down and sifted in all directions, a good share on Tom's face.

"Hi! who's washing my face with snow?" cried Tom, as he opened his eyes and sat up. "That's a mean trick, Dick, on a fellow who is dead tired out."

"I didn't mean to do it, Tom. I was going outside, to see how the weather is. I reckon the snow is pretty deep."

The talking aroused the guide and Sam, and soon all were on their feet. The snow in the opening was pushed back and they forced their way outside, to find themselves in a drift up to their waists.

"Gosh, but we are right in it!" was Tom's comment. "See, the river is completely covered. That settles skating."

"And the worst of it is, it is still snowing," came from Dick.

"With no signs of letting up," finished John Barrow. "Boys, I am afraid we are snowed in, or snowed up, just as you feel like calling it."

"Do you mean we'll have to remain here?" questioned Sam quickly.

"For the present. We are a good four miles from the pond, and we can't tramp that in this storm."

The wind was rising again, with a dull moaning through the timber, and sending the flakes whirling in all directions, and they were glad enough to get back to the shelter of the cedars.

"We'll clear a space in the snow and start a fire," said the guide. "A hot cup o' coffee will do us all good."

"And we can cook that other rabbit Tom and I brought along," put in Sam.

Brushwood was handy, and Tom helped to cut some of this with the hunting knife he had brought along. Soon a lively blaze was warming them up, and water was boiling for the coffee, while the rabbit was cleaned, and broiled on a long fork in the guide's outfit. Crackers were running low, and they had but two apiece.

"I'll try fishing as soon as I'm done," said John Barrow, and was as good as his word.

It was no easy task to cut a hole through the ice, but once this was accomplished the fish were found to be lively enough, despite the storm and the cold. Inside of an hour they had a mess of nine, sufficient to last them for several meals. And while the others were fishing, Dick caught sight of a flock of birds, and brought down three.

"There, we won't starve yet awhile," said Dick, as he began to clean his game.

"That's true," answered Tom, "although we may get pretty tired of birds and fish before we get out of here and strike something different."

"I wonder how the Baxter crowd is faring," said Sam. "Unless they got back to the cave they can't be having a very good time of it."

"They don't deserve a good time of it," grumbled Tom. "They deserve to suffer."

"Bill Harney is a good enough guide to know what to do," put in John Barrow. "He will pull them through somehow—that is, if he knows enough to remain sober."

They had hoped that the storm would let up by noon, but twelve o'clock found the snow coming down as fast as ever, blotting out the landscape on every hand. Outside of the moaning of the wind all was as silent as a tomb.

There was but a little for the boys to do, and after the fishing was over they were glad enough to take it easy in the shelter and listen to several stories John Barrow had to tell. The guide also related what he knew concerning Goupert and the various hunts made for the missing treasure.

"He must have been a fierce sort of a man in his day," observed Dick. "I don't wonder the most of the folks in this region were content to leave him alone."

It was almost nightfall when the snow stopped coming down, and then it was too dark to attempt the journey to Bear Pond.

"We'll have to make another night of it here," said John Barrow. "Then, if it's clear, we can start for the pond early in the morning."

"Hark!" cried Tom, rousing up. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" came from the others.

"I thought I heard somebody calling."

All listened. For a few seconds silence reigned, then came an uncertain sound from a considerable distance.

"There it is!"

"That's somebody calling, sure," said the guide. "Must be down along the river. I'll go out an' look."

"Can I go along?" asked Dick. "You may want help—if somebody is in trouble."

"All right. Bring your gun with you."

In another minute they had started out, each with his gun, and with his trouser legs tied up with bits of cord, to keep the deep snow from reaching up to their boot-tops. Their course was directly for the river.

It was so dark they could see little or nothing, saving the whiteness which spread in all directions.

"Hullo! hullo!" yelled John Barrow, when the river was gained.

"Help!" came back faintly. "Help!"

"Somebody over thar!" said the guide, and pointed a short distance up the stream. "Guess he's in a peck o' trouble, too."

He started in the direction, and Dick came close behind. The party in distress was a man, whose cries for aid were gradually becoming weaker and weaker. Before they reached the individual his voice ceased entirely.

"He has fainted from exhaustion," said John Barrow, as he reached the wayfarer.

"Why, it's Jasper Grinder, our old teacher," ejaculated Dick.

The eldest Rover was right. The unfortunate man was indeed the former teacher of Putnam Hall, but so pinched and haggard as to be scarcely recognized. He had fallen on a bare rock, and this had cut open his left cheek, from which the blood was flowing.



CHAPTER XXVI.

AN UNWELCOME COMRADE.

"He's in a bad way, that's certain," was Dick's comment, as he surveyed the prostrate form. Even though Jasper Grinder was an enemy, he could not help but feel sorry for the man.

"We must get him up to our shelter as soon as possible," replied John Barrow. "It is easy to see he is half frozen—and maybe starved."

"Shall we carry him?"

"We'll have to; there is no other way."

Slinging their guns across their backs, they raised up the form of the unconscious man. He was a dead weight, and to carry him through that deep snow was no light task. Less than half the distance to the shelter was covered when Dick called a halt.

"I'll have to rest up!" he gasped. "He weighs a ton."

But in a few minutes he resumed the journey, and now they did not stop with their load until the shelter was reached. Tom and Sam were watching for them.

"Jasper Grinder, by all that's wonderful!" burst out Tom.

"Was he alone?" questioned Sam.

"He was, so far as we could see," answered Dick. "I can tell you, he's almost a case for an undertaker."

This remark made everyone feel sober, and while the two younger Rovers stirred up the fire, Dick and the guide did all in their power to bring the unconscious man to his senses. Some hot coffee was poured down his throat, and his hands and back were vigorously rubbed.

"Oh!" came faintly, at last, and Jasper Grinder slowly opened his eyes, "Oh!"

"Take it easy, Mr. Grinder," said Dick kindly. "You are safe now."

"But the bear! Where is the bear?" murmured the dazed man.

"There is no bear here."

"He is after me! He wants to chew me up!"

With this Jasper Grinder relapsed into unconsciousness once more.

"I reckon a b'ar chased him and he lost his reckonin'," was John Barrow's comment. "Bring him up to the fire. He wants warmin'."

Yet, with all the care they were able to bestow, it was a good hour before Jasper Grinder was able to sit up and relate what had occurred to him. He was very hungry, and eagerly disposed of every scrap of food they had to offer him.

"I have been lost in the timber since yesterday," he said. "Oh, it was awful, the wind and the snow, and the intense cold. Sometimes I could not feel my feet, and I knew I was freezing to death. And I hadn't a mouthful to eat!"

"But where are the others?" questioned Dick.

"I don't know—back to that cave, I suppose. We were out looking for some trace of—ahem—of Tom and Sam, when I became separated from the others. Then, in trying to find my way back to the cave, I fell in with a big black bear. The ugly creature came after me, and I ran for my life, through the brushwood and the snow, until I came to a cliff. I fell over this, landed on an icy slope, and rolled and rolled until I struck the river. Then I got up and tried to get back to the cave, but it was out of the question. I found an opening in the cliff, on going back, and remained there until morning, when that bear, or another like him, roused me and caused me another roll down to the river."

"Didn't the bear follow you?" asked Tom.

"He followed as far as the river. But I ran with all my might through the deep snow, and presently he gave up the pursuit. Then I went on and on until I happened to catch a glimpse of your camp-fire, and set up a cry for help. I slipped on a rock and hit my cheek, and the loss of blood and the shock made me dizzy. The next I knew I was here."

"You may be thankful that we found you and brought you in," was the remark made by John Barrow. "If you had remained out there this night, you'd 'a' been a corpse by mornin', sure!"

"I suppose that's true," said Jasper Grinder, with a thoughtful look. His experience had humbled him greatly. He was so exhausted that he soon fell asleep, breathing heavily. The boys and John Barrow gazed at him curiously.

"His being with us presents a problem," said Dick. "What are we to do with him?"

"I'm sure I don't want him along," answered Sam promptly. He had hot forgotten the treatment received at Putnam Hall.

"None of us want him, I take it, Sam. But we can't leave him behind to starve. And I doubt if he can find his way back to the Baxter camp alone."

"No, he can't do that," put in the guide. "It is easy to see he knows nothing of the woods and mountains. He was a fool to come here."

"If we take him along, we ought to make him do his share of the work," said Tom. "But I don't like it. He'll be forever spying on us, and if we find that treasure he'll try to get it away, mark my words."

"The only thing we can do is to watch him, and not let him have any gun or pistol," said Dick. "He won't dare to leave us, unarmed, especially if we tell him of all the wild animals that are around."

The subject was discussed for fully an hour, but no satisfactory conclusion was reached, and presently one after another dropped off to sleep; the guide being the last to lie down, after fixing the camp-fire for the night, so that a share of the warmth might drift into the shelter.

On the following day the sun came up bright and clear. It was still bitterly cold, and they were loath to leave the vicinity of the camp-fire. But John Barrow urged that they make good use of the clear weather, and so they started up the river as soon as they had disposed of their breakfast of fish and birds.

"To be sure I'll go along, if I can walk," was what Jasper Grinder said on being questioned, "I wouldn't remain behind alone for a fortune, and I am sure I can't find the Baxter party now. Please don't cast me off! It wouldn't be human!"

"I believe you'd cast us off, if we were in a similar situation," was Tom's comment. "The way you treated Sam at the Hall shows that you don't care how some folks suffer. But you can go along, for we are not brutes. But you've got to be careful how you behave, or otherwise out you go, to shift for yourself, no matter how cold it is or how many wild animals are around."

"I will do nothing that does not meet with the approval of all of you," answered the former teacher humbly. "And remember, Thomas, I was willing to aid you when you were a prisoner in the cave in the gully."

"You were—for a big consideration," returned Tom dryly. "Let me tell you flatly, I don't take much stock in your so-called generosity."

They were soon on the way, straight down to the river and then up that stream. John Barrow was in the lead, with Sam following. Jasper came next, and Tom and Dick brought up the rear. As far as possible the guide sought out a trail along the timber, where the snow was not so deep. Here and there were bare spots, but at other places were deep drifts, where they frequently got in up to their armpits.

"This is no joke!" gasped Sam, after floundering through an extra deep drift. "I thought I was going out of sight that time."

"I trust we haven't much further to go," was Jasper Grinder's comment. "I would give a hundred dollars to be back at Timber Run."

"It's your own fault you are here," retorted Sam.

"I might say the same of you," returned the former teacher sharply.

By noon John Barrow calculated they had covered half the distance to Bear Pond. A sheltered nook was found between some rocks and trees, and here they set fire to a mass of brushwood, that they might get warm while they rested, and ate the last of the food on hand. There was no wind, and the sun, shining as brightly as ever, made the surface of the snow glitter like diamonds.

"I hope we find our stores at the cache undisturbed," said Dick, while resting. "I am hungry for a change of diet. As soon as we get there I'm going to make some biscuits and boil some beans."

"Gosh, but a plateful of beans would be fine!" cried Tom. "I can tell you what," he added reflectively; "you want to do without things to learn their real value."

On they went once more, this time slower than before, because both Sam and Jasper Grinder showed great signs of weariness. They had to move around a long bend of the stream, and for fear of getting into a deep drift the guide did not dare to make a short cut. They passed the pole set up by John Barrow and Dick at the forks of the stream, and then headed directly for where the cache was located.

"When we get settled we can put up a regular hut," said John Barrow. "Then we can be as comfortable, almost, as at home."

"I'm anxious to locate the treasure," said Tom, "We can—Gracious me! Look there!"

They had come in sight of the cache, and now beheld two great black bears standing over the loose stones, doing their best to scratch them away and get at the party's stores!



CHAPTER XXVII.

BRINGING DOWN TWO BEARS.

"Bears!" burst out Sam, and started back in alarm.

"Bears!" shrieked Jasper Grinder, and turned as pale as death. "Oh, somebody save me!" He wanted to run, but he was in such a tremble he could not, and sank on his knees in the snow in terror.

Crack! It was the report of John Barrow's rifle, and one of the bears was hit full in the left eye. Crack! went the piece Dick carried, and the other bear was hit in the neck. Then Tom fired the shotgun which had been found on Jasper Grinder, and the bear Dick had hit was wounded in the side.

Of course there followed a terrible uproar, and in a twinkle both bears left the pile of rocks and came toward those who had wounded them. The one that had been wounded in the eye was mortally hit, however, and staggered in a heap before he had gone ten paces.

But the second bear was full of fight, and his course was directly for Tom. Before the lad could run the beast was almost on top of him.

"Dodge him!" called out Dick. "Dodge him, Tom!"

"Shoot him, somebody!" yelled back Tom. "Shoot him, quick!"

And then he dodged behind some nearby brush. But the bear was almost as quick, and ran directly into the brushwood, to face him on the opposite side.

By this time John Barrow had the rifle reloaded, and now he skirted the brushwood, followed by Dick. Crack! went the rifle again, just as bruin was about to pounce upon Tom. But the bullet merely clipped the hair on the bear's back, and in a twinkle the beast was on Tom and had the lad down.

With his heart in his throat, Dick made a leap with the shotgun. Bang! went the piece, when he was not over three yards from the bear. The charge entered the beast's ear, and with a snort he rolled over and over in the snow, sending it flying in every direction.

Freed of the bear, Tom lost no time in scrambling to his feet. Soon the struggles of the beast ceased, and they knew he was either dying or dead. To make sure, John Barrow stepped in, hunting knife in hand, and plunged the blade into his throat. Then the other bear was served in the same fashion.

The fight had been of short duration, yet the peril had been extreme, and after it was over poor Tom found he could scarcely stand. Dick led him to a rock and set him down, asking him if he was hurt.

"I got a scratch on the arm, but I reckon it's not much," was the faint answer. "But it was a close call, wasn't it?"

"Those bears must have been awfully hungry, or they wouldn't have put up such a fight," said the guide. "Their being at the cache proves they wanted food."

"Well, we've got the food now," returned Dick grimly. "We'll have all the bear steaks and roasts anybody wants."

"Yes, and I can tell you a juicy steak will just be boss!" put in Sam enthusiastically.

It was seen that Tom was hurt more than he cared to admit, and the others lost no time in building a big camp-fire, that they might warm themselves, while Dick took off his brother's coat, rolled up his shirt-sleeves, and bandaged an ugly scratch with a bit of linen.

"You can help here," said John Barrow to Jasper Grinder. "I'll fix it as your duty to keep the fire a-goin'. There is a hatchet and there is the brushwood. Don't let the fire go down, or I'm afraid there won't be enough heat for cooking your supper." And the guide smiled grimly.

At this indirect threat Jasper Grinder scowled. But he did not dare to complain, and was soon at work cutting brushwood and dragging it to the spot.

"Gosh, but he's not used to hard work," was Sam's whispered comment. "I'll wager he doesn't like that for a cent."

"It's time he was set to work doing something," answered Dick. "It will keep him from getting into mischief."

As late as it was, and although all were tired out from their long walk through the deep snow, they found it necessary to construct some shelter for the night. The guide located a number of cedars growing close together, and this spot was cleaned out and made as comfortable as circumstances permitted. The fire was shoved over to the new location, and then John Barrow cut up one of the bears and procured a big juicy steak for supper. It is needless to say that all enjoyed the treat set before them, even Jasper Grinder eating his full share.

"We'll hang the meat up on a tree," said John Barrow. "If we don't some hungry foxes or other wild animals will surely be after it." And procuring the necessary ropes, he flung them over some limbs and all hauled the carcasses up, Tom, of course, being excused from the task, because of his wounded arm.

The wind had gone down, and when all retired within the shelter not a sound but the merry crackling of the fire broke the stillness around them. In front of the camp was a long stretch of the pond, now thickly covered with snow; in the rear a slope of a mountain, rock-ribbed and covered with cedars and hemlock. To the left was located one of the branches of the river and a hundred yards distant was a second branch.

At first John Barrow had thought to set a guard for the night, but as the spot seemed free from danger for the time being, this was dispensed with, and all went to bed, to sleep soundly until sunrise.

"And now for the treasure hunt!" cried Sam, who was among the first to awaken. "It's just a perfect day, and we ought to accomplish a good deal, if we set to work right after breakfast."

He talked freely, for Jasper Grinder was still asleep—snoring lustily in a corner of the shelter. John Barrow was already outside, boiling coffee, broiling another bear steak, and preparing a pot of beans for cooking. He had likewise set some bread for raising.

"Goin' to give you a breakfast as is a breakfast," said the guide; with a broad smile. "Reckon all of you are ready for it, eh?"

"I am," said Dick. "Phew! but this mountain air does give one a tremendous appetite!"

While Jasper Grinder still slept Dick brought forth the precious map and studied the description, and also the translation of the French text into English, which Randolph Rover had made for them.

"'To find the box of silver and gold, go to where Bear Pond empties into Perch River,'" he read. "Well, we are at this spot, or, at least, at one of the spots. It may mean this branch, and it may mean one of several others."

"We can try one branch after another," put in Sam. "Go on with the description."

"'Ten paces to the west is a large pine tree which was once struck by lightning,'" continued Dick. He looked around. "I don't see any tree like that around here."

"You must remember, my lad, that that writin' was put down years ago," said John Barrow. "More'n likely if the tree was struck an' blasted, it's fallen long ago, and the spring freshets carried it down the river."

"That's true," said Sam, with a falling look. "But, anyway, we ought to be able to locate the stump."

"Yes, we ought to be able to do that."

"I'm going to locate it now," cried Sam, and stalked off to where the pond emptied into the stream. From this spot he stalked ten paces westward, and of a sudden disappeared from view.

"Help!" he cried.

"Hullo, Sam's disappeared!" cried Dick, and ran toward the spot.

"Look out!" sang out John Barrow. "There may be a nasty hole there!"

Nevertheless, he too went forward, and they soon beheld Sam floundering in snow up to his neck. He had stepped into a hollow between the rocks, and it took him some time to extricate himself from the unpleasant position.

"Oh, my, what a bath!" he exclaimed ruefully, as he tried to get the snow from out of his collar and his coat-sleeves. "I—I didn't think of a pitfall like that!"

"You want to be careful how you journey around here," cautioned John Barrow. "If that hollow had been twice as deep the snow might have smothered you to death."

"I will be careful," answered Sam. "I don't want any more snow down my back and up my coat-sleeves," and he hurried back to the camp-fire to warm himself.

By this time Tom was outside, and he was followed by Jasper Grinder, and presently all sat down close to the blaze to enjoy the generous breakfast the guide had provided. Tom said that his arm was a little stiff, but that otherwise he felt as well as ever.



CHAPTER XXVIII.

TWO FAILURES.

What to do with Jasper Grinder was a problem which none of the boys knew how to solve. They were exceedingly sorry that he was among them, but as it would be impossible to send him off alone in that deep snow, they felt that they would have to make the best of the situation.

"I move we make him stay around the camp," suggested Tom. "He can watch our stores, keep the fire furnished with wood, and do some of the cooking."

"He may kick at playing servant girl," said Sam.

"If he kicks, let him clear out."

"I think Tom is right," put in Dick. "We don't want him along while we are trying to locate the treasure."

"He may slip away with our things—if he finds any trace of Baxter's party," went on Sam. "And we can't afford to lose anything more. One sled-load is enough. We'll be wanting some of those other things before long."

"I don't believe that other party is around here," said John Barrow. "We had better leave the man at the fire. We can keep our eyes open for the enemy—as you call 'em."

So it was arranged, and Dick told the former teacher. Jasper Grinder said but little in return, but asked about the possibility of any more wild beasts turning up.

"I don't want to be left alone to face another couple of bears," he said. "They would do their best to chew me up!"

"We will leave a gun in camp," said Dick. "If you see a bear coming, you can climb a tree and keep him off with the gun. If we hear a shot, we'll come back just as quickly as we can. But, Grinder, I want you to understand that you aren't to play us false," went on the eldest Rover. "If you do we'll have no mercy on you, remember that!"

Half an hour later the boys and their guide set off on their first hunt for the treasure. With great care John Barrow led the way over the rocks and other rough places. He carried a long pole, which he plunged in the snow before him whenever he was afraid there was a hollow ahead. Soon they gained the spot where Dick thought the blasted tree might be located.

The snow was scraped away, first in one direction and then another, until a spot several yards in diameter was cleared. No tree-stump was brought to light, although they found a slight hollow in which were several big roots.

"This might have been the tree once," said John Barrow meditatively. "Years make great changes, you know. The trees fall, rocks and dirt slide down hill, and that makes a big difference in the looks o' things."

"All we can do is to follow the directions on the map," said Dick. "I think we'll be bound to strike the right clew, sooner or later. Let us follow this one and see where it leads to."

"What's the next directions?" questioned Tom.

"'Go due southwest from the pine tree sixty-two paces,'" answered Dick, reading from the translation given him. "Which is southwest, Mr. Barrow?"

"Soon tell ye that," answered the guide, and brought forth his pocket compass. "That way." And he pointed with his arm.

With the compass to guide them they set off, the guide in the lead once more, and Dick counting off the sixty-two paces with great care. The way was up a hillside and over half a dozen rough rocks, and then into a hollow where the snow was up to their waists.

"No use of talking, this is treasure-hunting under difficulties," was Sam's comment. "Perhaps we would have done better had we left the hunt till summer time."

"And let Baxter get ahead of us?" put in Tom. "Not much!" He turned to Dick. "What's the next directions on the paper?"

"There ought to be a flat rock here, backed up by a sharp-pointed one," answered the eldest Rover. "I don't see anything of a sharp-pointed rock, do you? The flat rock may be under us."

"No sharp-pointed rock within a hundred feet of here," answered Sam, gazing around. He began scraping away the snow. "Dirt under us, too."

"That settles it, then. Trial No. 1 is a failure. Mr. Barrow, we'll have to try the next stream."

"So it would seem, Dick. Well, you boys mustn't expect too easy work o' it. A big treasure aint picked up every day."

"The trouble of it is, we don't know how much of a treasure it is," said Tom. "For all we know, it may be but a few hundred dollars—not enough to pay us, really, for our trouble."

"Well, even a few hundred dollars aint to be sneezed at."

"We did much better out West, when we located our mining claim," said Dick. "But then we came up here for fun as much as for treasure."

The tramp to where the next stream leading from Bear Pond was located was by no means easy. They had to crawl around a tangled mass of brushwood and over more rough rocks, until they gained the bosom of the pond itself. Then they skirted the shore for several hundred yards.

"Hold on!" cried Dick suddenly. "Rabbits!" And up came his gun, and he blazed away. Sam also fired, and between them they brought down four rabbits, which had just run out of a hollow log a short distance ahead.

"Good shots!" cried the guide enthusiastically. "Couldn't have been better. I see you are used to hunting. Many a city chap would have missed 'em entirely. I had one feller up here year before last wanted to bring down big game, but when he saw a deer he got the shakes and didn't think of shootin' till the game was out o' sight."

The four rabbits were plump and heavy, and the boys shouldered them with much satisfaction. Then the onward course was resumed, until Dick again called a halt.

"Here is where we'll make trial No. 2," he said. "Now see if any of you can locate the blasted tree in this neighborhood."

All began to search around in various directions, and presently Sam let out a call.

"Here's a fallen tree!"

"Struck by lightning?" queried Dick.

"I don't know about that. Perhaps Mr. Barrow can tell us."

The others walked over, and the guide cleared the snow from the upper end of the fallen timber.

"Not much signs of being struck by anything but the wind," he announced. "Still, I aint sure."

"We'll try from this point, anyway," said Tom. "No use of missing any chance, however small." And on this the others agreed.

Once again they began to pace off the ground as before. Here the task was as difficult as ever, as they had to pass through some timber thickly intergrown with brush.

"I suppose in Goupert's time this timber was small," observed the guide.

The tramping around was beginning to tire them, and soon Sam had to stop to rest and get back his wind.

"I feel like a regular snow-plow," he gasped. "Tell you what, it takes the wind right out of a chap."

"You rest while we go ahead," suggested Tom, but Sam did not wish to do this.

"Not much! If the treasure is going to be found, I want to be on deck!" he cried.

Presently they we're at it again, Dick pacing off the steps as carefully as ever. They had still fifteen paces to go when John Barrow came to a stop with a sniff of disgust.

"Wrong ag'in!"

"How so?"

"This is leadin' us right out on the pond."

"I declare, so it is!" murmured Dick. "We started due southwest, didn't we?"

"To a hair, lad. To tell the truth, I didn't take much to this trail from the start. To my mind this stream is a new one. I think the next outlet is one of the old-timers."

Once more they held a consultation, and Tom asked how far it was to the next stream.

"Right over yonder rise o' ground," answered the guide. "But hadn't you better wait till after dinner before ye tackle it?"

Dick consulted his watch.

"I declare! Quarter to twelve!" he exclaimed. "No wonder I'm feeling hungry."

"I was getting hungry myself," said Tom "But I wasn't going to be the first to stop. What shall we do—go back to camp?"

"Yes," said Dick. "I don't like the idea of leaving Jasper Grinder there all day alone."

"Nor I," came from the other Rovers.

John Barrow was asked to lead them back by the shortest route, and they started quarter of an hour later, after all had had a chance to rest and get back their wind.

"I hope we get a chance at some deer while we are up here," remarked Dick, as they turned back.

"I'll take you to where there are deer, after this hunt is over," replied John Barrow. "I know a famous spot, and it's not far, either."

"Hark!" suddenly cried Tom. "What sort of a yelping is that?"

All listened.

"Wolves!" answered John Barrow. "There must be quite a pack of 'em, too."

"I suppose they get pretty hungry when there is such a deep snow," said Tom.

"They do. More'n likely some of 'em have scented our b'ar meat and they want some."

"If they are heading for camp, they'll give Jasper Grinder trouble," put in Sam.

He had scarcely spoken when they heard the report of a gun, followed by a louder yelping than ever.

"They've attacked him, true enough!" cried John Barrow.

"Come on," said Dick. "The sooner we get back the better. Grinder may be having a pile of trouble, and the wolves may tear all our things to pieces if they get the chance."



CHAPTER XXIX.

JASPER GRINDER AND THE WOLVES.

Left to himself, Jasper Grinder piled the wood on the camp-fire and then sat down to meditate on the turn affairs had taken.

He was in a thoroughly sour frame of mind. To his way of thinking everything had gone wrong, and he wondered how matters would terminate.

"I was a fool to come out here, in the first place," he told himself. "I ought to have known that Baxter had no sure thing of it. If I hadn't fallen in with the Rovers, I would have frozen and starved to death. And they don't want me; that's plainly to be seen."

Had he felt able to do so, he would have packed a knapsack with provisions and started oh his way down the river toward Timber Run. But he did not know how far the settlement was away, and he was afraid to trust himself alone in such a wilderness as confronted him on every hand. He did not possess much money, but he would have given every dollar to be safe back in the city again.

He wondered if the Rovers would gain possession of the treasure before the Baxter party came up, and also wondered what would happen should the two parties come together. He had not been treated very well by Dan Baxter, and so he hardly cared who came out on top in the struggle for the treasure.

"Whoever gets it will try to count me out," was the way he reasoned. "I'm at the bottom of the heap, and likely to stay there for some time to come."

The time dragged slowly, and to occupy himself he began to cut more wood for the fire. The task made him grit his teeth.

"Got to work like a common woodchopper," he muttered. "It's a shame!"

He was just dragging the last of the wood up to the fire when a sudden yelping broke upon his ears. Looking up, he saw a lone wolf standing at the edge of the timber, gazing fixedly at him.

"A wolf!" he muttered, and his face grew pale. "Scat!" And he waved his hand threateningly.

The wolf disappeared behind some brush, but did not go far. Sitting down, it let out the most dismal howls imaginable, which soon brought a dozen or more other wolves to the scene. Then all of the pack came into view, much to Jasper Grinder's horror.

"They want to eat me up!" he groaned, and ran for the nearest tree, which was close to the shelter. "Oh, I must get away, somehow!"

He clutched at the tree and began to climb with all possible-speed. His gun lay close at hand, but in his haste he forgot to pick it up. Once in the tree he sat down on a limb, a perfect picture of misery.

Seeing the man retreat the wolves at once became bolder, and keeping a safe distance from the fire, they drew up in a circle around the tree upon which Jasper Grinder rested, and from which hung the bear meat. At one point under the tree there was a spot covered with bear's blood, and this blood several of the wolves licked up in a manner to make the former teacher's own blood run cold.

"If they get at me they'll chew me up, I know they will," he moaned. "Oh, why did I ever come out in this savage waste!"

Sitting in a circle, the wolves lifted their heads and howled dismally. Two came to the tree and scratched the bark, as if to attempt climbing.

"Go away! Go away!" shrieked Jasper Grinder. "Scat! Go away!"

The wolves left the tree-trunk, but did not go away. Instead one after another began to leap up, trying to reach the meat which hung so temptingly above them. One or two prowled among the stores, tearing this and that, and picking up the scraps of the morning meal.

In this fashion half an hour went by, and it is safe to state that this was the longest and most trying half hour that Jasper Grinder experienced in his whole life. He shouted at the wolves and threw bits of sticks at them, but to this they paid no attention. Then he cried for help, but the Rovers and John Barrow were too far off to hear him.

"If I only had the gun, I could fire it as a signal," he said to himself. "Why did I not bring it up with me?"

He wondered if he could pull the gun up by means of a string he found in his pocket, and resolved to try. Making a loop in one end of the string he lowered it with care, until it rested close to the gun, and then he did his best to slide the string along under the barrel. This was comparatively easy, for the barrel was tilted up against a rock.

The wolves watched the maneuvering with interest, and no sooner did the gun begin to shift than three leaped forward, snarling angrily. One snapped at the barrel of the piece, one at the butt, and a third at the trigger. An instant later came the report heard by the Rovers and John Barrow.

The shot was almost a deadly one, not alone for two of the wolves, but also for Jasper Grinder, who was not expecting the gun to go off. The piece was loaded with buckshot, which tore through the sides of two of the beasts, and then passed upward into the tree-branches, taking the former school-teacher in the left shoulder.

"I'm shot!" gasped Jasper Grinder, and almost fell from his perch. But he managed to save himself, and hung in a crotch, weak and almost helpless, the blood flowing freely and dripping to the ground, where the wolves licked it up eagerly. A few had retreated at the report of the gun, but now all came back, snarling and yelping more wildly than ever.

It must be confessed that Jasper Grinder's position was truly unfortunate. The loss of blood was fast rendering him unconscious, and he was in mortal terror of dropping down and being devoured.

"Help!" he called feebly. "Help! For the love of Heaven, help me!"

Just as his senses were leaving him he heard a distant cry, and looking in that direction, saw John Barrow and Dick approaching, followed by Tom and Sam.

"The wolves have Grinder treed," cried the guide. "I'll give 'em something to remember us by!"

He had a double-barreled shotgun, and he let drive twice in quick succession, firing into two groups of the beasts, and killing two and wounding several others. Then Dick fired, bringing down another. Tom and Sam also discharged their pieces, and added three others to the dead or dying.

This slaughter was too much for the remaining wolves, hungry as they were, and in a twinkle they ran off into the timber, howling dismally.

"They won't come back," was John Barrow's comment. "They have learned to respect us." And he was right, the wolves bothered them no more.

While the guide was busy finishing the beast which had been too much hurt to retreat, the boys turned their attention to Jasper Grinder. They saw he had fainted, and noticed the blood dripping from his shoulder. His body was slowly leaving the tree crotch where it had rested.

"He's coming! Catch him!" cried Sam, and as the unconscious man came down they did what they could to break his fall. Fortunately he landed in the deep snow, so the fall proved of small consequence.

"He's shot, that's what's the matter with him," said Dick, after an examination. "Who fired at him? I'm certain none of us did."

The question could not be answered. Bringing out a blanket, they placed Jasper Grinder upon it, close to the fire, and John Barrow made an examination of the wound, picking out a couple of the loose buckshot.

"He was probably shot from his own gun," said the guide. "More than likely he dropped the piece from the tree, and it went off when it struck the ground."

They bound up the wound carefully, and did all they could for the sufferer. Then, while Dick watched over Jasper Grinder, the others got rid of the wolves' carcasses by dragging them into the timber, and then set to work to prepare the midday meal.

It was fully an hour before Jasper Grinder was able to speak, and then he could say but little. But he explained how it was that he had been shot. He wanted to know if the wolves had been driven off, and begged that they would not leave him alone again.

"We'll stay by you, now you are down," said Dick sympathetically. "We are not brutes, even though we haven't any great love for you."

"Thank you; I'll not forget your kindness," returned Jasper Grinder, and for once it must be admitted that he meant what he said.

The wounded man could eat no solid food, so they prepared for him some broth made from bear's meat, which was very strengthening. After another examination John Barrow was of the opinion that the wound was not a dangerous one, but that the man would have to keep quiet for several days or a week.

"We'll have to take turns at watching him," said Dick. "It's too bad, but I see no other way out of it."

They drew lots, and it fell to Sam to remain with the patient during the afternoon. An hour later Dick, Tom, and the guide set off to look once more for the treasure.

"Well, I'm tired enough to stay here and rest," said Sam. "That walking this morning played me out completely."

There was not much to do, since Jasper Grinder had brought in sufficient wood to last for a day or two. For an hour Sam rested and watched the former teacher, who had fallen into a doze. Then the youngest Rover set to work to improve the shelter, doing several things which the guide had suggested.

The youth was hard at work patching up one side of the improvised hut when he heard a movement in the brushwood not far away. Fearing some wild animal he ran for his gun, but ere he could reach the firearm a voice arrested him.